Kampung

A 2 gun salute for my late aunt done by my cousin Thomas (you can barely make out the shotgun in the background) during the burning ceremony to commemorate my aunts' 100 days of passing. 

Among things that were burnt were her clothes and personal items, and the half done mat/tikar which she never got to finish making. I somehow felt a little sad watching the mat burn away.

It's funny that when I was little, I dreaded going back to my mother's hometown. There was just something about the sweltering heat of sitting in a crowded little wooden house aired only by 2 standing fans, and the whiff of peculiar smells coming from the land (presumably from the dogs, pigs, chickens, and buffalos running freely in close proximity) that made me dislike it so much. 

But I think over time, age and absence has made me learn to appreciate my heritage more, and today I didn't mind the heat nor the pigs running about at all. We got excited when my mother carried my niece out to smell the leaves-- a kadazan tradition to mark the little one's first time in the village. We excitedly pointed out the pigs to my niece, and reminisced about the times when my brother and cousin threw pebbles at my grandmother's sows a long time ago-- which then got really angry and decided to chase them. I started appreciating the simple lifestyle of the village, and the wooden houses that were built by these very people with their own hands and tools. Instead of sleeping in the car like i usually do, I stayed up this time and appreciated the scenery from Papar to Kuala Penyu where I was greeted with lush green vegetation, alternated with the occasional beach here and there.

I'm glad to be home.