Cendol in Simpang Renggam

Within the row of shophouses beside Simpang Renggam main street, there is a Cendol stall popular with local residents —— Gerai Cendol Sathar. Under the blue canopy, stall owner Ahmad bin Sathar is busy making bowls of snowy fine shaved ice with the ice-shaving machine, topped with fresh green Cendol, brownish Gula Melaka sauce and rich Santan sauce. Among the colourful condiments are maroon candied red beans, pink Sago, golden corn in evaporated milk, as well as the option to add on glutinous rice according to personal preference. All ingredients are made in-house, prepared fresh daily, widely praised by customers and attracts people from near and far.

Sathar Cendol stall operates in the same spot since its establishment, never since relocated. The stall is set up between two shophouses, coincidentally an alley lies behind, therefore simple tables and chairs are placed in the vicinity for customers to be seated while waiting, as well as enjoying the exquisite sweet Cendol. Local residents and neighbouring shop owners achieve a tacit understanding not to drive or park their cars into the alley. A special sentiment flows through this alley, the rustic shaved ice containing fond memories of local residents who enjoy the delicacy since young.

Cendol is a type of jelly made from a mixture of extracted Pandan leaf juice and rice flour, naturally green in colour, originating from Java, Indonesia in the form of a beverage. Cendol has a mellow Pandan taste and a smooth texture, combined with shaved ice, Gula Melaka sauce and Santan sauce for a fresh and cool mouthfeel. In Malaysia’s perpetual summer, it is nice to be able to enjoy a bowl of icy Cendol anytime. Not only is Cendol popular throughout Malaysia, there are also a variety of condiments and eating methods, such as adding in peanuts, cashew nuts, attap fruit, jackfruit, ice-cream, or even durian.

Under the blazing sun, the heavily perspirating Ahmad bin Sathar is currently the fourth generation successor of this family business with over 60 years of history. Ahmad’s great-grandfather migrated to Penang from India during the olden days to seek employment, and learnt the trade from a Javanese. Back then he carried the equipment and condiments on a shoulder pole, selling door-to-door in the villages of Penang to Prai. Afterwards, Ahmad’s grandfather succeeded this trade and went selling Cendol in Teluk Intan, Perak. As he passed away, the third generation successor Sathar, who is Ahmad’s father, shifted southwards to settle down at Simpang Renggam in 1956, establishing his stall with the family trade by selling Cendol on a tricycle.

To make a living in a foreign place is not easy, however generations of Sathar’s family survived and provided for their family with the craft of making Cendol. Sathar perseveres in his only familiar skill, refusing to be underestimated due to being self-employed. Apart from raising ten children, he even managed to open his own Mamak store (Restoran Usaha Berkat). Reminiscing being questioned by government authorities whether he could afford the monthly loan repayment of RM2500, Sathar merely smiled, notwithstanding his bitter struggles where nobody bears witness to. As Sathar’s sons (Ahmad and his brother) succeeded his business, they retained the original stall name out of respect to their father.

The essence of grass-root spirit is tenacity and independence, like a blade of grass, rooted firmly and standing tall even though weather-beaten. Just like Sathar’s family, undeterred by difficulties, working hard to make a living by selling bowls of delicious Cendol.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Amelia Lim
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Twinkle In The Night

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Datuk Gong in Simpang Renggam

During desolate years, Chinese forefathers sailed over and settled down in Malaysia, shedding blood and sweat in cultivating their own success, safety and wellness are of immediate concern to them while working abroad. Be it in rural countrysides or on streets and alleys, business districts, residential areas, or industrial sites, a small red shrine could be observed outdoors, the flowing incense smoke an offering to the guardian god of common folk —— Datuk Gong.

In the dense Chinese cultural history, there is a deeply-rooted belief in regional Land Gods. Upon settling in Malaysian lands, co-existing with compatriots from other races, praying together to be safe and sound, hence fusing the perception of regional Land God with pre-Islamic Malay Datuk Keramat spirit belief, resulting in a local God well-known across the country. The common representation of Datuk Gong is an elderly person wearing traditional Malay clothing, otherwise having numerous natural presence such as massive termite nests, towering ancient trees, or sacred stones. Datuk Gong accepts offerings from all races but not consuming pork, usually contributions are made according to Datuk Gong’s preference, including curry, turmeric rice, cigar etc.

Peninsula Plantation located in Simpang Renggam, formerly known as South Malaya Pineapple Plantation, is the largest pineapple plantation in Malaysia. The plantation was developed in 1954 on a large scale, covering an area of over 6,000 acres, with up to 400,000 pineapple trees planted. Back then there were hundreds of staff working in the plantation, including both local residents and labourers from neighbouring areas, made up of the three major races. This Datuk Gong shrine is located inside the plantation, its original site was a pile of stones near its current site, no matter supervisors, lorry drivers, or staff who plant and harvest pineapples, all of them will pay their respects on the way to and off work.

During the earlier days, there was no mosque near Peninsula Plantation, therefore it did not seem odd that compatriots from other races also prayed to Datuk Gong. In 1965, after the durian trees planted beside the rocks were struck by lightning, staff from the three major races joined efforts to build a temple as a place of shelter for Datuk Gong, which is today’s Ling Sian temple. The plaque recording donations made fades gradually, however the ink is still legible, a witness to the multicultural Malaysian community living together in harmony.

On 18th November, the annual celebration of Datuk Gong’s birthday, the plantation staff will worship with curry rice prepared by Malays. Back then it was extremely busy during the festive celebration, besides Chinese opera shows, there are also wayang kulit and movie showcases to cater for compatriots from other races, both held together at the empty space in front of the temple. People of three major races gather for the auspicious event, enjoying in harmony. Now it is different, Malays strictly adhere to Islamic practices, whereas Datuk Gong is continually worshipped by the local Chinese devotees, who set up a committee. Apart from upholding the reverence of Ling Sian Temple, they also organize a series of activities such as the annual Datuk Gong birthday celebration, donation to the needy and eldery, as well as Chinese New Year Spring Lantern Festival Dinner.

The Datuk Gong inside the plantation of Simpang Renggam pours out blessings to the locals in their work and lives, becoming their belief and spiritual sustenance. From a small shrine to the construction of Ling Sian Temple, step by step, the historical imprints show that the worshipping of Datuk Gong is not considered as religious, but a sense of respect for Mother Nature and the land we live on. Only by maintaining a heart filled with awe, there will be a smooth and safe life journey.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Michael Lerk
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Dyathon – With You from YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Liong Yu Barber Shop

Along with the snipping sounds of scissors, cascades of hair fall onto the ground, the barber deftly maneuvers a pair of small scissors, cleanly clipping from beside the ears, in front of the forehead, and the back of the head. In a row of half-century old shops situated near Simpang Renggam Wet Market, spot Kedai Gunting Liong Yu with clear glass panes on its wooden walls and door. The interior of the shop is simple and inelaborate, consisting of two barber chairs which are over 50 years old and all sorts of barber tools, among these a wooden plank used for elevating children on the seat, unchanged since the opening of the shop. However the traditional manual hand cutting method using scissors is replaced by electrical shears.

Traditional barber shops are commonly found in small towns, with an economical modest price, offering honest service ranging from half an hour to one whole hour. It is entirely different from 15-minute speed haircut shops found in shopping malls which offer convenient and fast service for city folk leading a hectic lifestyle. In recent years, branded hair salon chains blossomed, with ornate interior furnishing and advanced equipment, hair stylists on duty all graduated from vocational colleges. Besides hair wash, cut and blow dry, they also offer services such as dyeing, perm, hairstyle design, and even hair treatment and nail decoration, at a startling exorbitant price. In comparison, customers of traditional barber shops enjoy a more substantial service, not only obtaining a neat and clean hairstyle, there are also additional options such as facial hair removing, beard trimming, as well as earwax removal, an exceptional service rarely seen in barber shops.

83-year-old Master Yu Yee Kong still has eyes like a hawk, carefully performing earwax removal by the dim lighting of a yellow light bulb, with antiseptic liquid and a set of tools made of silver consisting of an ear pick, extraction forceps, and ear rake. In the case of accidental injuries, silver tools would not cause infection. Mr Yu has been performing haircuts on up to four generations of local residents, he is especially eloquent when talking about the barbering industry and the treasurable tools used. Among his regular customers, there are some whose father brought them for a haircut since childhood, till now they work overseas and still visit his barber shop whenever back in their hometown. At present, the main customers of Mr Yu are local Malays and Chinese, mostly of the older generation, just a handful of children.

Reminiscing his life as an apprentice at Singapore in his teenage years, Mr Yu endured financial hardships with his constant persistence, working hard throughout his 18-month apprenticeship. In the earlier days where there was a lack of job openings, by picking up a skill Mr Yu mastered a trade which enabled him to work independently and support himself financially. Back then barbering was one of those rare jobs which does not require hard labour, no exposure to extreme weather conditions, able to generate a stable income and address essential needs. Often moving around since he started working, Mr Yu came across an opportunity to establish his own shop in his hometown. The original price list during setting up shop in 1968, a piece of calligraphy by Mr Yu’s friend, is well kept until the present, memorabilia of his challenging journey of being a barber, as well as a witness to the changes in the barbering industry.

With the passage of time, humane touch and warm memories fill the old shop front. From the ever-competitive past of traditional barber shops, to the decline in market demand causing barbers to relocate or switch careers, till now barbers within the same generation as Mr Yu eventually retire or pass away. Although the operating days are getting shorter, the relationship with customers become longer.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Evon Pang
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Ivory Dreams from SerenityStudio

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Lady Worker in Pineapple Plantation

At 6A.M. before dawn, Aunty Liew Chiew Moy is well prepared, carefully riding her motorcycle from her house towards the pineapple plantation in Simpang Renggam. Rows of pineapple trees forming a vast, boundless sea of pineapples welcome her. Aunty Liew proceeded slowly but steadily on the yellow mud road until the center of the plantation, gathering with her colleagues. Before starting the day’s work, they prepare their tools and protective equipment, for instance sharpening knives, wearing gloves and sunhat, get ready before starting to harvest pineapples. Not only is Aunty Liew the most senior worker in the plantation, she is also the only remaining Chinese lady worker.

Simpang Renggam is located in the mid section of Johor, close to the North-South Expressway, where the largest pineapple plantation in Malaysia is. The soil in the region is peat, formed from decomposed organic mass, having the advantages of being loose and good air circulation. Moreover, plentiful rainfall makes it an ideal place for planting pineapples. Pineapple plantation industry in Simpang Renggam started from the 50’s, achieving its peak in the 60’s to 70’s, becoming the main economic activity of the local population. Among them, Peninsula Plantation Sdn Bhd where Aunty Liew is attached, is the largest plantation in the vicinity, its surface area over 6,000 acres, with up to 400,000 pineapple trees.

Since a teenager, Aunty Liew has been working with pineapples for over half a century. Under the influence of her parents, she started working at 15 years old, having experience in grass-cutting, sowing pineapple seedlings, until focusing on harvesting pineapples as of now. At the age of 68 years old, she is still as fit as a fiddle, carrying a 50 kilograms basket on her back without any problem. Aunty Liew gets along well with her colleagues, always greeting each other warmly and showing concern for each other’s well being. They work diligently together as a team for three to four hours a day. Back then during peak seasons, they sometimes work for 8 to 9 hours per day. Even though the weather is extremely hot, they could still be seen harvesting pineapples from the low pineapple trees.

Pineapples grow in different positions on the tree, therefore the job of harvesting is difficult to replace by machinery, having to rely on traditional manpower. Aunty Liew grabs hold of the golden yellow fruit, with a swing of the knife, the fruit is separated from its stem, she then throws the harvested pineapple into the rattan basket on her back, developing deft “back air shot” skills over the years. Although the job itself is not difficult, there are several risks, including stumbling upon low leaves, which may have to be pared off on the way into the plantation to ensure a smooth journey. In the earlier days the plantation is adjacent to forests, bumping into pythons and wild hogs from time to time is a scary experience. Aunty Liew still trembles when reminiscing that she once accidentally cut a beehive, luckily her colleagues alerted each other to run for their lives, no harm was done.

Aunty Liew has been through the rise and fall of the pineapple plantation industry, witnessing on her own the plantation staff changed from a majority of Chinese to now mostly Malays and foreign labourers. As her friends eventually retired, she became the last Chinese lady worker in the plantation. Defending her duty for the most of her life, yet still passionate about her job, Aunty Liew’s dedication is much admirable.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Amelia Lim
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Dancing Star

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

The old streets of Chuah

On the main road which connects Bukit Pelanduk to Tanah Merah Site C, cars and motorcycles go to and fro, the road which is about 15 kilometres in length joined several surrounding Chinese villages, and linking many Malay villages as well as an Indian village, being the traffic lifeline of residents in the vicinity, and the main transportation route for stockbreeding, farms and plantations nearby, especially this area used to be the largest swine farm in the country: Chuah.

Chuah belongs to Jimah town of Port Dickson, Negeri Sembilan, consisting of several Chinese villages which used to be major swine farms: Bukit Pelanduk, Sungai Nipah, Chuah, Tanah Merah Site A and Site C. At the peak of swine farming, there were up to millions of pigs, as well as numerous big and small swine huts and feed mills. When swine farming was flourishing, there was good market demand and great prices, the villagers led a comfortable life. However, a merciless disaster 20 years ago rewrote everything. What remained of the town which used to be busy are two rows of 70-year-old wooden shophouses, no more crowds, only a handful of shops and few customers. The brilliant past of the Chuah region may have faded, however it is unable to shield the vitality of forefathers who worked hard to make a living.

Among them is former school principal Mr See Chung Hee (transliteration), who is 91 years old. In 1949, Mr See (transliteration) sailed southwards to Malaysia from Fú Zhōu, landing in Sungai Pelek, and settled with his family in Bukit Pelanduk. The admirable Mr See (transliteration) has served as vice principal at both SJK (C) Yik Chiao (15 years) and SJK (C) Port Dickson (5 years), working as an educator for over 26 years. In the earlier days, the poor soil condition of Chuah region was unsuitable for farming, only drought tolerant cassava and sweet potatoes could be planted. The diligent FúZhōunese and locals utilise all the resources they could find, using mangrove tree branches and attap leaves to build simple swine huts, and feeding the pigs with cassava leaves leftover from the harvest, raising pigs as an additional source of income.

Stockbreeding has a high industrial output value, as well as extending to other industry chains, therefore swine farming in Chuah region grows rapidly, swine huts and feed mills spring up all over the place, each household raises pigs, from a minimum of dozens up to thousands. Back then, breeders lacked hygiene awareness and proper sewage systems, causing the air in the region to be polluted with livestock excrement and feed, as well as the environmental problem of severe river pollution. At the same time, swine farming promoted economic activity in the region of Chuah, the shops and tea rooms are crowded, the town is full of bustle. Swine farmers would settle their affairs in the morning, gathering for chit-chat in the tea rooms at noon, with luxurious cars parked outside the shops, people have ample life essentials, living comfortably.

Circumstances change as times pass, the remaining wooden buildings on the old streets of Chuah overseen three generations, bearing witness to dramatic changes.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Michael Lerk
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : The Leaves Fall from Felt Music

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Fú Zhōu Red Rice Wine with Vinasse

In the kitchen at the rear end of the house, the floors are lined with newspapers, the pestle and mortar making crisp sounds while pounding. Grandmother Yap Ah Hwa (transliteration) woke up before dawn, busying herself with preparing ingredients to make red rice wine, from her energetic and smooth workflow it’s hard to discover that she is already 72 years old. This is the red rice wine which every single FúZhōunese household brew on their own, an indispensable ingredient in preparing Fú Zhōu dishes, its unique mellowness a key factor in complementing aroma and taste, coating food with a rosy tint, and also symbolizing good luck during festivals. The familiar native taste did not fade away with migration, instead it increased unity, as well as spreading the intense love for red rice wine to community members from other nativities.

Fú Zhōu red rice wine is a type of Chinese rice wine, made up of three simple ingredients: wine yeast cake, cooked glutinous rice, and specialty red yeast rice produced in the Mǐn region in China. The ingredients are mixed together and inserted into an urn, storing in a cool shaded place for the lengthy brewing process. At the end of the fermentation cycle, the liquid extracted from filtration is red rice wine, and the final residue is called vinasse. Red yeast rice is a type of fermented rice which acquires its colour from being cultivated with the mold Monascus purpureus, with health and nutritional benefits in traditional Chinese medicine of promoting digestion and improving blood circulation.

FúZhōunese make up the majority of the population in Chuah, Negeri Sembilan, where every household withholds the custom of brewing red rice wine by themselves, however the recipes and methods used may differ. Some families will insert the ingredients layer by layer; some add in water; some will add red yeast into rice wine and mix evenly; the length of fermentation also ranges, and the resulting taste varies. Grandma Yap (transliteration) who lives in Kampung Baru Sungai Nipah is particular in the ingredients she uses in brewing red rice wine, ensuring good quality and rich taste, which her family and friends enjoy. Initially, the red yeast rice and wine yeast cake are sun dried and finely pounded in advance, the urn being repeatedly washed and thoroughly dried. When brewing red rice wine, the glutinous rice is cooked and let cool overnight. The next day, all ingredients are mixed evenly, poured into a canvas bag, and tied up tightly. Then the urn is sealed and kept in a cool dry place to ferment for at least 75 days.

When she was young, Grandma Yap (transliteration) learned by asking relatives and friends for advice and doing research, experimenting on her own, never once slacking during the preparation and brewing procedures, therefore her brewing method is extraordinarily successful with a high yield. After fermenting for two months and a half, she could reap ten bottles of red wine, compressing the vinasse till it dries up, without wasting even one drop of red wine, and finally keeps the vinasse. Luck is crucial in brewing red rice wine, depending on favourable conditions for a smooth and successful brew. Some people who are having bad luck will be unsuccessful in brewing, or the yield is low and tastes bad. Other precautions and instructions include: from preparing ingredients, to sun drying the urn to expel residing flavours; some are beware of people who attended funerals, pregnant women, women in their confinement, or menstruating women from approaching the red rice wine they brew.

Embarking on a tipsy culinary journey, experiencing an intoxicating lesson in cultural customs. Over the decades, Grandma Yap’s red rice wine became a familiar and unforgettable fondness of her family, an essence of blended native cultures. Treating family and friends to red rice wine during festive celebrations, using vinasse to cook a table full of reddish Fú Zhōu dishes such as red wine chicken and mee sua, red vinasse pork etc. Acquiring the skills of brewing red rice wine could bring about the continuity of Fú Zhōu dishes over several generations.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Amelia Lim
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : White River

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Fú Zhōu Lard Cakes

The nutty aroma of peanuts, paired with the rich aroma of lard, and a thick mouthfeel, the almost extinct lard cake was a must-have specialty dessert in Fú Zhōu banquets. Within 15 minutes by car from Bukit Pelanduk, at the rear of a sky blue wooden cottage in the village of Tanah Merah Site C, Mr Chong Teck Fong (transliteration) could be sighted busying himself in the kitchen, attentively crafting traditional lard cake. Lard cake, also known as Manchuria cake, is a Fú Zhōu treat made from a mixture of lard, peanuts, sugar, and flour. It is also commonly found in Sitiawan, Perak and Sibu, Sarawak, however the preparation methods and mouthfeel may differ.

In the mid-18th century, the Manchuria Eight Banners army were garrisoned at Fú Zhōu, leaving a plethora of snacks and treats, among them is lard cake, which was rumoured to be a royal dessert. Migrating from Yún Nán, China to Malaysia, Mr Chong’s father mastered the skills of making lard cake in his hometown, even though he set up a swine farm in Malaysia, he continues the craft in supplying banquets, gaining fame due to the familiar native birthplace taste.

The process of making lard cake is complicated and time-consuming, stressing on the quality of ingredients as well as the skills of the chef, requiring at least two days to complete. The ingredients include lard, flour, sugar, peanuts, sesame, and egg, slowly mixed together, poured into a wooden mould, and then steamed. Nowadays, the production of lard cake found in other regions rely on machinery, even substituting lard with vegetable oils, resulting in a shriveled oily cake. Reluctant to affect the mouthfeel and quality of lard cake due to the crude production process, Mr Chong persists in genuine handcrafting, without involving machinery.

First of all, lard is scraped off the pork flesh, cut into small cubes, stir fry and season, mix evenly, add in flour, rub into a paste, then add in sugar to maintain a thick mouthfeel. Peanut is the most laborious ingredient involved, requiring selection of suitably sized peanuts, ensuring the peanuts are evenly heated during stir frying, then pick out peanuts with the same cookedness and colour to crush. These procedures take a lot of patience to be completed smoothly.

The advice of Mr Chong’s late father on how to make lard cake still rings in his ears, especially how to determine the suitable cube size when cutting the lard. As Mr Chong starts to learn making lard cakes in his middle-aged years, dispersed together with the lard cake aroma wafts are strands of discreet yet earnest love from his father, hugging him in an embrace. Time flies without leaving any trace, reminiscence and missing the family becomes more apparent. On the annual mark of his father’s death day, Mr Chong always makes lard cake as a tribute to his late father.

The wooden moulds made by Mr Chong himself have removable corners to ease taking out the end product of lard cakes; underneath the wooden pane are small holes to eliminate excess fat so that the mouthfeel would not be too oily. The length of steaming duration depends on the volume, as well as affecting the oiliness, where extending the duration may eliminate more excess fat, however steaming for too long will cause dryness to the lard cake. As the piping hot lard cake is removed from the steaming pot, it needs to be cooled down to set before cutting into inch-size cubes, so that it won’t stick to the knife.

The 60-year-old Mr Chong is the only person in his family to master the skill of making lard cakes, besides worrying about the continuity of lard cakes, he is also uneasy about people lacking the will to learn and persistence in enduring the strenuous traditional making process, therefore he has not passed on the skill to anyone yet. As tides of time sweep through, will this centuries-old legacy regain its glory?

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Evon Pang
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : The Path from Serenity Studio – YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Prawn Fishing

Early in the morning, when moist fogs still permeate the air, the old house surrounded by tall and straight palm trees, 64-year-old Seah Tiam Chai sorts out his tools in front of the doorstep, packing them onto his motorcycle and rides to the small jetty nearby in preparation to go out to the sea for prawning. Dozens of small fishing boats are parked in the intertidal zone of the estuary, with mangrove forests all over, the rivershore is not deep, Mr Seah races against time to steer his boat out of the estuary before the tide ebbs. As a layer of golden rays pop up from the horizon, and the sky gradually brightens, the motor of the boat is already ignited, sailing towards the unpredictable sea.

Since his childhood years, Mr Seah has a close relationship with the sea, accompanying his elder brother in deep sea fishing at the age of 10, picking up fishing skills and knowledge from his two elder brothers. When he was 13, he went out to sea alone in a sampan, without an engine in the olden days, rowing manually and cast a net to catch fish and prawns. Mr Seah is much experienced in sailing at sea, in his 50 years of fishing he used fishing nets of various sizes, catching different fishes according the different mesh sizes. In his youth he used to steer a fishing boat with medium horsepower, often witnessing and experiencing pirate attacks, being robbed off the fish that he worked hard to catch, the industry having a high degree of risk. Among all risks, natural hazards especially storms are beyond control.

The opposite shores invisible across the boundless blue sea, the five-metre long fishing boat seems extremely meagre, unable to withstand slightly stronger waves, even more at a loss against the sudden occurence of natural hazards. Any storms or strong waves cause direct harm to a fisherman’s production, and even life. Mr Seah’s fishing boat is not big, with sufficient room for three persons, with the addition of fishing tools and operation, the narrow boat has barely room for one to two persons to move about. Hence usually Mr Seah works alone, fishing at sea on his own.

After deciding on a suitable spot, he starts to cast prawning nets piece by piece into the sea. Twenty pieces of prawning nets forming into a fishing net, laying horizontal in the sea, the half-kilometre long shaped net drifting along with the tides, when fish and prawns pass through they will be caught in the mesh, this traditional and widely used fishing method is named: Gillnetting. Due to the fishing net being set up on the migration pathway of the schools of fish, catching them all regardless of size. An hour afterwards, Mr Seah draws up the net, keeping the prawns that are entangled on the mesh fresh by freezing them with ice, the rest of the fish will be further processed upon returning to the jetty.

Besides the unpredictable natural factors, industrial development in recent years brought upon environmental damage, endangering the fishing industry in Chuah area, especially with the construction of two power stations at the seaside. The lessening of mangrove forests and the changes in water quality caused reduction or damage to the natural habitat of prawns, directly impacting Mr Seah and his livelihood, the amount of his catch declined more than a half from usual. The fishing industry which faced higher risks than the general industries on the ground is dealt with a heavier blow.

The open-minded and optimistic Mr Seah does not wish for riches, nor did he encourage his children to work in the fishing industry. He leads a rustic life in the 50-year-old cottage which houses three generations, enjoying delightful family times with his wife and granddaughter.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim /Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Michael Lerk
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Peder B. Helland – Our Journey from YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Paku Vegetable Gatherer

As dawn breaks, there is still mild fogs throughout the air, dewdrops rolling down from the tips of leaves. Husband and wife, Lim Boon Seng (transliteration) and Loke Yuet Kwai (transliteration), parked their motorcycle aside, heading into the bushes after getting their stuff and tools ready. In what seemed to be thickets overgrown with weeds, both husband and wife utilise their sharp eyesight and deft hands, each holding a sack in one hand, while the other hand accurately picking fiddlehead ferns growing among the bushes and weeds.

Fiddleheads are wildgrown foliage, the young shoots curling inwards, looking like dainty commas or question marks, belonging to the family of edible shrubs (ferns), also known as Diplazium esculentum. They generally grow at moist, watery but sunny guttersides, having incredible vitality and wide adaptability. Common edible parts are the curly tips of young shoots and upper stems which are more delicate. Fiddleheads are nutrient-rich, boasting of high mineral content, high protein, high fibre etc. After cooking, its texture is smooth with a little mucilage, its mouthfeel crispy without any trace of bitterness.

Growing naturally in the wild, fiddleheads have a strong resistance, after the rain, they grow tenaciously in broad stretches, full of vitality as in the poem “undestroyable by fire, growing again when the breeze blows”. Nowadays, urban development and environmental pollution, as well as artificial cultivation and pesticides, are unsuitable for the growth of fiddleheads. They are only found growing wild in swampy wetlands, a type of foliage popular with rural villagers and indigenous folk. Due to the wide distribution and diversity of Diplazium esculentum, they have different names and nicknames across all regions, such as paku vegetables, wild ferns, perennial ferns, tsuen choi, midin (East Malaysia), lynx (Taiwan), sayur paku, pucuk paku, fiddleheads etc.

The hot sun shining above their heads, the ground beneath their feet humid, the 70-year-old Lim Boon Seng (transliteration) and his 67-year-old wife Loke Yuet Kwai (transliteration) each bearing one or two sacks full of fiddleheads, as well as ripe cassava harvested along the way, loading onto their motorcycle, ready to trade with restaurants or customers who placed orders. The both of them stay in Bukit Pelanduk, giving up swine farming 20 years ago in consequence of the Nipah virus outbreak tragedy, shifting towards the agricultural industry such as planting cassava and yam to make a living, one of their activities being gathering fiddleheads.

Due to the growing environment and distinctive feature of fiddleheads, there are certain dangers in the gathering process. Apart from preventing bugs and mosquitoes bites, there is need to constantly staying alert, taking precautions against attacks from snakes, lizards and wild bees which often inhabit the wild. Besides, to ensure a consistent supply of fiddleheads, the duo will walk around in search of suitable thickets, some of them as far as 20 minutes away by car. There are a few regular locations where they take routine care and manage properly to facilitate continual growth and ease gathering.

After the disaster brought upon by the Nipah virus outbreak, Lim Boon Seng (transliteration) and Loke Yuet Kwai (transliteration) and their family pull themselves back together, returning to their home in the village to seek an alternative way in making a living, their unyielding spirit similar to wildgrown fiddleheads, determined to survive.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Drone : Daniel Lim
Video Editor : Evon Pang
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Beautiful & Emotional from MorningLightMusic – YouTube

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Fú Zhōu Peaceful Eggs

Inside the well-lit kitchen, both mother and daughter, 77-year-old Tan Ai Hua (transliteration) and 53-year-old Low Lan Chee (transliteration) are busy at work, each performing their own duties while at times helping each other, without a moment’s slacking. Briefly, a spread of Fú Zhōu home cooked food is served, the sumptuous dishes fit for a banquet. Among them is Fú Zhōu Peaceful Eggs with its complicated procedures, a must-have during festive celebrations, weddings, funerals, gatherings and farewells of FúZhōunese and their relatives. It symbolizes serenity and peace, bearing hopes for year-long good health and safety.

Peaceful Eggs are also known as Golden Eggs. Folklore goes that in year 1564, when General Qī Jì Guāng and his army faced pirates at Fú Níng (now Fú Dǐng district), the villagers try to support, therefore deciding on deep fried hard-boiled Golden Eggs, to feed the military personnel, as it is easy to keep and delicious, without the need to peel shells. After General Qī Jì Guāng succeeded in banishing the pirates, the local livelihood was back to normal, the seaside areas were peaceful, and people went around happily. As a remembrance of General Qī Jì Guāng’s contribution, Golden Eggs were renamed to Peaceful Eggs.

To date, due to changes in regional food culture, the poultry eggs used in Peaceful Eggs are different. In the seaside areas of Fú Zhōu in China, people mostly use duck eggs, homophonic with “suppressing waves” in the Fú Zhōu dialect, praying for calm waves and a safe, fruitful journey. Chefs use quail eggs or dove eggs as replacement in banquets to suit the recent food trends, quail is homophonic with “safety”, therefore well received by most people. There are also FúZhōunese who source materials locally, replacing duck eggs with chicken eggs. The only thing unchanged is the deep rooted inheritance of native food culture from generation to generation.

In Bukit Pelanduk where the majority is FúZhōunese, Low Lan Chee (transliteration) and her mother uses up to nine ingredients to cook Fú Zhōu Peaceful Eggs, including bamboo shoots, shiitake mushroom, black fungus, carrots, cabbage, lily, minced pork, and eggs. The preparation of ingredients is extremely time-consuming, apart from cutting all ingredients into fine shreds, the selection of ingredients and the cooking method is also quite particular. For instance baby bamboo shoots needs to be pre-ordered from vegetable farmers, depending on its harvest; the eggs are peeled after being hard-boiled, and then deep fried in hot oil, finally adding in the stir-fried ingredients, a pot containing a cultural dish inherited for generations: Peaceful Eggs, is completed.

To cook this dish, it contains hope and blessing towards life.
To consume this dish, it accommodates prayers and cherish from others.
To master this dish, it continues the cultural legacy.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

有你 UNI Production
Producer : Mok Yii Chek
Coordinator : Daniel Lim
Cinematographer : Amelia Lim / Evon Pang
Video Editor : Amelia Lim
Production Assistant : Michael Lerk
Music : Kiss The Sky

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD