‘When we are generous in welcoming people and sharing something with them …not only do we no longer remain poor: we are enriched.’
– Pope Francis
I received a bag of rambutans from a neighbour who lived opposite my house a few days ago and was deeply touched and surprised by the gift.
I was busy cleaning the car porch when his 10-year-old son walked over with a packet of leftover sandwiches for my dog.
A few minutes later, he returned with rambutans and kept on calling me “Poh, Poh” (which means grandmother in Mandarin) every step of the way.
“For you, Poh, Poh,” he said politely as he handed over the bag of rambutans to me at the gate.
When I asked him where he got them, he replied, “My grandmother’s tree.”
His mother’s mother lives in Matang and when his mother does not have to go to work, the family will visit his grandmother there.
The boy’s father appeared in front of me a few minutes later and explained that his mother-in-law had two rambutan trees.
One of the trees was heavily laden with fruits this year while the other one bore fewer fruits.
Last year, the kind man also gave me a bag of crystal fruits from his mother-in-law’s garden.
I am very lucky to have such a generous neighbour.
He is the only neighbour who shares with me his blessings and helps me feed my dogs when I’m travelling.
“Rambutans are yummy and sweet,” I reported to my youngest sister, Ah Lan, who lived in Johor Bahru, later that night.
My friends, we, Sarawakians, are so lucky.
We get to enjoy different types of fruits all year round.
I guess it is the rambutan season now.
Rambutan is a tropical Southeast Asian fruit with a red, hairy exterior that protects its sweet, translucent white flesh with a texture like a grape or lychee and a mildly sweet-tart taste.
To eat it, you peel the skin, pop the pulp into your mouth and discard the inedible seed inside.
Not so long ago, it was the crystal fruit season.
Crystal fruit (scientific name: ‘Pometia pinnata’) refers to the Matoa fruit, also known as Brazilian longan or crystal longan.
It has a tough, hard shell and a sweet translucent flesh similar to lychee or rambutan.
To open the crystal fruit, you crack the hard shell by squeezing it between your palms or by gently hitting it on a hard surface.
I had the chance to eat the crystal fruits, thanks to a friend in the office who brought some from her husband’s farm in Kota Samarahan.
I tried some and later bought three kilograms of the fruits from her for my niece, Ah Hong, who was back from Singapore on a short break.
That kind friend from the office also gave me and other colleagues unripe mature bananas from her husband’s garden.
The bananas ripened less than a week later.
I think it is good for neighbours and friends to share garden produce like fruits and vegetables as a gesture of goodwill and for strengthening bonds. It is also a lovely way to enjoy surplus harvests.
Last year, I visited a nephew’s house and was shocked to see ripe rambutans rotting on a tree in his neighbour’s garden.
I wondered why the neighbour did not share his rambutans with his neighbours and friends.
Were the rambutans sour?
Frankly speaking, I don’t mind receiving rambutans that are not so sweet from neighbours.
I think gardeners who have more fruits should always share them to prevent waste.
If the fruits cannot be eaten, then the trees should be cut down and replaced with new and better trees.
In the olden days, giving food to neighbours, especially in the kampung or longhouses, was a common, expected practice.
In the villages, sharing your abundance like mangoes or chillies is common.
In the towns or cities, you cannot do that because sometimes, you don’t know who your neighbours are.
There are many reasons for this. In the towns or cities, life is often fast-paced.
People have busy work schedules, long commutes and active personal lives with less time for spontaneous social interactions. In smaller communities, places like post offices, corner shops or town squares naturally bring people together.
But city living often involves private conveniencedriven interactions like online shopping or private gyms instead of shared community spaces.
In the towns or cities, features like secure entry systems, internal stairwells and private backyards can also reduce accidental encounters and casual conversation opportunities that street-facing porches or communal greenspaces might encourage.
In the urban areas, people move more frequently due to job changes, rent increases or lifestyle changes.
This constant flux makes it harder for stable, long-term relationships with neighbours to form and persist.
Cities and towns are also melting pots of diverse cultures, languages and social norms.
This diversity can sometimes create initial barriers to interactions.
If you don’t know your neighbours, how can you share your abundance with them?.
They might even throw away what you offer them because they don’t eat the fruits or vegetables but are too polite to tell you so.
But anyway, I always tell friends in the office, especially the younger ones, to share their abundance with colleagues, people they know, in the office.
Sharing is caring, I tell them.
Personally, I think sharing fruits and vegetables with friends is a great practice.
It prevents waste. Instead of letting the extra produce spoil, giving it away ensures that the food is consumed, reducing food waste and make the most of your harvest or produce.
It is also an act of generosity that strengthens social bonds.
It shows that you care, encourages reciprocity and fosters a sense of community.
It also helps your friends save money on groceries and can create a positive cycle of support.
By providing fresh, nutritious food, you are also helping your friends access healthy produce they might not otherwise have.
Sharing fresh, local homegrown produce can also inspire your friends to appreciate where their food comes from and make them start their own gardens.
My friends, to those of you who have gardens, I pray that you have bountiful harvests but don’t forget to share them with your families, friends and neighbours.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at adelinel888@gmail. com.
