Like A Duck Out Of Water

During the last Royal Wedding I was fortunate to attend my first ‘Berjaga-Jaga Ceremony’. The Berjaga-Jaga is a nightly vigil held at Istana Nurul Iman to enliven the wedding proceedings. I reckon the tradition started in the old days when people had an important function, family and friends rallied around and hung out at the house just in case your rivals decide to cause trouble.

After the Royal Wedding Dinner on Monday evening, Babu and Pater suggested to Bobby and I that we go to the ‘Berjaga’.

Having dinner with the masses.

The invitation to a nightly vigil.

The ceremony is held in a large room at the Palace. The men have their room and the women have theirs. The dress code is traditional white costume with a ‘kapit’ (which is a Jong Sarat, a cloth hand-woven with gold thread, you wrap in a particular way around your torso). I have not mastered the act of wrapping the ‘kapit’ and therefore invariably look like I am wearing an OTT bath towel. To be fair to me, it is trickier than it looks.

The Berjaga-Jaga Ceremony.

The ladies all troop into their room and find their place in the grand scheme of things. As I have not been before, Babu introduces me to the lady that DOES know where everyone’s place is. So the kind lady shows me (she even has a notebook!) where I can sit, which incidentally is somewhere in Siberia.

I watched the proceedings that evening from my corner of the room with some trepidation and, if truth be known, amusement. There are rules to be followed, and one can easily commit a faux pax, like drinking the tea from the ceremonial teapot that are served by the ladies on duty. An elderly lady who looked like she knew the ins and outs sat next to me and I made small talk. So she told me about the long white candles placed in front of the middle row ladies, how to make sure you get your box of goodies and candle at the end of the evening, and when I said, “you cannot drink the tea”, she was suitably impressed. I was not a complete duck out of water. Thankfully Bobby had whispered to me before we parted ways, “Don't drink the tea!”

The tea in the ceremonial teapots is a no-no!

Ladies on duty bearing trays with tea you CAN drink and boxes of goodies to bring home.

We had some tea and then head home.

There was one other occasion when I was like a duck out of water. It was the time Babs and I went to Jing Chew to score us some hot buns. I have been living in this country my whole life and I have only just found out that at certain times of the day people line up to buy delicious hot buns fresh out of the oven (or eat them at the premises) at a Chinese shop in Gadong called Jing Chew. Sure I have heard, and even had some, of Jing Chew’s famous heavenly “Roti Kuning”. Roti Kuning is a kind of yellow bread with seriously thick slabs of butter and coconut jam in its middle, which is then toasted. Jing Chew is a real institution. It is favoured by civil servants who patrons the place to have their tea breaks in the mornings and afternoons. I should say 'used to' patron the place for the Government have cracked down on errant civil servants who spend way too much time out of the office hanging out in Jing Chew.

Anyway, Babs heard about the fresh hot buns at teatime so we made a date to go one afternoon. When we walked into the place it was full of people, young and old, all kinds of colour and creed, happily munching buns. We found a seat and beckoned the Indian waiter over to take our orders. We asked for a menu, you know, to find out what kind of buns were available for consumption, and the waiter looked at us like we both had antennas growing out of our heads, and simply walked away. Apparently, one doesn’t need a menu. You just raise your hand and say “Buns” and the good waiter will bring you a plate of buns: black bean paste, nut paste and butter milk paste. Right on.

As we waited for our plate of hot buns the place was clearing out fast. A waiter finally brought around a plate of buns and we discovered that it was the last plate of buns and was already cold because it was from the 4.30pm oven. Being hot bun virgins, we did not get the memo about coming to Jing Chew ON TIME in order to get the buns straight out of the oven. So we ordered the Roti Kuning instead. We cajoled the by now exasperated waiter to spill the beans about the mechanics of Jing Chew’s hot buns at teatime. The good man told us the approximate times buns came out of the oven and even gave us a card with a number so we can call ahead.

We also scored a Jing Chew card.

And now, I am sorted like Bob.

Comments

[EmmaGoodEgg]

Hey there Jewelle :) The Jing Chew carbs are buns and not pau xx

[Jewelle]

Hmm, we know about the roti kuning but not the buns (since we're not bandar folks) ...so is it buns or pau?

[EmmaGoodEgg]

Hello darling, I'll let you know about the tea when you're back. But the candles that are handed to you on your way out, in the old days I think its used to light your way home. The lit candles in the room are perhaps to represent the women who are there. Your Abang said pretty much the same happens in the mens area. See you soon!! xx

[Widarchitect]

Great post. I've been to Jing Chew once.. felt totally out of place and didn't know what to do with myself.

Oh and did the lady tell you why you aren't supposed to drink the tea? and what did she tell you about the candles? surely all that fabric and lit candles called for serious fire hazard...

it looks like there aren't very many women in the room either.. was it a special room? what happened in the mens area?

sorry for the twenty questions.. i'm just curious :) xxw
p.s see you soon! woo!