UNINESS – Page 9 – Together we unfold Malaysian local cultures.

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 Hai Wah and 53-year-old Lau Lan Chi 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, Lau Lan Chi 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

The Ferryman

The Ferryman. Sailing on rivers, cruising across two shores, ferrying people across the Sepang river, handling a small ferry, closing the gap between two states, and ease countless passengers who cross the river. The Tang family has been operating at this jetty for three generations, never ceasing in maintaining this travel passage for inhabitants from these two shores.

The Sepang river flows between the states of Negeri Sembilan and Selangor, a work of nature separating two states. Not only is Sepang river the source of living for neighbouring villagers, it also bridges economical activity for residents from both ends. Transportation via water plays an important role, especially between Sungai Pelek located in the southeast part of Selangor and Bukit Pelanduk located at the northwest of Negeri Sembilan.

In the earlier days where land transportation were not developed, the inhabitants in the proximity are dependent on the boat service, where students go to school, housewives go shopping, farmers go to work, and more on. The scene back then was extremely busy, with plenty of boats crossing to and fro the river. In the golden era, there were plenty of boat and ferry services along the riverside, with some running their own independent business by building a simple jetty in their own territory. Since the traffic system connecting with the city were developed and roads were built, for now there is only one remaining ferry service.

The 63-year-old ferryman, who goes by Tang Kah Chai, navigates the small ferry skilfully over the shores of Negeri Sembilan (Bukit Pelanduk) and Selangor (Sungai Pelek) on a daily basis, fetching batches of passengers across the river. The family business is now in the third generation. During the Japanese occupation, Tang’s grandfather initiated the business with a small sampan rowed manually. It was hard work. In the recent decades, evolution of technology made life easier for boatmen and ferrymen, as the boats and ferries are powered by engine. This also boosted the safety of passengers, as well as increases the number of passengers each trip.

The river surface is about 150 metres wide, the trip across the shores only takes a couple of minutes, yet it employs the services of three generations of ferrymen for almost 80 years. They even earned the regard of the local community. A short encounter on the ferry daily makes passengers familiar with the ferryman, chit-chatting while on the ferry makes them more close knit, and illustrates a warm affection for each other.

Even though nowadays the traffic system is completed, the communion between Bukit Pelanduk and Sungai Pelek on the opposite side since settling in for half a century, where their living and economy has long been inseparable, however there is still no news about a bridge construction plan that the local residents were looking forward to for ages. The main communication and transport channels are travelling 20 minutes by land or two minutes by water.

Since ferries powered by engines replaced manual rowing, the tickets inflated from just a few cents to 50 cents. As the last ferryman in three generations of the Tang family, Tang Kah Chai remains committed steadfastly, crossing the river daily from early morning to the evening all year long.

For now, the two families of Tang and Chong taking turns weekly to be in charge of the jetty.

Text: Daniel Lim

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 : Touching from Ashamaluev Music

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Chuan Lee Chan

Wearing a protective eye mask, then simply wrapping the nose and mouth with a rag to block fumes and metal dust. These are the standard procedures practised daily by octogenarian Master Lim Chang Wan (transliteration). The blazing charcoal fire burns through the steel, turning it bright red. Striking while the iron is hot, husband and wife joined forces to pinch and hammer, cutting the steel bar into small pieces. After that, the steel is beaten into shape with the use of an air forging hammer and an iron hammer. The shaped steel is then returned to the fireplace to be burned until red. With the above steps repeated over and over again, only could the raw steel be shaped. The final step is quenching, which is air-hardening. Putting the red-hot steel into a liquid for immediate cooling can enhance the hardness and strength, this process puts the ironsmith’s skills to test.

Having almost 100 years of history, the blue single-storey antique wooden shop lot is covered beneath tree shades, nestled in the old streets of Pasir Penambang, is the iron shop Chuan Lee Chan. More than half of a century ago, Master Lim Chang Wan (transliteration) who was born in Klang relocated to Pasir Penambang with his family in 1952. His father who was also an ironsmith bought the shop, negotiated with the ex-shop owner to continue using his signboard, and started running his own iron shop. Lim Chang Wan (transliteration) and his elder brother followed in their father’s footsteps to manufacture knives since they were teenagers.

At the beginning stage, competition was intense, as knives are durable unlike daily supplies. The Lim siblings learned the forte from others in the industry to enhance their skills. Not only so, they also personally sell the knives they made to other areas, such as Sasaran, Kapar, Banting, and Tanjung Sepat. After decades of diligence and contribution, Chuan Lee Chan gained recognition around 1982, as word of mouth spread and customers came to purchase and place customised orders. As their business stabilised, they stopped selling knives in other areas.

As times moved on, the elderly Master Lim is still energetic and enthusiastic. Although he is downcast that traditional household ironsmith could not compete with industrialised manufacturers in terms of high production numbers and low costs, Master Lim enjoys forging knives as usual, and immerses himself in it, especially when receiving praise from the customers. Customers are willing to purchase a better quality knife at a higher price, especially plantation owners in the neighbouring areas. As the saying goes, “To work efficiently, your tools must be sharp”. The sharp and durable knives Master Lim manufactured not only helped increase productivity at the plantations, his ironsmith store earned a good reputation as well, in a win-win situation.

Master Lim has been working with knives for 65 years, and experienced the ups and downs in the ironsmith industry. Half-retiring, he no longer accepts large numbers of orders or large projects. He still operates on a daily basis, providing walk-in customers from all backgrounds knife sharpening and air-hardening services. He also sells a variety of knives sourced elsewhere. None of his three children were interested in taking up the labouring trade. The metal tools produced by hard labour of ironsmiths, the sounds of the hammer striking, and one by one the household iron shops may become obsolete, vanishing from sight.

The blue wooden shop lot underneath the trees’ shades, and the ’22’ mark on the knives, Lim Chang Wan (transliteration) has been hammering most of his life.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

Nipah Water

Peeling the flower cluster of the Attap plant layer by layer, wrapping with a plastic bag for the liquid to gradually flow in, that is how Air Nira Nipah or more commonly known as Attap seed water came to be. Freshly extracted Nipah water can be consumed immediately. The liquid is translucent with a hint of brownish colour, its taste is richly sweet, its function is to cool down the human body and aids digestion. Nipah water is naturally fermented after standing in the open for 8 hours, the liquid will turn into a semi-translucent with milk white colour. Being kept properly and set aside to ferment for 44 days or more, the Nipah water will ripen into Nipah vinegar, which is said to have medical efficacy and helps in treatment of the digestive system, as well as kidney stones. Nipah water is popular among the Malay community, especially in the region of Kedah, Kelantan, and Terengganu.

The fit and agile Halim is 67 years old, he plants Attap trees all around his humble abode in Bagan Pasir, a small fishing village in Tanjung Karang. Seven years ago, he got his father to show him how to extract Nipah water, brought the technique from his hometown in Perak to his own property, and started a small business of selling Nipah water. From cultivating Attap plants with the utmost care, to the maturity of the fruits, and extracting the liquid from the flower cluster of the plant, all these processes require his attentiveness and skills. For instance, the flower cluster needs to be taken extensive care of and be massaged for one month, so that it may yield more liquid.

Planting and extracting Nipah water is a challenging task. The only species of palm adapted to the mangrove biome, Attap palms grow in humid swamp areas. Besides constantly immersing both feet in the muddy swamp waters, he also need to take precaution against insect infestation and animals sabotage. Nipah water needs to be collected from the flower cluster daily, as it is unsuitable to be left in ambient temperature for long. It needs to be promptly chilled to prevent fermentation and preserve freshness. On the other hand, changes in the weather will directly impact the harvest.

There are various values and usage of the Attap plant. In old times, humans found out to use Attap leaves as material for roofs, and to weave handicraft such as baskets. The Attap fruit grows in bunches of dozens, its semi-translucent flesh sweet and tender. It can be consumed raw, made into beverages, or added into shaved ice to add some texture. Due to the complicated steps in the production of Nipah water, the need to adhere to a strict timeline, and prone to deteriorate after extracting therefore must be consumed freshly, it is disadvantaged and has limited potential for commercialization. Even so, it illustrates the wise ways humans employ natural resources.

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 : If You Close Your Eyes I’m Still With You

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Grave Stone Smith

Walking along the narrow road across the grove, you may spot a few irregular-shaped big stones between the grass and trees, some of them with traces of cutting. At the end of the winding path, you may hear loud hammering. Looking over to the source of the noise, there is a small wooden shed hidden within lush green bushes and branches. The shed is made up of rustic wood and a few pieces of zinc, scattered around are some iron chisels and hammers, as well as nearly a hundred of granite pieces. These are long-time friends of Master Kuah Leong Chuan, who has been keeping up the ancestral business for over forty years.

The crude and unremarkable tiny shed is located in Kuala Selangor, beside the main road of Kuala Selangor bridge. In the past few decades, it has witnessed the birth of countless tomb stones, mostly those of muslims called ‘Batu Nisan’. All these are the works of Master Kuah, who himself pick the stone, cut, and then carefully carve into shape. He even writes and carves the Jawi words on the grave stone too.

Mr Kuah, who is 64 years old, and his elder brother have been helping his father running the family business since young. Their family has been stone smiths for four generations. Since Mr Kuah’s great-grandfather migrated overseas from China to Malaysia, the family made a living by carving holy figures and stone lions for temples, whereas Mr Kuah’s father worked on stone tools like mortar and pestle, stone mills etc. When Mr Kuah graduated from high school, he went into business together with his elder brother until now. They are the fifth generation of the trade, now they mainly craft and sell grave stones, instead of stone tools.

Material sourcing, material selection, and carving are all done locally. For the past forty over years, Master Kuah has been using granite from the hills nearby, which used to be a famous stone quarry during the British colonisation era. Due to the granite stones being of high quality, in the heyday of stone craft, there were five or six families of stone smiths who set up workshop in the same hill area. Having been through decades of stone mining, the number of stones in the quarry were not exhausted, on the contrary the stones surprisingly grew into an infinity number. Master Kuah named those as ‘living stones’, as these unique granite did not corrode but expand over time. Such a trait is greatly popular among the Malay community.

The process of transforming a huge solid stone to a piece of tomb stone exhibits Master Kuah’s skills and expertise. From deducing the stone’s age by its pattern, determining the quality by the stone’s surface, the artful skills of cutting open the stone, to self taught Jawi, not many stone smiths can achieve such a feat on their own.

As times progress, some of the traditional trades and skills might be drowned in the swift development. Fellow stone smiths in Kuala Selangor either retire or concluded business, and Master Kuah’s brother with whom he has been working hand in hand over the years became unable to shoulder such tedious work due to illness. As he has no children, and no apprentice, now there is just Master Kuah carving away all alone in the little wooden shed beneath the trees shade.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

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

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Floral Lanterns

As the Cantonese saying goes, “Light up the lanterns when you walk on the streets, don’t be scared of police arresting you,” Granny Thong Aw Loy reminiscing about the mid-autumn festival celebrations in her childhood, where everyone gathers together playing with lanterns and wandering around the streets in the village while humming this playful little tune.

Despite her octogenarian age, Granny Thong is bright and optimistic, paying full attention to the lantern in making, not slacking for even a moment. The small space between the parlour and her room is Granny Thong’s personal workshop, the materials and tools she needed tidily kept in boxes of all sizes arranged around her, the handy distance easing her production. Rows and rows of various traditional lanterns are hanging above her, from her handmade floral lantern and hexagonal lanterns, to the cellophane lanterns her family crafted and sell.

Born and bred in Teluk Intan, Granny Thong comes from a family of lantern makers. Since a tender age, she and her siblings help their parents to assemble lanterns, almost 70 years ago. Her signature floral lantern is now rarely seen in the market, and there are only a handful of gurus who mastered the craft. Besides deft hands, the process of making a floral lantern requires the utmost attention, patience, and effort. The thickness of bamboo sticks used attest her skills and experience, while the six types of colourful paper flowers, such as rose and chrysanthemum, are made carefully, lining layer by layer using featherweight wrinkled paper. The creation of a traditional lantern is meticulous and time consuming, like an artwork masterpiece, seldom seen. It is especially painful to see this craft gradually dying out in this era due to the mismatch in profit and time costs.

Under the same roof, Mr Yim Sai Peng and wife Chek Hiu Lan (transliteration) are the third generation in the traditional family business, focusing on producing cellophane lanterns of all shapes and sizes. More than 30 varieties of the cellophane lanterns are sold and distributed across Malaysia, as well as overseas. Since entering the 21st century, the rapid development of information and technology emphasizes efficiency, digital communication overpower socializing and interactions between human beings. In this day of reunion, maybe you should take a break, light a lantern, feel the warmth of the candlelight awakening the meaning of this traditional festival, and may the culture be handed down endlessly.

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 : Blue Butterfly from Felt Music

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Traditional Photo Studio

A photograph may be thin and fragile, yet it involves a strong and solid process consisting of genuine dedication. Entering a traditional photo studio, the entire family dress neatly for their family portrait. Let the family relationship be framed by lights and shadows, and let life moments be captured by the camera. Compared with the convenience of digital technology, stepping into a photography studio feels more formal. Dressing up for the shooting, minutely adjusting facial expressions and angles, just for a satisfying photograph to commemorate the moment.

Before technology and digital products became widespread, photography is commonly viewed as a luxury. People would look forward to have their photos taken at a photography studio on special occasions such as marriage, as it was a grand affair. The photo studio and the photographer shoulder the responsibility of testifying memorable moments. In the past, traditional photography studios are set up in high density downtown areas. Besides generating a steady income, the studios also convenience ancestors of the Chinese community who worked overseas, as they could have their photos taken, and sent together with their hard-earned money back to their hometown.

Port Dickson is home to the only seaport in Negeri Sembilan. During the British colonisation, a railroad connecting with Seremban was built, linking to the railways of Peninsular Malaysia. The integrated transport system brought on the economic development of Port Dickson, transforming the small seaside town into a commercial hub for transportation, businesses, fisheries, and all sorts of fuel manufacturing plants. Tucked in the old streets of Port Dickson, Beautiful Star Studio is eyewitness to the transition and historical track of the town.

Registered in 1936, Beautiful Star Studio is among the earliest established photo studios in Port Dickson, and is one of the minority traditional photo studios that is still in operation. The current owner, Mr Loh Lian Peh, aged 62, is the third generation owner of the photography studio, and also the photographer. Following in his father and brother’s footsteps at the age of 18, he is involved in many fields of photography, undertaking the role of professional photographer for various energy factories for events, celebration, and site construction launches. Mr Loh and his elder brother, Loh Lian Wah (transliteration) have been assigned as photographer for a few major fuel manufacturing plants, working together as trusted partners for decades.

Various photographs are arranged neatly on the walls surrounding the studio, for instance family photos from all races, individual and celebrities’ portraits, as well as fuel manufacturing plants. One of the walls is dedicated to extremely valuable photos of Port Dickson’s old streets and fishing port from past times. The third generation of the family business falls on Mr Loh’s shoulders, crossing over three eras of photography advancement. From black and white to full colour photos, then digitalisation; from developing films in a dark room, to instant printing, then digital conversion. The Loh family went through the blossoming and declining of the traditional photo studio and photo printing industries. In today’s fast-changing world, only printed photos are of a substantial existence, holding on to past times.

The 31st of August this year marks Malaysia’s independence day, as well as Beautiful Star Studio’s last day of operations. Coincidentally, Mr Loh was born in the year 1957.

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 : Wedding Day from Youtube

COPYRIGHTS 2019 ECHINOIDEA SDN BHD

Glutinous Rice Cakes

Glutinous rice, sugar, bamboo tubes, banana leaves, firewood, rack stove, big pot, and a small knife to be hung on the pot’s lid, combined with a marathon-like 24-hour non-stop steaming and stirring. The glutinous rice liquid caramelise from white to to golden in colour, and thicken into a paste; the craft passed on from elders to youngsters, cultural customs and traditions being inherited from one generation to another, all of that happens at the conventional Hakka Chinese New Year rice cake making project in the village of Kuala Kubu Bharu.

The project is actively joined by villagers of all ages, cooperating with each other, following the traditional ways of making rice cake, and also sustaining the cultural rituals. The elders teach devotedly, and the youngsters learn modestly. In the process, the two generations get to interact with each other, which is a seldom occasion. The round (cylindrical) shape of the rice cake symbolises reunion, whereas the sweet and sticky mouthfeel of the rice cake is likened to expectations of the upcoming year: living a sweet life for the entire year, and a firm relationship between the family members.

Even though the process of making the traditional steamed rice cake is complicated, the younger generation never cease to explore and learn under the guidance of the elders, until they master the skills to make rice cakes independently. It is indeed an excellent opportunity, especially for those who regularly work outstation, to gather with their family and friends, and make rice cakes together.

The procedures of making rice cakes require 24 hours of continual commitment, from lifting the pot lid to stir to ensure even heating of the glutinous rice liquid, the youngsters also need to stay up throughout the night to take care of the stove, battling high heat and fatigue, until the next day when the mass is transferred to their bamboo tube containers lined with banana leaves. Preparation of the equipment and ingredients started a week beforehand. From washing, soaking, press dry, and compressing the glutinous rice, to collecting and processing bamboo tubes and banana leaves. Interestingly, the firewood used in making rice cakes were either blown down by wind or abandoned. After collecting, the wood is stored in a shed to ensure dryness.

The rice caking making project of Kuala Kubu Bharu is not practised for decades, but rather an accidental success in 2014 that engaged villagers of all ages to participate in the event. The scene where both old and young generations join forces to make rice cakes illustrates the fine culture legacy, embracing their heritage.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen

Moisturising Powder

A plethora of milky white granules in the shape of a teardrop, put a few into the palms, dip some water, and spread it on the face or skin for a cool and refreshing effect. This is what older generations have been using to battle the scorching sun and its heat, also acting as sunblock. Besides, this is the traditional skincare product of grandmothers and grandaunts, having the functions of oil cleansing, getting rid of acne, reduce swelling and stop itchiness. This is the most natural form of skincare products, simply made from rice and water. This handicraft is rarely seen now, and there are only a few who mastered it. This is moisturising powder.

Back in the days when skincare products and makeup were not popular, almost every family uses moisturising powder, or even make it themselves, as the ingredients are simple, and have no side effects, suitable for all ages. As times change, there are a wide variety of skincare products on the market, therefore the time-consuming and laborious craft of moisturising powder fell out of favour, especially the stringent smell during the crushed rice fermentation process, which drives people away for miles.

Located at a riverside village in Balik Pulau, Penang, in Kampung Jalan Baru, stands the only remaining traditional handmade moisturising powder manufacturer, Lean Seng Cooling Powder, also known as Wei’s. Yeoh Siong Huat, the second generation owner of the manufacturing site, took over the business that his dad Yeoh Keng Beng started. The senior Mr Yeoh worked humbly for the whole of his life, picking up multiple trades and experienced in various fields. He started manufacturing moisturising powder part-time when he was 31 years old and established the moisturising powder factory, which was about 40 years ago. Over the years, Mr Yeoh senior worked tirelessly with the two ingredients (rice and water), as well as dealing with the weather, and was content with his work. He gained precious experience in estimating the consistency and quality of the rice liquid, moreover he designed a new machine to ease the process of having to press the powder granules one by one using a conical bag.

Although the procedures of making moisturising powder are time-consuming and laborious, having to bear the odour from the fermentation process, and also need to keep an eye on the weather changes, but moisturising powder gradually gained recognition and popularity under Mr Yeoh senior’s perseverance. His wife and him seldom travel, their three children helped to supply the moisturising powders outstation to wholesalers. They also welcome visitors and students to take a tour if the manufacturing site. The general public play an important role in spreading word-of-mouth for traditional crafts to gain more acknowledgement and support, just like the powers of a fountain, pushing the cultural tradition further.

The second generation owner, Mr Yeoh Siong Huat, quitted his job as a goldsmith in 2016, and went back to his hometown to assist his father in the moisturising powder business, in order that the craft continues its legacy, repaying his father’s lifelong efforts to promote the business. For traditional skills and crafts to flourish, willpower and dedication are two key factors that could never be missed. In that same year, the senior Mr Yeoh passed away.

Text: Daniel Lim & Pua Hui Wen