MARBLES and tadpoles. How I’ve missed these two things while growing up in Gelugor.
Well, you know where Gelugor is — this suburb of George Town lies along the eastern seaboard of Penang Island, between Jelutong and Sungai Dua. It’s named after a plant species, Garcinia atroviridis, or asam gelugor in Malay, which is cultivated on the island for its medicinal properties.
But playing marbles and catching tadpoles will remain as my fondest childhood memories back in the 1980s. Ahh... those shiny and multicoloured marbles I kept in several glass jars adorning the cabinet in the hallway. A showcase of my wins in many hard-fought battles! Looking back, playing marbles was probably the first competitive sport I got involved in.
And like a proud peacock, I would parade my huge collection of marbles to the neighbourhood kids. Those glass balls meant so much those days. They were valued as “currency” among friends and siblings.
To put my rolling stones to the test, it was imperative to find the perfect venue — a nice smooth, no-grass spot. This used to be located at a playground in Minden Heights, an adjacent residential neighbourhood. Named after the Minden Barracks established in the area by the British Army in 1939, the barracks have since been subsumed as part of Universiti Sains Malaysia.
For your information, I was a champ, the reigning Queen of Marbles in Gelugor, so to speak. Another name I was referred to was “Hizreen of the Golden Flicker”. I remember being quite the hustler, cracking my knuckles and flicking my shooter marble out of my fist with my thumb, as I aimed at as many marbles I could out of the ring.
Yes, I aced at flicking a marble with just the right force and even managed a side spin for it to go in the direction I wanted. Of course, hitting a marble at a certain angle, with a certain velocity took a lot of practice.
Even deciding on the best position on the circle could be an ordeal for a juvenile.
Taking pride in the fact that even Plato and Socrates shared my interest in playing marbles, this centuries-old game helped kill my boredom and boost my attention span.
In short, it kept me hunkered in the dirt and out of trouble. My mum was fine with it. I was on a roll and kids, especially boys, were envious and probably a little pensive having me in their marble battles, for fear that I’d be taking home everything except their empty marble bags.
Oh well, I don’t blame them for fearing my existence and idolising the ground I walk on. But it’s tough love being at the top!
Together with neighbouring kids, we would play marbles for hours until our mothers screamed our names a few minutes before maghrib, indicating it was time to head home.
Looking back, playing marbles introduced me to basic physics and geometry, only that at the time, I didn’t know it. It was a dirt cheap activity to begin with and the rules were simple. But the best part was when you get to keep the marbles that you shoot out of the ring. That is how my marble collection grew.
And when I got hungry, Astaka Taman Tun Sardon was just 100m from my home. I was spoilt for choice. This breakfast spot served a variety of authentic Malay food and motivated me to rise early every morning. An affordable local spread from roti canai, nasi lemak, fried kuey teow and mee hoon, soto, nasi lemuni, peknga kari ikan (peknga is a pancake made from grated fresh coconut, wheat flour, coconut juice and freshly squeezed coconut milk), right up to the popular tasty and fluffy serabai, a sweet dish only found at this market-cum-eatery.
Serabai is a Malay traditional pancake made from rice flour and served with a thick gravy made of palm sugar. The downside is the need to be in a queue to get a taste of it, especially since it is a hit among non-Penangite food lovers.
Other than my marble-esque moniker, I was also known as “The Great Tadpole Mistress”. The drains near Taman Tun Sardon market (named in honour of Sardon Jubir, a Johor-born politician who served as the governor of Penang between 1975 and 1981) became a hot haunt to catch tadpoles.
And since Gelugor did not have any river and creeks, or small lakes and ponds, the drains would have to do. The area surrounding the drains can be slippery with moss buildup on the walkways. I almost lost my balance several times. My pride was at stake.
Since tadpoles swim near the water surface, catching them was a breeze. I once caught nine tadpoles in a single scoop. I never knew that I had a special talent for scooping. After I scooped them up, I would transfer them into a small plastic pail. Sometimes, I would hold them in the palm of my hand for a bit (it’s therapeutic) and discuss with the gang how they would grow into frogs.
I raised tadpoles as pets. They say you can’t keep too many and so I took only two home with me and released the rest.
I had a small glass tank at home where I added in rain water, protruding rocks (which I took from my mother’s garden) for the maturing baby frogs to crawl out of the water, and small water plants I bought from the pet shop.
I fed them algae, lettuce, broccoli or baby spinach. It was fascinating to watch the amazing transformation of tiny tadpoles into jumping amphibians with lungs and four legs.
The process takes about three months or so. And witnessing it was the most exciting thing ever, it beats watching television anytime! A great way to learn about the natural world.
And once the tadpoles lost their tails, I knew it was time to release them into the garden, with hopes that they don’t catch the attention of any feline roaming around.
Come to think of it, kids in the 1980s were always breaking a sweat engaging in outdoor activities, a far cry from children nowadays who are too occupied with gadgets and smartphones.
It would be nice to see kids playing in the dirt again because I’m all for a return to the basics.