MyStory

I lived in 30A Upper Weld Road since birth for 14 years. It is a 1926 pre-war end terrace unit. I wish to share a rather traumatic experience when I was about 7 or 8. I suffered from skin boils, mostly on my face. I remember my mother bringing me to a government dispensary near Short Street for some pinkish wash liquid. It didn't work. Mother then bought some fresh cockles, tore one out and sliced it slightly down its middle. Opening both halves, she pasted it over a boil before securing it with some elastoplast tape. I learnt later in life that it was based on the folk medical princple about employing poison to counteract poison. You see, cockles are considered 'toxic' in the yin and yang of food - and since my skin boils indicated a toxic internal system, the cockles should be a perfect cure to 'suck' the poison out of my boil. It didn't work. So, Mother went behind the kitchen door, pulled out a green waxed paper umbrella, opened it promptly and deftly pinched an escaping cockroach. She skewered it with a satay stick and barbequed that yukky thing over the stove fire until she heard a pop. It signalled the bursting of it's belly. She gave its abdomen a squeeze to release some translucent entrails - which she promptly pasted over my boil. It didn't work. Next, Mother bought a few pieces of dried 'hai leng hai beh' (sea-dragons and sea-horses) to make a stew with a piece of lean pork. By that time I couldn't recall if it worked or not - but I survived - thank God. I also remember I once cut my finger while crafting potatoes for art printing. Mother hurried to the kitchen, swiped a finger full of cobweb from under the stove platform and held it firmly against the wound. It didn't work. It was also from this place, behind a stack of firewood, that Mother found 5 velvet pink baby mice. One of them, wrapped in lettuce, was swallowed by my aunt, washed down with a glass of liqueur. It was supposed to enhance one's constituency. I don't know whether it worked or not. All I can say is that today she is 78, have 3 children, 4 grandchildren, and has outlived her husband. Folk medicine - to borrow a saying about superstitions - one should give it the benefit of doubt. As for me, it is 50% doubt, 50% trauma. Yet 100% mother's love.

Article migrated from original My Story Portal 2007.
Author. Aredialwise