That Jess Ho

Today’s Mum Cha edition is one of mass proportions.  It should be re-puned to a way which says “Maternal Cha” or something like that (possibly the Wu-man files).  My grandmother and aunty from my mother’s side decided to join us.  My aunt (who I call sahm yee, cos she is the youngest of three sisters) flew in from HK to visit her sons who are finishing high school in Sydney, and decided to stop off.

Let me get this out in the open, I don’t like her, and I won’t pretend that I do.  I though that I would have matured since I last saw her a little over a decade ago, but in the end, as many chances as I can give her, I have concluded that it is all her.
She is the type of foo-foo and chi-chi Asian woman who is a lazy “trophy” wife, who is skill-less, aspriationless , living off her rich husband, dressing like a flocked and velour-coated jogger and plays mah-jong all the time.  Her incessant gossiping and literal finger pointing makes me want to snap it off and gnaw on it like chicken feet.

She sent her stupid, offensive sons here, which I refuse to acknowledge blood relations with, to study and calls me, “Too Aussie.”

WELL EXCUSE ME, YOU STUPID, HIDEOUS WHORE, I LIVE HERE, YOU’RE VISITNG, LEAVE!

She spoke about me as if I wasn’t there and then decided to insult my mother in front of me before she got there.  She obviously doesn’t understand the Wu (mother’s maiden name) tradition of allying with your sisters and reserving contempt to your mother as a collective.  She influences my grandmother, who is a naturally calm and sweet woman (who has the nickname of Sugar Water), to go against one of her daughters.
And as much as my mother and I grate on each other, no one insults us, but us.  It is our right, and we’ve built years of mechanisms to deal with it, and perfect ways to make each other’s esteems shatter.

Then, naturally, they order too much food, I tell them it is too much…

then, they call me fat and then tell me to eat more when I am full.
That’s right, I am Asian and I GET FULL.

Ok, enough of that..which is why I went to work and had a double vodka and soda with a fuckload of fresh limes right after.

Stir fried pork, mushroom and bean shoots on crispy egg noodles.  I didn’t eat any of this as it is my mother’s favourite and I thought she could do with it.  She’s an eat-her-feelings kind of woman, and now I understand why.  In then end, her and her sister did the stupid Canto-woman thing of, “Oh, you eat it, I have had enough,” “Oh, no, you eat it.  I can’t pick it up properly with my chopsticks, you are more skilled than I,” “Oh, no, really, I couldn’t.  I got you a fork…please, you eat it.”
The Captain Sub-text translation of this is: Eat it you stupid bitch, I want you to get fat and also think I am a generous person.  I hate you, I hate you, I hate you and I think my life is better.  Please…eat it.

Prawn Dumpling Soup.  Probably one of the better varieties around town, my grandmother’s favourite.  Nothing new…just good.  It is hit-or-miss with the quality of these, though.

Braised fish fillets and vegetables on rice.  Pretty good, well cooked fish.  The rice was a little too wet though, and it was slightly underseasoned.  My mother has taken a liking to this dish recently and also thought her mother could do with some seafood in her diet.

Wet-Style beef and vegetables on rice noodles.  This just basically means that they stir fried the noodles separately to the topping and made a gravy with it.  Crazy flavour town, but they obviously sat the beef in some bi-carb to break it down to tenderise and keep some springiness.  They always do that in Chinese restaurants, rather than just getting good quality beef or cooking it right.  It annoys me.  My grandmother’s pick.  I wasn’t going to go crazy and pull out some vegetarian thing, or innards around them.  My grandmother is the precious type of woman who fusses over my chili consumption and thinks a vegetable-only dish is a little bit of a sickness.

The pluses of this adventure is getting a phone call in the middle telling me that my ABN has been reactivated and my application of it being a NFP organisation has gone through…oh, and I finally got introduced to John So.
His wife apparently remembers me from when I was being dragged around as a 4 week old baby…and yes, they still haven’t stopped smiling.

Dragon Boat, as per usual.