How Food Poisonings Happen

So over the weekend, I was in my baju kurung, which thankfully was not one of the more beautiful ones that I own, seated on the grass outside my aunt’s house, by the drain with a sponge on one hand, a dirty plate on the other. It was the hot afternoon, my hair was sticking to the side of my face from sweat. The skirt of my baju kurung was hiked up to my knees, looking very unladylike but I did not care.

My brother was on hose duty and he sprayed the plastic plates that were handed his way by the way of a plastic tub filled with soapy water.

‘This is not hygienic,’ he moaned to my aunt. ‘We should have hot water.’

‘The sun is above you. The water below you. The water will get hot….eventually,’ my aunt smirked.

This was my weekend. In the morning I was attending my cousin’s engagement. By the afternoon a bunch of us were relegated to dishwashing duty because the original caterer that my cousin’s family had hired bailed out on them. In the end, they hired a caterer at the last minute who could only give food but no service.

Usually the caterers would take the dirty plates and wash them for the next batch of guests. Well, without a caterer, the alternative would be paper plates. Which all things considered, is not that bad an idea looking back.

As I scrapped off rice of the dish, trying not to gag, I say a silent prayer and focused all my energy to hoping horrible things will happen to the first caterer. I do this often, especially when a jackass cuts in front of me when I drive without signalling. I usually pray for his penis to fall off, or his kids to fail SPM.

So should you know anyone whose penis fell off, it’s probably he was a rude bastard on the road. Or he bailed out on someone’s wedding.

To be honest though, despite my moaning, and despite how dry my hands will be from using dish detergent on my bare hands, I was enjoying this. I love the camaraderie shared between me and my cousins, I loved that this harked back to the good old days where people used to gotong-royong (worked together) for weddings, where everyone had a part to play, be it cooking, decorating, cleaning up. It felt good to be working with your hands, and that in this assembly line of dish washing, we were all equals. And there is something very calming about working with your hands, the repetitive action of scrubbing and then rinsing and then drying.

‘Ooops!’ said my cousin as she dropped a plastic glass into the drain. We exchanged glances with each other. I think about the number of weddings I’ve attended, with the same plastic plates, a no-show caterer and road-side washing of the plates.

‘I suppose if you scrub it extra hard…’ I begin to say.

‘I’m never eating at weddings again,’ my brother moaned. ‘This is exactly how food poisonings happen.’

The Bigger Picture

One of the questions I get asked almost frequently now is “How do you feel?”. I think people expect some sort of trepidation on my part, it’s only fun being nervous.

But surprisingly, I am really calm. I’ve been warned that the night is the most difficult to sleep through but I think “All Izz Well”

I did get all stressed out this morning though, I can’t say it was all perfect until a friend of mine pointed out that the focus that I should have is that I’m getting married. Not on the flaws, not on the tiny details, whether things were as I imagined. The guests won’t remember the mistakes, they will remember you, the bride and groom.

And it’s true. I’m marrying Eizwan tomorrow, someone who I lover very deeply, and someone who has made me very happy. I will be surrounded by my friends and family, the people I love as this happen. Whatever happens to the flowers, the food etc, that’s secondary. The bigger picture is that I’ll be married to Eizwan. If things don’t go as planned, I plan on just shrugging it off.

Martha Stewart was wrong. Details don’t matter. In the case of weddings, it’s the big picture that counts.

The Sappy Wedding Entry

So, I attended a wedding yesterday, one of the two weddings that I will attend before my own (!!) and had a lot of fun. The number of weddings I’ve attended over the years have dwindled somewhat – most of my friends are now married with kids and their life is all about chasing little versions of themselves – so I’m trying to do the mature thing and enjoy the remaining weddings that I’ve left.

I’m a little surprised at myself for feeling a little sad that the number of weddings I would attend would dwindle. I used to spend a lot of time being sarky at weddings, after all I was (and probably still am) a wannabe emo-novelist but I found that as I approach my own wedding date, I embarrass myself by being a lot more emotional these days at weddings. Yes, so I teared up at Edwin McCain’s “I Couldn’t Ask for More” as I held Eizwan’s hand. And everyone at the table probably felt a tad nauseated by our public display of affection – but hey, just give me this once. I’ll be back to normal at end June.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a perfect wedding. Everyone has a different idea on what makes a dream wedding, be it the dress by a particular designer, the most expensive decor, the food etc. Yesterday, was certainly one of the best weddings I’ve attended by far. Not that this entry is to review the wedding, I think it’s silly to review weddings – it’s not an event that requires assessments me think, there shouldn’t be a report card to a wedding but I could not help think that there are some weddings that are more special than others.

Stephanie and Adrian’s wedding certainly came across that way for me. From the silly MC speeches, to the jokey and meaningful speech by the bride’s father and the especially touching speech by the bride and groom themselves, I found myself frequently tearing up. If I look back to the myriads of weddings I’ve attended, I rarely remember the details like the favours, the cards, the flowers. Well, that’s not true. I remember almost every detail of everyone’s wedding – but that’s because I’m an odd duck with an almost photographic memory, so it’s not quite intentional.

Ahem.

What I mean to say is that, it’s true, every wedding has something special about it. Every wedding has a beautiful detail, a little something special about it that I’ll probably never forget. But my fondest memories are never reserved for the most beautiful weddings, the most extravagant or the most detailed. It tends to be reserved for the couple with the most sincere and relaxed atmosphere. Yesterday, at the risk of sounding hokey, you could feel the love and warmth radiating from the family and couple, and from the well-wishers in the room. There were so many smiles, so much feeling that you don’t notice the details like the flowers, the dress, the absentminded waiters – the details that Martha Stewart say should count. Because honestly, they don’t.

I think, at the end of the day, that is my fondest wish for my own wedding. That people come with much love and happiness. It’s sappy, but nothing beats your friends and family being with you, and sharing in the joy for your wedding and wishing you the best, sincerely from the heart.

Man do I sound hokey. Mid-June, people. Mid-June. It’ll be back to bitching about everything else.

But congratulations Stephanie and Adrian! May you be blessed with happiness, joy and lots of love for the rest of your lives together.