Balik The Kampung And “Bird Fight Club”

We are on covert visit to my inlaws’. As in, they had no idea we would pull up at their doorstep in the village in an airport taxi. As in, Rockstar gets out of the car planning to yell “Surprise!” and then ends up in a blank staring match with my father-in-law who happens to be standing at the front gate looking at him uncomprehendingly. Hmm. The child getting out of that cab looks like my eldest grandson.

So this morning we are taken back to a noodles Kopitiam famously known as “Hong Kong”. Apparently its proprietors went to Hong Kong to learn how to make the noodles, and then came home and started this place up. And they do amateur photography to boot, the inside of the place is plastered with blowups of their work (my jaw dropped – I thought they were random calendar and poster pictures, the pics are that good.)

Y-eah, I forgot to take pictures of the food. Sorry. Erm, the noodles were great?

Kings ate two noodles lunches. Rockstar had one. But then dug into the spare packet of noodles we tar-powed, several hours later. I guess that means the noodles were great. I did like them fine, I just hadn’t been paying that much attention to eating <sheepish>. But well Kings says they are really, really good – I think they’re homemade, at any rate I would say they serve some of the best home-made soybean drink – not ridiculously sweet and Rockstar had quite a bit.

And then Kings had a “Boy, When I Was Your Age…..” moment and decided to show Rockstar his Kindergarten and do the whole See How Lucky You Are Rockstar matinee. Uncut extended version.

And then nearby the overgrown grounds of Kings’ first formal schooling experience (I say formal because he used to run a little ice-lolly outfit complete with credit system in case fellow village kids hadn’t got their pocket money for the week but still wanted a 5 sen lolly – Kings kept a tally and then asked his friends’ parents to settle the tab every few weeks… Oh, and he also sold fish he caught from the river behind the house and helped his parents run the snack stall at the local cinema, so Kindy… Uh yeah, sure..) we discovered… what is this, Bird Fight Club?

We are surveyed impassively by a couple village mutts and Kings pops Rockstar on his shoulders (shades of being chased by strays as a child – I maintain he really shouldn’t have run, it’s mutt-speak for Come Chase Me! Fun!) only to be stopped as we step into the compound. It is explained to us that Rockstar is sitting too high and may spook the “fighting birds”.

I have no idea what they mean by “fight,” and apparently there is some wagering too… OK it’s entirely possible my father-in-law is totally putting me on because they sound and look just like songbirds, not say the chickens I’ve heard of in cock-fighting. (But it’s true Kings is asked to take Rockstar off his shoulders though I think it’s more spooked birds don’t break out in song.)

My mum, who is Buddhist/ Taoist, used to tell me when I was a child that she hoped to be reincarnated as a sparrow so she would always fly free… So I kinda had this imagery of birds as always meant to fly about wherever they please… Even if they might get eaten by eagles (well I never said I thought I was right all the time…)

Ok I don't get this one - the crickets don't hop away when the bird owners squeeze em thru the bars of the bird cages. Hmm. And the birds don't seem hungry either. So it was basically no one wants to eat anyone and no one wants to escape being not eaten.

…Also an old saying, “It is the beautiful bird that gets caged.” And then I added salt and vinegar and wondered if the brilliant, the child proteges, ever chose their own paths in life or enjoyed their childhoods… I find the word “gifted” slightly ironic… It’s the beautiful or gifted bird that gets caged…