Before my Dad became a scissors sharpener, he was first and foremost, a tau foo fah maker, just like his own father who came from China to Malaya more than a hundred years ago. Together, they have made some of the smoothest tau foo fah I have ever eaten.
In those days, life as a tau foo fah maker was no fun. Without sophisticated tools like the electronic blender or boiler, everything from A to Z have to be done by hands. You will need as many helpers as possible – all the wives and children have to chip in to help in the production. There were no illegal immigrants at that time like what we have now. Work started mostly in the middle of the night and ended the next morning.
With this in mind, my Dad decided that none of his children should take over his trade. Instead, he sent us all to school and made us studied hard. In the end, he did not teach any of us how to make those smooth and delicious tau foo fah. It was a skill he took with him to the grave.
“How can you claim you’re the daughter of a tau foo fah maker when you knew next to nothing about making tau foo fah?” my husband challenged me one day.
It was none of my fault but there was a dying curiosity to know something about my roots. I thought it won’t hurt to learn it. So when we came across an advertisement in the Chinese newspaper that a lady is offering lessons on how to make tau foo fah, I signed up for it, just for the fun and to satisfy my curiosity.
That was how I met Madam Tan last year. She was a lady in her early sixties who stays in Cheras, near Kuala Lumpur. She used to make and sell tau foo fah in her early days but had since retired and now spend her time giving lessons from her house.
The first thing I noticed about this friendly lady was her left hand. There were some visible scars all over it.
“Auntie, are you a left-hander?” I asked her as she began grinding the soya beans with the blender using her left hand. It was the first day of my lessons with her.
“Yes, I was born a left-hander but I was not allowed to use it in my early life. It was only after I got married at 16 that I could use it openly,” she told me, without any bitterness in her voice.
“Who did not allow you to use it and why?” I asked since I have a daughter who is left-handed too.
“It was bad enough to be born as a girl in a very poor family but to be born as a left-handed girl into a poor family, it was a double tragedy,” she said softly.
She continued telling her sad story as she blended the beans effortlessly with her left hand.
“You know, my father was a bean curd maker. We were poor and the family was big. No schooling for us. Instead, all of us have to help him made bean curd. As a left-handed person, a heavy task like grinding the soya beans using the traditional stone mortar became a nightmare for me because the handles for this tool was designed for a right-handed person,” she said.
“So how you managed to do it?” I asked her.
“Well, my father forced me to use the right hand. He would beat me with a big stick whenever he caught me using the left hand. Can you see the scars on my left hand? They came from all the beatings I have to endure in my early years,” she explained while showing me her scars.
“Oh, my goodness!” I can’t help feeling disgusted with her sufferings.
“He said my using the left hand would slow down the whole process of making the bean curds. To punish me for this, he would cut down on my food ratio and I was left hungry for the rest of the day,” Madam Tan said.
“How can he treat you like that, it’s not fair!” I cried.
“Yes, life is not fair for those who were born as left-handers. We were considered to be the bearer of bad luck. When I was born, my father lost some money on gambling and he blamed it on me, and that was why he disliked me from the beginning.”
She went on, “When he caught me using the left hand to pick up food, he would bring the cane or stick hard on my hands. In the end, I ate most of my meals alone in the bedroom, far away from his sight, otherwise I could not eat in peace.”
Madam Tan told me it got so bad that she thought of running away from home or even commit suicide because she could not tolerate her father’s beatings or punishments any more; all because she used her left-hand and not her right one.
“My father used to said a left-hander would not survive in a right-hander’s world. That was why he was so harsh in training me to use my right hand. I knew what he did for me was for my own good but it was so painful and devastating for my emotional well-being.”
In the end, Madam Tan ran away from home in Segamat, Johore and went to work in Singapore as a stall helper. There, she met her husband and they got married. She was only 16 and he was 21. She admitted it was because she wanted to escape from her abusive father.
Years later, Madam Tan and her husband came back to Kuala Lumpur and operated their own tau foo fah stall until she retired a decade ago. She was the first and only left-handed person I have ever met who have to endure so much pain simply for being born as a left-handed person, and it was not her fault at all. It was so unfair.
On the way home I though how lucky Alexandra was and this encounter made me even more protective of my daughter’s right to live life as a left-hander. I am determined she will grew up as a happy left-hander.
And as for the tau foo fah, yes, I did made them on my son’s birthday a few days ago and they were quickly snapped up by his friends.
“Yummy, simply delicious and smooth, from whom did you learned to make this?” one of the boys asked me as he dug into his fourth bowl.
“From an auntie who used her left-hand!” I told him laughingly.
She is amazing, isn’t she?
I often heard older generations punishing their left-hander children, but the parents to this lady is too much. This is an abuse. I’m glad that your girl have you as her mummy who understands this. Not everyone does, even at our society now, someone could be still be having a bias view to the left handers.
Hi Andrew,
Yes, it is a matter of how you look at left-handed people and accept them as they are. But I think, with more understanding now, the discrimination had somewhat lessen. 🙂
I found your blog through Dean Johns, who provided a link here. I’m glad he did. It’s the personal stories people tell that make human beings endlessly fascinating. Thanks for contributing to the ever-unfolding story of Malaysia, Ipohgal! 🙂
Hi Antares,
You’re welcome! I am very honored that you guys dropped by! 🙂 This post is a toast to a brave Malaysian lady who lived life according to her terms! 🙂
Hi Ipohgal,
Like Antares I came to your link thru Dean Johns’ .
I am very touched by your remembrance of things past !
I hope to be able to reminisce about my younger days when I retire in a few short years.
Meanwhile, any chance you can give me the contact number of the lady giving lessons on making tow foo fah ?
I want to learn the art of making bean curd as well.
Much obliged !
Hi Nga,
Thanks for your visit 🙂 I have made a call to this gusty lady yesterday but unfortunately, her husband said she was recovering from a stroke recently and would like to retire permanently. I can teach you if you like, it is actually very easy to make tau foo fah. 🙂
Ipohgal, mind sharing the recipe to me too? It would be great to have the tau foo fah at the comfort of our own home 🙂
Hi Andrew,
No, I don’t mind 🙂 Gather more people and one day, I might conduct a tau foo fah lesson for you gals and guys 🙂
Hi Ipohgal,
Thanks for the offer of teaching us how to make tau foo fah.
I would be glad to take up your offer.
Regards
Hi Nga,
Count you in! 🙂