A Singlish Christmas

“Make memories…don’t let them make you.” -Michelle Liew

Author’s Note:

I have written this little tale in Singlish, the variant of English spoken among the locals here in sunny Singapore. The sentence constructions are slightly different, and I have added explanations of local expressions.

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Little Ah Ling had it all. A loving family, a comfortable home in an upscale Housing Development Board Apartment, and many friends. A stellar student, the little girl did well in school.

But holidays, especially those in December, were a yawn. A big one. Why?

The little girl didn't celebrate Christmas.

Ah Huat and Tuck Leong always put up Christmas trees with dazzling tassels streaming over the leaves in a dance and wanted very much to do the same.

But she had a little problem- her more than willful grandmother, Ah Ma Tan. The old lady didn't want to celebrate Christmas because it was not a family tradition and an unnecessary expense.

Ah Ling, however, was just as stubborn. She barged into the living room, hauling both the carton and a small Christmas tree - quite a feat for an 8-year-old.

“Ah Ma! It's Christmas! We decorate,can?” the earnest little girl set up the tree in a corner of the room.

Ah Ma Tan frowned, stirring her kopi (coffee). “Our family doesn't celebrate Christmas one lah. Why must put up the tree leh?”

“Ah Ma, no need so grumpy. You don't even know what is Christmas, right?”

“I know lah!” Ah Ma Tan snapped defensively. “ Is when people buy nonsense presents, then eat until stomach pain.”

But little Ah Ling was not one to give up easily. “Aiya(It’s ok), Granny, we can make it fun, you’ll see.” She pulled a few glittery baubles from the bags and what was…an ang ku kueh (starchy dessert filled with an array of fillings).

“What’s this?” Ah Ma Tan asked, looking at the mold sceptically.

“Decorations, lah(explanation), Singapore style.” Ah Ling looked at her earnestly.

“Then, later who clean up? Me, is it?” Ah Ma Tan sighed.

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But the little girl’s Christmas plans weren’t yet done. In a secret text to the HDB estate’s uncles and aunties: “ Christmas party at Ah Ma Tan's tomorrow! Pot luck ah-everyone must bring a dish-curry, bee hoon (vermicelli), tarts - whatever you want!”

“Wah lau(Goodness in Hokkien),my house not pasar malam(night market), leh you know." She grumbled as delivery personnel brought food to the door.

“You people are so leh ceh (troublesome). I so old already, not interested in all this party nonsense.”

“Ah Ma…please….you can also, what? Time to show off those pineapple tarts.”

But Ah Ma secretly loved the buzz around her home. It had been eons since the kampong(community) spirit was so present. But the feisty grandmother refused to admit that she was having fun. “The chicken curry make(s) the flat so smelly, who want(s) to eat? In the end, I got to keep.”

“Ah Ma, you see the tree? So nice ah, I so proud.” Ah Ling beamed, her childish pride lighting up the room. In the corner stood her masterpiece-the Christmas tree, complete with Ang Ku Kueh mold, and a paper star of Ah Ma’s old recipes.

“Ai yoh(Oh my), you make me so paiseh (embarrassed in Hokkien). Where I got teach you like that?” she exclaimed.

Ah Ling sighed.

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Despite Ah Ma’s grumbles, the party went on as planned. Uncle Tan from downstairs brought chicken curry; Auntie Ling from upstairs brought along curry puffs; Uncle Muthu, Chicken Masala and Auntie Nora, Nasi Padang (Rice cooked with coconut milk, accompanied by a host of ingredients.

All was well, with the kampong spirit very much alive. As laughter filled the living room, a resounding crash came from the kitchen.

“Ah Ma, are you alright?” Ah Ling rushed to her grandmother’s side.

“Yes, lah, girl.” She assured. But she was in tears.

Before her was a broken glass jar, some photographs of Ah Ling’s Ah Kong (grandfather), and a sprig of mistletoe. Ah Kong Tan had, sadly, passed the year before.

“We kissed under that,” Ah Ma Tan mumbled through her tears. “We lived in the same kampong, before got HDB flats. He…he used to take me into dark forest….where we would…you know." She waved the mistletoe.

“How come you never tell me?”Ah Ling was shocked.

The guests turned to each other in the living room awkwardly. Uncle Muthu’s face bore an uncomfortable grin. “Er…..masala, anyone?”

“Because it hurt lah.” Grandma nearly choked. “But maybe…time to remember.”

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Ah Ling carefully hung the spring of mistletoe on the tree. “See, Ah Ma, now everyone can share your memories of Ah Kong. “

The guests tried to relight the mood. “Eh, Christmas lah, let’s sing songs, don’t cry cry.”Uncle Tan got the “curry puffs” rolling. Uncle Muthu crooned his Elvis favourite - Blue Christmas - while Auntie Ling stretched her vocal chops with Silver Bells.

The star of the show was a surprise - Ah Ma Tan melted karaoke hearts with a Chinese version of Silent Night (Ping An Ye).

Ah Ling watched her grandmother, her mouth large enough to welcome two oversized curry puffs.

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After all the guests left, Ah Ma Tan looked at her stubborn granddaughter with new warmth.

“Not bad lah, we can do again next year.” Ah Ma cleared the dishes. “We eat turkey.”

“Are you sure, turkey? Expensive, leh.” Ah Ling teased.

“Can lah. As long as you help wash up.”

From then on, no neighbour in the estate could celebrate Christmas without Ah Ma Tan.