Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Headline: I turned from boy to man

CIRCUMCISION is a rite of passage for boys in the kampung. DR ZULHISHAM GHAZALI recalls the day he faced the Tok Mudin. IT was November 1972, exactly 37 years ago during the year-end school holidays. Our father came home one day and told us we would be going back to our hometown the next day, and with that I began my journey to becoming a man. I had always loved going back to the kampung to meet our grandmother, Tok Chah, and the cousins. We could play amongst the rubber trees and help our aunt, Mak Andak, tap rubber, or go to our grandmother's padi field. We could climb manggis (mangosteen) trees and swim in the tandop (water locks). There were so many things to do.

But this time, our father also had something planned for me. We took a taxi from our Taiping home the next day for Kg Bujang. The first night in Kg Bujang, mother told me. "Lusa hang masuk jawi tau! (You are going to be circumcised the day after next)." I nodded in agreement. I often heard stories about how people masuk jawi but I didn't know what it was all about. "Bapak! Masuk jawi tu lagu mana bapak? (Dad, how were you circumcised?)" I asked father. "When you masuk jawi that means becoming a big person... we Muslims must masuk jawi," he said. "Depa buat lagu mana bapak?Ada kawan cek kata depa kerat kote kita.Ya ka bapak?" (How do they do it, father? My friend said that they cut our penis. Is it true, father?) "Nah... the Tok Mudin will just cut a bit of skin of the front of your penis," father reassured me. "Does it hurt?" "Just a bit. Just for a while... then everything will be fine." I nodded slowly. But in my mind, all sorts of thoughts went racing by. They were going to cut it? A lot of it or just a bit? What would they use? A knife? Parang? Scissors? I started feeling a bit scared. What if I cried and embarrassed myself in front of the kampung folk? My uncle Pak Tam smiled at me, displaying a row of white teeth against his dark skin. Pak Tam was a soldier, just like my father. He had just come back from serving in the Congo. "You are in for it Sham," he said with a smirk. "I'm going to ask the Tok Mudin to cut the whole thing off and throw it to the chickens to be eaten," he said. "I'm not scared Pak Tam," I retorted. "My friend already masuk jawi and he said they don't cut the whole thing off... you are trying to scare me, aren't you?" Pak Tam let out a huge guffaw, slapping his thighs. My other older relatives burst out laughing as well.

Later, my aunt, Mak Cik Jah, and uncle Hashim arrived from Alor Star, my two cousins in tow. Grandfather's house became noisier with children playing all over the yard. On the third day, mother woke me up early in the morning. Father, Pak Tam and Uncle Hashim were having coffee and kuih. They asked me to take a bath at the well outside. It was bone-chillingly cold. At 8am, Tok Chah's entourage stepped out. All the girls were left behind. We headed to the house of Tok Ngah Arop, Tok Chah's brother. The ceremony would be held there because three of his grandsons would be circumcised. There were a lot of people there. There were three sheds with wooden floors to serve food to the visitors. It would also be used for the berzanji and marhaban readings. Beside the house was the gedohoak (cooking tent) and I saw rubber wood fires burning. White rice was being cooked and I saw villagers cutting up beef and mutton for the kenduri. The khatan ceremony was often as grand as a wedding ceremony. The women would be in the kitchen sorting out the cakes given by the neighbours. The whole place smelled of home-brewed coffee made from freshly roasted coffee beans. I was carried up to the house. We gathered in the living room.

There were two banana trunks placed there. In the background were five mats for us to lie down on after the ceremony. Above them were five rafia string hanging from the ceiling. This was where we would be staying for the next two to three days. As we entered the house, two old timers sitting there had to have their say. "You guys are in for it. The Tok Mudin is coming with his axe to cut off your little birdies," one said. "No... actually not an axe, he'll be using a wood saw," said the other. The whole house erupted in laughter. We five skinny boys turned pale. We were on the verge of tears. For an hour there was some tension. Then we heard cries from the compound. "The Tok Mudin has arrived... the Tok Mudin has arrived. Let's catch whoever has not been circumcised and circumcise them together with the five." The children who had been making a ruckus in the yard scattered. We saw the figure of the Tok Mudin from where we sat. He was a tall man with a big moustache He wore a kain pelikat with a green money belt, the kind pilgrims use when they go for the haj. He had on a tall songkok and a blazer and walked like a Panglima Perang. Behind him was a younger man carrying a bag filled with the tools of his trade. As he stepped into the living room, the five of us cowered. "So who's going first?" asked the Tok Mudin. There was silence. Then Tok Ngah Arop said, "Bani will go first, then Sham. "OK. Bani come here. Come and sit on this banana trunk. The others turned and looked the other way. All of us hoped that Bani wouldn't scream. "Sham, it's your turn now," said Pak Tam. I thought to myself. How could it be so fast? I didn't even hear Bani cry out. "Sit on the trunk," said the Tok Mudin. Pak Tam held me from behind and asked me to look up. Pak Tam asked me to read a prayer and he whispered a prayer in my ear. "What standard are you in?" "Standard Four, Tok," my voice trembled. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain. Pak Tam tightened his grip on me. "Bear with it. It's almost done," said Pak Tam. "It's done. Carry him to the sleeping place," said Tok Mudin. It was over in two minutes. Bani was smiling as I was laid down next to him, his kain pelikat suspended like a tent with the string from the ceiling. When all five had been circumcised, the Tok Mudin took his leave. There were other kids to be circumcised in the next village. The five of us were starting to feel the pain. Our penises were wrapped in a bandage known as a kundang, which was a gauze of coffee powder, spices and honey. The worst part was taking off the bandage.

For a week, warm water was dripped on the bandage to loosen it. It finally came off on the 10th day. I was happy it was all over. I couldn't wait to start Standard Five with my new status as a "grown up". In my 15 years of working as a general practitioner, I have circumcised 500 to 600 boys. Today, it is rare to find parents organising elaborate ceremonies like in my childhood.

Source : NST

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Lain Orang Lain caranya..

Salam Sejahtera,

Sedar tak sedar sudah masuk bulan April 2011. Ternyata masa berlalu begitu pantas sekali.Oh yer, sekadar berkongsi, saya baru sahaja pulang dari Jogjakarta, Indonesia. Sebenarnya saya pergi melancong bersama rakan-rakan. Semasa dalam perjalanan saya ke Solo, saya ternampak beberapa papan tanda bertulis " Juru Supit Bogem". Mungkin ramai yang tak tahu. Sebenarnya ini adalah panggilan kepada Tok Mudim di Jogja.

Masyarakat Jawa masih lagi berpegang teguh kepada tradisi lama. Perkhidmatan Bong supit masih relevan. Ada ibubapa yang masih mahu anaknya dikhatankan secara tradisional. Saya tak berkesempatan menemuramah juru supit ini atas faktor masa.Cuma sempat melihat beberapa alat khatan ( atau khitan) di muzium Keraton. Jogja. Berkhatan di Indonesia, dasarnya masih sama. Cuma, kaedah lama di sini tidak menggunakan batang pisang, sebaliknya kanak-kanak akan dipangku oleh bapanya semasa proses berkhatan.

Jelas disini, bahawa kaedah berkhatan sebenarnya berbeza mengikut tempatnya. Ada tempat menggunakan batang pisang, ada pula tidak. Setiap tok mudim pun ada caranya tersendiri. Sepanjang kajian, saya sudah bertemu dengan dua orang tok mudim. Ternyata setiap antara mereka ada cara tersendiri. Ada tok mudim yang mengkehendaki kanak-kanak telanjang semasa proses berkhatan, ada pula hanya memakai kain pelikat. Ada juga tok mudim menggunakan cecair bius khas, ada pula yang menggunakan air jampi. Saya pernah mendengar cerita seorang kawan, yang mana beliau dikhatankan di atas tin minyak masak ( dulu kan minyak masak dalam tin). Tok Mudim yang mengkhatankan beliau tidak menggunakan sebarang bius, tetapi menggunakan bacaan tertentu ketika proses berkhatan. Ujar beliau, memang sakit, tetapi sakitnya hanya sekejap. Proses penyembuhan tak sampai pun 10 hari.

Jelas, lain tempat lain caranya. Inilah menjadikan budaya dan adat berkhatan unik sekali. Ada pandangan luar mengatakan bahawa mengkhatankan kanak-kanak adalah penderaan. Tetapi hakikatnya ia bukanlah begitu. Ini kerana budaya berkhatan sebenarnya sudah sebati dalam masyarakat kita. Berkhatan secara tradisional asasnya menjadikan kanak-kanak lebih berani menghadapi ujian pertama mereka, sebelum mereka melangkah ke alam yang lebih mencabar yakni alam dewasa.

Kesimpulannya, masih terlalu banyak lagi perkara yang saya perlu terokai. Saya amat mengalu-alukan kepada para pembaca yang mempunyai pengalaman berkhatan ( terutama dengan Tok Mudim) boleh berkongsi dengan saya. Insyallah, perkongsian ini akan menjadi permulaan bagi kita mengekalkan budaya tradisi turun temurun ini.