Our Family House

Our family house back then (in the 1950's and 1960's) was a bit more comfortable than that of the neighbours'. My grandfather has many rubber smallholdings and he has many workers tapping the rubber trees. One can safely say that he is "the" rich man in my kampung.

The house was on stilts but they (the stilts) were hardwood. Its roof was made of brick-clay. It has no ceiling so it's airy and properly ventilated. Typical of the Malay house at that time, other than the normal doors, it also has one "pintu maling" (that's the way the word was pronounced) and one full door which leads to no staircase. Now, for the latter, it was the favourite place for my father to take his nap. I suppose the cool breeze provides comfort for his siesta.

"Pintu maling" on the other hand was more like a window. I don't know its function or purpose but usually my mother used to look out of the "pintu" when she was free from the household chores and sometimes throw our food for the chicken through it. One interesting point is, is the word "maling" has the same meaning with the Indonesian one which means "a thief". If it is, then the said "pintu" is named allegorically as presumably the "inlet" for the "malings". How sensitive are the Malays of old to the "needs" of their friends - thieves included.

Outside the house there was the "lambor", a platform of about 10'x20' before the "tangga" (stairs). In the case of our house, the stairs were actually a few platforms narrower than the "lambor" built at descending order in terms of their heights so that we can go up or down easily.

The outhouse was - well as the word implies - outside the house and located at a 'safe" distance. That was the tricky part for me and my siblings when our belly were not properly emptied before sunsets. With only the "pelita" in our hands, and with the night breezes threaten to extinguish the flickering "pelita" flame, the journey to and from the outhouse was - to us kids - so to speak challenging. All the stories about ghosts and their ghoulish relations do not help either. And this was where siblings came handy, provided one is in their good books.

Contrary to my (and our) present-day houses, our family house was never locked although the door was usually kept closed if no one was around. Come to think of it, with the "pintu maling" available, why was the need to lock the (main) doors, right?