Monthly Archives: May 2020

Asked a child today: “What is a candle?”. He or she will tell you: “Oh those tiny colourful stick that we dip into a birthday cake and blow”. To me, a candle is a 9 inch long, 1 inch in diameter white wax stick with a wick embedded through the length of its centre. We used it for illumination as its original purpose was thousands of years BC. “Don’t you have electricity?” the child may ask. Well we did. But electricity was not continuous, every couple of days we had a blackout. And blackout meant complete darkness throughout the neighbourhood, if not the whole town, and the bright moon became instantly our best friend, especially on a clear night. I did not know if the city electrical grid failed or there were just not enough power for distribution. A dark night was a scary moment for us kids, but also a blessing in disguise as we could lay down our book and had a break.

Children found enormous pleasure running their index finger to-and-fro through the flickering flame of the candle, and magically experienced no pain nor burn, but our hands occasionally got scalded from the hot dripping wax. There were candle holders to keep the candle up and safe, but most households could not afford that luxury. Instead, we dripped some melting wax in the middle of a small plate and pressed the candle’s end into the wax. When the wax set, the candle stood tall and straight.

As the youngest boy in the family, I always acted as a chaperon to my sisters when they needed to use the toilet at night. Visiting toilet at night was a scary experience because the toilet was located away from our abode and had no lighting. We had to light a candle. While inside the toilet, we took the opportunity to roll small sheet of paper into the shape of a cigarette which we smoked, playing adults, all decent kids enjoyed this game. I think the puff tasted or smelled like burned toast.

Blackout was a perfect time to tell ghost stories. “Once upon a time a young boy got lost, and in the attempt to find his home, he walked through a cemetery under a bright moon partly shrouded by clouds… he heard the cry of a wolf  from afar, suddenly a ghost jumped out of the tomb….”. At that point panic struck, we sprang from our seat and clung into one another, amidst our own loud shrieks. When the power came back, we all sighed with relief.

The locals bought from our boutique candles to offer to the bereaved families at a funeral. I remember when I was around 6 or 7 years old, a neighbour died. That night, his body was placed on a wooden board laid over two benches, in the courtyard in front of his home, kept company by the swaying flames of candles. Relatives as well as neighbours came to pay their last respect, all sitting in small group around the corpse, chatting or playing cards. I noticed that the two toes of the deceased were tied together with a piece of rope, upon enquiry I understood it was to keep the body in a respectable position.

Our boutique also sold candles to religious worshippers when they attended Church. Candles came in a pack of 10 candles or so, wrapped in a strange bluish colour paper, but we could only sell one candle at a time because of its prohibitive cost. On religious days, Churches were packed with people, young and old, men and women, and the altar encircled by a sea of bright lights from the candles. A mystical and peaceful impression. For safety reason, candles are now not allowed in most Churches, a colourful tradition lost forever. The Chinese had a similar tradition, lighting candles and joss sticks in the temples, except the candle was always red in colour, with a bamboo stick protruding from the bottom, which dropped conveniently in candle stand slots.

Many of our neighbours did not have electricity and not much could be accomplished in the dark except to retire early. Some families used candle for light but most used oil lamp as a cheaper alternative. The oil lamp was basic, simply placing a wick in a small circular clay or metal bowl filled with oil. The wick drew the oil and burned, occasionally the wick needed to be advanced by hand, to keep it above the oil level. Or the more sophisticated version, consisting of a brass base containing oil and a glass funnel over the wick to prevent fire accident and to protect the flame from draft.

In the developed world today, candles are used mainly for their aesthetic value and scent, particularly to set a soft, warm, or romantic ambiance, and to a lesser extent for emergency lighting during electrical power failures, and for religious or ritual purposes. Candle now comes in all size, shape and colour, a big contrast to my “la bougie”.

Although this sister was third in line, she was the most senior among the siblings while growing up in Mauritius. The first child died at birth and the second sister was left in China with grandmother.

I was around 4 years old when she got married. Her husband was from a relatively rich family who owned the popular Magasin Boulet Rouge on Route Royale, Port Louis. At the time most, if not all, marriages were arranged through a matchmaker because it was almost impossible for Chinese girls to meet boys. Secondary schools were boys only or girls only and Chinese girls rarely worked outside home, so little opportunity for them to socialize. They stayed home and waited to get married. Girls married before they turned 20, else they were considered past age, and it became harder to find an ideal husband. Because there were many girls in our family clan, I could not help hearing frequent gossips about girl things, and who and who eligible bachelors in town. Girls were not at liberty to choose their lifemate, the approval of the parents and sometimes the blessing of the aunties, was necessary to tie the knot. Our family was blessed as the girls were born pretty and finding a suitable husband for them was not too difficult an endeavour.

This brother-in-law had an English name, Richard, an anomaly at the time. The older Chinese generation did not have an English name. An English name was given only when the person baptized into the western faith. Richard was an Anglican and my sister had to convert to his faith before she could enter and receive the nuptial blessing in the church.

My brother-in-law was a “Nationalist” whereas our family was “Communist”, but this did not cause a rift in the matrimony. We got along just fine. Ironically, my brother-in-law’s house was on Dr. Joseph Riviere Street, opposite the Sin Wah Chinese Communist School, a sort of an eyesore. The Communists celebrated their national day on October 1 and the Nationalists on October 10. Tensions tended to flare up on these two National days between the two camps. I remember my brother-in-law on one October 1 celebration, tense and agitated, holding a rifle, threatening to shoot at the marchers from his balcony.

Magasin Boulet Rouge, a partnership between my brother-in-law’s family and his cousin’s family, was doing brisk business, selling superior household items such as kitchen utensils, toys, shoes, decorative items, watches and pens. On Christmas day, Boulet Rouge was packed with customers, and on a couple of occasions, I was posted at the door to keep a watch on potential shoplifters. Every year, my brother-in-law went to China to attend the Canton Trade Fair which exhibited a wide range of products that China produced. There was no direct flight to China then, and he had to transit in Hong Kong.

My parents liked this brother-in-law very much, as they did to all my other brother-in-law. Once a week, my brother-in-law, my sister and their small son, came to our home after dinner, to replenish their provisions.  While my brother-in-law got entangled in a lively, loud and jovial conversation with my mother, my sister and I sneaked in our boutique to pick, weigh and pack the items from her provisions list: rice, sugar, salt, tea, cooking oil, kerosene, alcohol and spices. Quite often, my sister signaled me to be easy on the quantity as I weighed the product, to enable our boutique to make a little more profit. My sister’s son was around 3 years old, a lively, talkative infant. While modest kids like myself were devoid of attention, this flamboyant nephew, like other offspring of well-off families, was a spoilt brat but adored. He got all the attention and got everything he wished for. One time he played a trick and hide himself, sending the whole household into a panic.

My brother-in-law was always generous to our family, bringing goodies to us on Chinese festive days, such as New Year, Mid-Autumn festival and Christmas. The most appreciated bite was the juicy delicious crispy roasted pork belly and barbecue pork buns from the famous Cantonese restaurant “Lai Min” situated on Royale Road. Lai Min is still here alive and kicking. My brother-in-law wore “Dormeuil” woolen pants in winter, a luxury at the time. While the fabric around the seat wore off, the fabric covering the legs stayed decent, which the local tailor used to make me a pair of short pants. I felt proud wearing them for a couple of years. When I left for Hong Kong in 1966, my brother-in-law gave me a watch, I think it was an Enicar, which I had cherished for many years.

The greatest pleasure this brother-in-law brought us as kids was that on many Sundays when our shop closed, he drove us to the beaches, four adults and eight kids sardined in his Austin Morris. The favourite beach was Mont Choisy, with its great open space, lush filao trees, fine white sand, calm lagoon, bright sun and warm breeze. We also spent time at Cape Malheureux and Grand Baie, just to the north. Once, he took us to a hotel at Pointes aux Sables, where siting under a large parasol in the hotel patio, we were served ice cream in a glass cup which we scooped with a small spoon, an unforgettable treat. We also spent many happy and playful weekends at Baie-du-Tombeau, where my brother-in-law owned a “campement”, a local term for summer home by the beach. I also remember him fondly for spearheading my transfer to a new school to escape from a bully at my first school, and orchestrating the hospitalization, surgery and recovery of my dad when he was taken seriously sick.

We are eternally grateful to this brother-in-law who cared so much for our family, he had a good heart and was unconditionally ready to help us at every turn. He sprinkled lot of colours into our juvenile life.