Cultured People

Goh Sin Tub from thinkquest.org

Chinese New Year. The season of hongbao’s (Chinese for red packets) for children, and gifts in kind to be delivered to people’s homes before the big day, Chu Yi, the first day of the Lunar New year.

Helen fussed about, devoting much time, energy and money to shopping for the package of gifts for Mr Loo’s family. Mr Loo was her husband’s rich cousin who lived in a beautiful mansion in prestigious District 10. She packed her purchases with meticulous care in a lovely red-painted basket she bought from a gift’s boutique in Orchard Road, wrapped everything up in printed pink cellophane banded with a red ribbon, topping the magnificent assemblage with a posy of artificial roses.

The entire operation took her two evenings. At last she was satisfied that it was good enough for the Loo’s. She asked her husband to pass judgment.

“Okay,” Joe said. He wasn’t into the aesthetics of gift wrapping. But he was not ungrateful that someone in the family was, even of he wasn’t convinced she needed to go to all that trouble. He would have just rung up the gifts people. He said so.

“Not the same thing – no personal touch,” his wife said. “The Loo’s are cultured people, you know? They use Wedgwood china and Tiffany cloth napkins even when only eating lunch by themselves at home. They attend SSO concerts. And you saw those original Liu Kang paintings on the walls of their lounge? We can’t give them just any ordinary thing from anywhere!”

Fortunately the remaining gifts did not need that kind of intensive input. Otherwise she would have been at it forever. When she was finished she went through her gift list once more.

She yelped. “Hey! I’ve forgotten that second cousin of yours, Joe. You remember Ah Gek, the widow who works as a washerwoman? She and her poor sickly sister may not be cultured people like the Loos, but you remember how she surprised us last year visiting us with her package of sweets and nuts. Luckily I found something to return to her as our gift. That’s our custom. Where there is coming in, there must be giving out too! We should go to her place first and give her something this year. After all, she’s your elder – her father was much older than yours…But what to give her?”

“Anything will do! Whatever you’re giving the others…” Joe often wondered why Helen had to select a variety – different gifts for different recipients. What did it really matter if you gave everyone the same thing? And so long as you were early enough with your giving, you wouldn’t commit that horrendous atrocity: returning a waxed duck for a waxed duck or bak kua (wafer-thin slices of grilled pork) for bak kua.

“What about Chinese sausages?” Helen asked. Joe had no problem with that or any other gift suggestion for that matter. So Chinese sausages it was for Ah Gek.

Ah Gek’s old two-room flat was on the route to the Loo mansion. They decided they would drop briefly in on her on their way home, provided they were not delayed by the Loos’ hospitality.

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The guard at the gate of the mansion allowed them to drive in. They stopped their car at the marble-walled porch. They rang the sculptured bronze doorbell. The carved oak wall was opened by one of the Loos’ maids who was, of course, uniformed, complete with the embroidered Loo logo.

“Who is it?” They heard Loo’s voice asking from the inside of the house.

The maid went in. “Visitors with a gift basket, sir, they could hear her loud reply. Loo was hard of hearing.

“Just tell them to leave it in corner with the other baskets!”

“Sir, it’s not delivery people. It’s your relatives.”

“Never mind, just tell them I’m too busy. Say I can’t come out…”

Busy? Joe and Helen could hear the football commentary coming from the TV inside.

“Maybe better if I call Ma’am down to talk with them, sir?”

“Okay, whatever you like…”

Joe and Helen waited a while before Mrs Loo appeared.

“Oh, it’s you? Er, what’s your name…Joe, isn’t it? And, and she’s… whatever? Don’t have time to talk. Got to run. My mahjong friends are waiting. Just leave your thing in that corner. Thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks!”

They could not get a word in. She spoke like a machine-gun. Her thanks were shot out like bullets – rat-tat-tat-tat! And then she was silent, body half-turned back – an unspoken “Anything else?” on her face.

They were dismissed.

They said goodbye. She did not hear them. She had already gone upstairs.

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They drove off, not saying anything, a shade shell-shocked. Joe suddenly remembered and turned the car around. They went to Ah Gek’s two-room flat, which she shared with her sister. The neighbourhood was shabby, the buildings already slated for demolition.

Ah Gek’s flat was sparsely furnished, but everything was neat and tidy. Helen noted that the blue-coloured crockery they had on their table, though inexpensive plastic, was still smart-looking.

No beautiful paintings, of course.

But on one wall there was something given pride of place. There, Ah Gek and her sister venerated their ancestors. The black-and-white photos hung over a small, tidy altar – forefathers made immortal by the remembrance of faithful descendants. Joe recognized their common grandfathers. He felt guilty. He had never thought of the putting up their photos in his own home.

The sisters were overwhelmed by their visit. They received them as though they were royalty. They insisted on at least serving them a drink. They thanked them repeatedly, openly touched that Joe and Helen, who lived in a mansion, should honour them by coming up to their humble flat.

When they handed the sisters their gift, Ah Gek and her sister rushed into their bedroom and came out with a return gift. A box of birds’ nest, an expensive delicacy, never mind what grade.

Joe and Helen were embarrassed. They had only bought Ah Gek some Chinese sausages – by comparison, cheap. They did not want to take the sisters’ gifts. They said they need not return them anything. But the sisters insisted. That’s our custom, our culture, the way we have been brought up.

“Woo jip woo ch’oot” they said in their Hokkien dialect. Where there is coming in, there must be giving out too.

And Joe and Helen were seen off all the way down to their car. It was their turn to be overwhelmed – by the sisters’ grateful thanks and goodbyes to relatives who had honoured them with a visit.

On their way, Joe and Helen talked.

About paintings and pictures on the wall. About Wedgwood and plastic crockery. About receptions and goodbyes. About Chinese custom.

And about cultured people – and uncultured people.

Glossary

Chinese New Year

Chinese New Year is generally considered the most important festival for the Chinese. It falls on the first day of the first month of the lunar calendar and is therefore also known as Lunar New Year. Since it marks the beginning of the year, it is also called the Spring Festival.

The Chinese prepare for the Chinese New Year weeks before the festival. They spring-clean their homes by discarding old or unwanted things and cleaning the house thoroughly. Some even give their homes fresh coats of paint. Spring-cleaning is done not only to welcome the new year but also to signify a fresh start to the year.

Some Chinese put up spring couplets on the doors or walls of their homes. Spring couplets are verses, which have two lines, each containing the same number of words. They are written on red paper and express auspicious sayings or wishes.

Write Up

In this story, we see the importance of social status in a society. The rich are considered "cultured" because they live in luxury and are able to afford anything their hearts desire. The poor, on the other hand, are looked down upon and even ignored just because they don’t wear designer clothes and live in a nice house. Everyday, people are judged based on their appearances and not by who they truly are. Few people realize that it's what's inside that counts. Helen and Joe made the same mistake when they felt that the Loos were superior to Ah Gek and her sister who were not as wealthy. It is common to think that the cultured are those who are rich. Thus, it is ironic that Helen and Joe discover, in the end, that those who are cultured need not be rich but they are well-mannered, respectful, have moral values and more importantly, have a compassionate heart.

In Singapore, the wealthy are often more influential than the poor. They have a certain status because they possess the 5 'C's - Condominium, Cash, Credit card, Car and Country club membership. (The 5 'C's were often used to describe the criteria by which Singaporeans judge whether or not they are successful or whether they have "made it" in life.) However, today, Singaporeans have moved beyond a pre-occupation with material things and they value other things in life that are more important (i.e. charity work, relationships).