My Name Is Yi Chun

“Apa tengok luar tingkap wei?”
(Loosely translated: Why are you looking outside the window?)


“Huh?”, I was reluctantly brought back to reality by James.


“Tengok je...”, was my short and brief reply.
(Just looking...)


James and I were in Syimah’s bedroom. She shares a flat with Belinda and another person whom I failed to remember the name and gender (and who also wasn’t present on that day, so give me a break!).

Anyway, James got to know Syimah over a year ago and she invited us over for some nasi lemak one Saturday afternoon. I remember exactly how James introduced me to Syimah when we arrived at her place five minutes earlier;


“Syimah, this is Ijun. Ijun, meet Syimah.”


“Hi”, I offered a smile and feeling a bit awkward.


I was always unsure if a lady wants a handshake. I usually wait to see if she would offer one first. If she sticks her hand out, I would shake it.


“Hello”, she said. “Please come straight in. I’m still cooking.”


No hand sticking out. Looks like no handshake here.


“Oh ok. Come Ijun”, James was making sure I was well looked after.


James and I were led straight to her bedroom. It would seem that this flat was either missing a living room, or it has simply just been converted into another bedroom.

In any case, there we were, trying to make ourselves comfortable in Syimah’s bedroom. She had gone back to the kitchen. James was having a browse on the bookshelves while I was more intrigued by the bedroom window, for some strange reason.


“Ah, look! Sepet!”, he grabbed an authentic VCD copy (complete with SIRIM's holographic sticker) from the shelf, sounding like a miner who had finally struck gold.


“Come, let’s watch it!”, he continued.


He walked out to the hallway and started to holler,


“Syimah, can we watch your Sepet or not???”


“Go ahead!”, was a very distant yet audible reply from the kitchen across the flat.


James quickly closed the door. My Javanese nostrils were flaring to the scent of sambal tumis as it crept rapidly into Syimah’s bedroom. The walls of my mouth soon filled with fresh manly saliva.


“Ugh. Lapar.”, I thought to myself.
(Ugh. Starving.)


After fumbling exploring through Syima’s DVD player and sound system, we managed to get Sepet on the telly. I have actually seen the film before so this time round is purely for James’ benefit. He was really keen on watching it.


About forty minutes later, it was time to swap to the second VCD. Syimah entered the room,


“So have you guys finished it?”


“Not yet. We’re about to in the second disc.”, James explained.


“Korang tak pernah tengok ke?”, she continued.
(You guys haven’t watched it before?)


"No", said James.


“Dah”, I boastingly replied.
(I have.)


“Best kan?”, Syimah offered her opinion towards the movie.
(Good, isn’t it?)


“Boleh lah.. tapi ada ke family Melayu macam tuh?”
(It’s passable, but is there truly a Malay family like that?)


“Wah pandai you cakap Melayu. Takde telo langsung. All your friends cakap macam ni ke James?”, Syimah expressed her amazement.
(Wow you speak Malay fluently. No accent at all. Do all your friends speak like this James?)


“Eh?”, James had a bewildered look on his face.


So did I, which include my left eyebrow raising itself by two inches.


James turned his head towards me, back at Syimah and back again towards me.


“You’re Chinese aren’t you?”, uncertainty was clouding Syimah’s judgement.


“Errr...”, I turned toward James.


“Errr...”, James looked at me.


“Yes. Yes I am”, I said confidently.


I had no idea why I said that. I could clearly see the white of James' eyes from five feet away as they grew larger.


“Ok I’m heading back to the kitchen. Once you guys have finished the movie, we can eat.”, Syimah went away again.


As the door closed behind her, both James and I broke into the most silent laughter we ever had, complete with our hands slowly slapping against the carpeted floor, like that of a wrestling referee.





TO BE CONTINUED...