THERE were two Valentine's Day this week.

The Chinese one on 9 Feb and yesterday.

Of the latter calendar day - marked by candy, flowers and greeting cards - I have but nought to offer, coming from a generation where the price of a Hallmark card's better spent on a bowl of tick-tock mee.

And then flowers were what you saw at funerals, and candy - what you never took from a stranger.

Not to say one didn't attempt at declaration variations: 'Will you be my Serpentine?', 'Will you be my Turpentine?', 'Will you be my Melamine?'.

We all know where that last ended.

So much for 'Roses are red, violets are blue, what happened to you?'.

Chap goh meh, on the other hand, is worth its weight in golden oranges. It is the 15th day (in Hokkien) of the Chinese New Year and on this night, which closes CNY, the first full moon of the lunar calendar is sighted.

I'm especially pleased to report that chap goh meh originated in the land of my birth, Penang. Not all things oriental are made in China. CNY itself dates back 4,600 years.

The occidental Valentine's Day can't be pinned down. History records it as anytime between early Christian martyrs (AD269-AD197) and Chaucer (1350). Greeting cards were first produced in 1850, and pre-SMS, women bought 80 per cent of the valentines, men being the real cards.

In modern times it is also known as 'Singles Awareness Day', (sob, SAD, rub it in, why don't you).

Back in Penang, the No 1 thing to do to celebrate CNY is not to run away. It is unheard of, tantamount to treason, to go away during the 15 days.

For it is the one time in the year when entire family clans come together, people you didn't know were your relatives, relatives you can't stand the faces of, all throw restraint to the wind, and greet and wish one another like long lost brothers.

Considering the limited number of Chinese surnames - Ong, Lim, Tan, Chua, Ang, Goh, Wee - it's not difficult. By the way, in dialect that reads: King drinks, makes noise, takes a wife, goes to the loo.

Ang pows (pre-hanyu pinyin) were anything from 20 cents to a whopping $12.

A friend who thought she'd go to Port Dickson for the festive weekend, when asked 'what for' by her mother, had said, 'Oh, for kicks'. Her mother's response, 'No need, stay here and I'll kick you.'

Outside of compulsory visits, we never went anywhere. Until chap goh meh. It was off to the seaside and the esplanade. To behold a traditional ritual you'll hardly see in any of the other Malaysian states.

Tim ho kum,

chuay ho ang.

(Throw an orange, find good husband.)

Maidens (girls of marriageable age) in their crispiest of new bajus would throw oranges (clementines and tangerines, not Sunkist and Jaffa) into the sea to wish for a decent husband. Though my mother always said leave the husbands alone and find yourself a man, but that's another kor su (story).

This custom came about because young women then were not let out at night, even with a chaperon, it was not safe, yes, I know, how you must be laughing at this, as you come home at 4am.

Why an orange? Apples and bananas would sink, and durians were not in season. Orange is the CNY fruit, for its colour, and in Cantonese, it also means 'gold'.

We would travel by trishaws and trucks to the Pitt Street temple, where the men - young and old, beggars can't be choosers - would sing a different tune.

Tim lor kor,

chuay ho bor.

(Throw a drum, find a good wife.)

Why a drum? Well you know what they say about an empty vessel.

In recent years, Penang singletons have taken to inscribing their oranges with their telephone numbers (do use waterproof ink).

Eligible males then scoop the kums with nets and sieves. Fate does the rest.

If you don't live by the sea, any body of water will do. The longkang, the sink, a pail of water.

But stop at the toilet bowl, or your marriage will hit a new bottom.

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