Help Thou Neighbour

I was up late and heard some "unaccustomed" noises on our street. Since our area's been partially closed (a section of our housing area is now gated and guarded), our street's been a lot quieter.

Curious about the sounds of purring engines, hushed voices, rattling car doors accompanied with some weird lights coming through the cracks on our window blinds.. I peeked. And saw a UMMC ambulance parked in front of a neighbour's house across from ours.

Ambulances make my heart fall. They make my jantung skip a tiny beat and then if there're sirens on, they'd pull my heart right down into my foot or something like akin to that. My first surgery was so bad, I've learned what it's like for an invalid person who is helpless and cannot move while doctors cut and sew and do things to your body. Remembering the wake-up test during the surgery (when they wake you up mid-surgery to ask you to wriggle your toes; this is to test nerve function once they've fused your spine), I can imagine what it's like for a patient to feel helpless and ill. There is nothing worse than being so ill, you cannot force yourself to wake.

I wonder how the person feels. That person who was straddled onto the stretcher, helplessly taken into the ambulance and to the hospital tonight, not 20 minutes ago.

After the ambulance left, there were some more noises and I peeked again. Saw two people get into the car and drive out of the house. No doubt to follow their loved one who was taken to the hospital.

Both times when I peeked, I was overcome with a feeling of guilt and shame. I really really wish there was something I could do to help. Or just ask if there is anything they need help with. And then I realised that I don't even know their names. I don't know who they are.

And they live just several houses away from us.

When I was little, this neighbourhood was different. Everybody knew everybody. Neighbours went to other neighbours' houses. I remember going to Uncle Dzul's house across the street (of the Dzul Dental Surgery here in DU, and whose daughter is part of the wonderous WonderMilk) and playing with his kids. Now when we bump into each other, we'd just smile and raise our hands. That's it. We don't even visit each other during Raya anymore.

Then there's Uncle Rony next door who is (and always was) very tolerant of the shoutings and screamings that came from our noisy house back when all five kids stayed here in this ol' DU house. Once, years ago, Shazwan and Sarah threw stuffed toys into their compound and Aunty Michelle came knocking on my car window to return the toys to us. I was so shocked I thought she was one of those mute people who go around selling stuffed toys to the general public, and I kept on shaking my head and gesturing "No, No, taknak beli". To which she good-naturedly laughed and later on forgave me for it. Hehhh. Malu woh.

But other than them... we don't know any other neighbours.

So in the end, in the event like tonight, when we so wanted to reach out and offer help.... we don't know how. And so we couldn't help.

This is not the right way to live, is it, my friends?

When we were in Melbourne, Margaret our downstairs neighbour used to irritate the heck out of us. But if we put Margaret aside (in the discarded-memory-box where she ought to belong), come to think of it.. we had good neighbours.

Once we had a blackout and H and I were peeking out of our front door to see if the main power switchbox in the hallway tripped, and Fiona from across the hall came out to check if we had enough candles to face the blackout. When we went out onto the balcony, that buff neighbour of ours from the next block (forgot his name) called out to ask if we were okay, and if we needed some candles or torchlights.

Then there were those bees which built a humongous (really!) nest on the balcony of one neighbour from next door and the buff neighbour approached us and asked if we'd like to go along to tell the neighbour that they had a bee infestation, and to offer help to remedy the situation somehow.

And once when our foreign neighbour accidentally left her keys inside the apartment and was locked out, while her 2 year-old son was locked in the apartment, the neighbours upstairs hurriedly peeked to see if there was anything they could help us with when they heard the commotion (that was our shrill voices calling out to the li'l boy if he could reach and open the door).

We Asians are supposed to have more of a neighbourhood spirit, and culturally we were supposed to put more stress on social ties and relationships. At least that's what most researchers said back when I researched for Cross Cultural Negotiations. That Asian cultures are more concerned about interpersonal relationships and so on.

So where on earth did we go wrong?

Well...

I hope our neighbours are doing fine somehow.