154
Ah Wun, Ah Hoy, and Ah Seu, the latter two being our daily playmates. A cluster of Chinese homes bordered a large empty area behind our duplex and there Mother became acquainted with the Leong Chew's, the Chun Loy's and the Goo Dow's. For Mother, preparation to go to a friend's or to a party or to a Chinese opera meant getting gifts ready for the friend, dressing herself and us children in fine clothes, and hiring a hack to drive us there. An air of anticipation and excitement would prevail. Although we did not live far from the Red Light District in Iwilei, we had to commute by hack to visit a friend there.
Mother knew instinctively how to take care of us when we became ill. I was not a robust child. I do not recall ever being seen by a doctor when I was growing up. Father would describe our symptoms to a herbalist, who would then select certain herbs to be brewed as a drink for our ailments. I always resisted these concoctions, a conglomerate of twigs, leaves, seeds and, at times, even earthworms and cockroaches. In spite of much coaxing and scolding, I would continue to resist until someone would finally hold my nose while another would pour the brew into my mouth, thus forcing me to swallow. This often resulted in some vomiting, much to the annoyance of Mother, who, nevertheless, would reward me with one or two black dates that accompanied each dose of medicine. Before her conversion to Christianity, she also had superstitious practices as part of the cure. She would start a charcoal fire in a brazier, sprinkle some alum over it, and then swing me back and forth over the smoldering heat, pulling my ears one at a time and chanting over and over, "Me Big not afraid! Little Pig afraid"
She believed that this chant would send the evil spirit causing my illness to a pig. It worked!
When I was about four, I became very ill with diarrhea, discharging so much blood that I was unable to walk from weakness. Mother asked Father to consult a doctor whose only advice was to let nature take its course. In desperation, Father went to an herbalist who prescribed a powder for diarrhea and a diet of rice and dried persimmons. This proved effective. It must have been near the Chinese New Year for I still recall the taste of preserved duck and salted duck eggs imported from China at that time of the year, which Mother served me with rice. When next I was hurting with a swollen gland in my right groin, Mother summoned a Chinese "doctor", who poured kerosene over it as it broke and drained.
154
Ah Wun, Ah Hoy, and Ah Seu, the latter two being our daily playmates. A cluster of Chinese homes bordered a large empty area behind our duplex and there Mother became acquainted with the Leong Chew's, the Chun Loy's and the Goo Dow's. For Mother, preparation to go to a friend's or to a party or to a Chinese opera meant getting gifts ready for the friend, dressing herself and us children in fine clothes, and hiring a hack to drive us there. An air of anticipation and excitement would prevail. Although we did not live far from the Red Light District in Iwilei, we had to commute by hack to visit a friend there.
Mother knew instinctively how to take care of us when we became ill. I was not a robust child. I do not recall ever being seen by a doctor when I was growing up. Father would describe our symptoms to a herbalist, who would then select certain herbs to be brewed as a drink. for our ailments. I always resisted these concoctions, a conglomerate of twigs, leaves, seeds and, at times, even earthworms and cockroaches. In spite of much coaxing and scolding, I would continue to resist until someone would finally hold my nose while another would pour the brew into my mouth, thus forcing me to swallow. This often resulted in some vomiting, much to the annoyance of Mother, who, nevertheless, would reward me with one or two black dates that accompanied each dose of medicine. Before her conversion to Christianity, she also had superstitious practices as part of the cure. She would start a charcoal fire in a brazier, sprinkle some alum # over it, and then swing me back and forth over the smoldering heat, pulling my ears one at a time and chanting over and over, "Me Big not afraid! Little Pig afraid"
ff. She believed that this chant would send the evil spirit causing my illness to a pig. It worked!
When I was about four, I became very ill with diarrhea, discharging so much blood that I was unable to walk from weakness. Mother asked Father to consult a doctor whose only advice was to let nature take its course. In desperation, Father went to an herbalist who prescribed a powder for diarrhea and a diet of rice and dried persimmons. This proved effective. It must have been near the Chinese New Year for I still recall the taste of preserved duck and salted duck eggs imported from China at that time of the year, which Mother served me with rice. When next I was hurting with a swollen gland in my right groin, Mother summoned a Chinese "doctor", who poured kerosene over it as it broke and drained.
:
į
No comments yet.
Private notes are available after approval.