3 Hari 2 Malam With a Budu Twist

For the past several years, it has been very hard for me to get everyone in the family to be available for a vacation together. And even though I grumble at this, I suppose it cannot be helped due to the different schedules everybody has. So nowadays, I have to be content with whoever happens to be having their holidays at the same time as I plan a getaway.

The most recent getaway would be, of course, the one we had throughout this week. It was a two-part 3 Hari 2 Malam vacation in firstly, Penang, and then in Kelantan. I seem to be going to these two places a lot these days. Maybe I should go to somewhere else instead, say oh, Sarawak? ;)))

Anyway, the ice-kacang seller whom I frequently pay a visit whenever I'm in Penang was so happy to see me being accompanied by Bea and my three available sons. "Wah, you have your family with you this time, Encik!" he said in the manner of a person who had just laid his eyes upon a business opportunity.

But this entry is not going to be on food. At least, not the gist of it, no. It's about how bad things happen to good people and then other people laugh at it because they think it's funny.

From Penang, we went back to my mother's place in Kelantan to deal with some urgent family matters. After spending another 3 Hari 2 Malam over there, we came back yesterday i.e. on Friday. On our way back, I decided to pop a visit to our little orchard somewhere in Jeli. It isn't a really big orchard, mind you, but still big enough for elephants and Orang Asli to come and help themselves to our fruits. I never knew there were that many Orang Asli people living in the depths of Jeli until I bought this orchard. And the same goes for elephants too.

Anyway, since we didn't take a satisfactory breakfast, we decided to have a very late lunch at the only eatery to be found in the vicinity of the 'fruit farm'. They served us rice, Soup and Gulai Ayam Kampung and glorious ulam with a big bowl of budu. Yes, budu. Since this was the real authentic Anchovy Sauce, Bea was already licking her lips at the mere sight of the budu bowl.

Mind you, we were eating in what was literally the middle of a jungle, thus it shouldn't have come as a surprise when one by one, we were attacked by pesky mosquitoes. Every minute or so, one of us would be making hand gestures as if we were shoo-ing away flies whereas in fact, it was mosquitoes.

Then, it happened.

A really big, vicious-looking mosquito with a proboscis so big I could have sworn it was the size of a baby's finger, came and landed on Bea's right arm. Bea, who was blissfully scooping budu onto her ulam which she creatively folded to form a miniature shovel, let out a small scream and asked for my assistance in getting rid of the blood-sucking menace.

Being the knight in shining armour, how could I ignore the sobbing pleas of my damsel in distress? So I got out my shining sword - hand, actually - and proceeded to what youngsters nowadays refer to as 'lay the smackdown' on that monstrosity of a creature.

Oh how cruel fate deals its blows to unsuspecting victims.

The moment my hand whacked that mosquito and sent him to meet his Maker, out of nowhere did a bowl of budu come leaping out right at me. And as if in slow-motion, I saw clearly how the dull grey, pungent liquid shot out of the bowl to come straight at my brand new, white-with-a-hint-of peach linen shirt; and how Bea's face distorted into one that of warning about imminent danger but funnily enough, with no sounds; and how my children gaped at the entire scene, just as I was.

When I finally came back to my senses, my white-with-a-hint-of-peach linen shirt had magically turned into a grey colour; Bea was crying from laughing too hard (and my God, can that woman laugh); and the rest of the diners seemed to be amazed at how we had managed to finish our bowl of budu so fast.

Now, you go picture the sight of Peachy-linen-wearing Pycno all drenched in BUDU!!

Of course after that, I had to go and change shirts by the roadside. To the motorists who happen to pass by me at that time, I'm sorry for the unsightly scene; it couldn't be helped.

P/S - I was just wondering what if, just what if, it was the other way around.......can I even dare to twinge my facial muscle to laugh at Budu-drenched Bea???

Ah, life is so unfair.