The BERNAM RIVER

The Ferocious Croc & The Swelling Bernam

The nearest route from our house to Hutan Melintang town was through a narrow costal bush trail bypass, no bigger than ‘lorong babi hutan’ as termed by the locals. The distant was less than a kilometer, compared to a 4-kilometer track through the normal kampong road. The braves would readily opted using the coastal bypass, for a quick journey to town. At times one could be confronted by real wild boars darting out from the secondary jungle, or hear the cry of distant wild beasts especially in the very early morning or during dust. Other obstacles were, when crossing the narrow bridges spanning over the two river estuaries. During high tides the loose flatforms swayed with the currents, impassible to the less experienced. Each bridge, with an average of 50 meters in length, having 3 connecting flatforms supported by pillars.

Except for the area where the two bridges were, the whole estuaries almost covered with thick undergrowth foliage twigs locally known as ‘pokok jeruju’ right to the water edge. The upper banks were covered with overgrown giant plants, such as ‘pokok Berembang’, tall creepers and ‘pokok Gorah’. The estuaries looked deep, with dark murky water, believed by the locals as fertile breeding ground for river lobsters ( udang galah). For whatever it was, as far as I can remember, no local fishermen or enthusiast anglers would dare to venture in, as the dark murky water was also believed to be the habitat of ferocious crocodiles.

I always had this eerie feeling of being snap by one of that scaled monster croc, each time I took the river crossings. I had reason to be so. There was this instant, while on our way to school on one fine morning, we saw a baby croc lying idle on one of the bridge loose flatforms half submerged by the high tide.

It was a relief, when a family later known as Pak Mat Tikus (because his body posture apt a bewildered mice crouching, while surveying the area for stray cats before darting out from its hideout to the open ) built his family home by the river bank next to one of the estuaries.

We nicknamed Pak Mat’s eldest son Abang Darus as Tarzan, after a renowned comic and film (jungle adventure) character of writer Edgar Rice Burroughs. As Abang Darus spend most of his time brought up in the swampy jungle, he fits the title of the Jungle Boy well. We also found out that his prowess stunt was jumping from high treetops to the swelling river or at times swinging from one tree branch to another. He was also a good swimmer, having the physique and posture of the jungle hero akin Johnny Weissmuller or Gordon Scott of MGM's Tarzan fame, although Abang Darus did not possessed the fair skin color of both the famed Hollywood stars. Abang Darus had dark skin complexion with thick lips, more like Kunta Kinte, of the famed Hollywood TV series of the nineties.

One fine morning a tragedy struck the family. As was related by Abang Darus, while bathing with his young brother in the swelling tide of Bernam River, a ferocious crocodile snapped the boy and took him underwater. The news broke out like wild fire. Before noon, the area swamped with neighbors, relatives, friends and sympathizers. Poor Abang Darus, all day he fervently stood unfazed by the water edge ready to plunge in and rescue his brother from the crocodile’s jaw. However, after overnight vigil, no crocodile was seen around, nor do they found his brother’s bloated body anywhere nearby.

Later a Pawang Buaya or Shaman was called. This Pawang Buaya claimed to have the magical power to communicate with the ‘Buaya Keramat’ that controlled the Bernam River, for the justification on the killing. It was also claimed that the ‘Buaya Keramat’ would assembled all the ‘buayas’ to condemn the wrong doings. The culprit ‘buaya’ would be punished and ordered to crawl up the riverbank and surrender. The family would take their revenge and kill the crocodile.

We were curious on the outcome, although most believed; there was no way saving the victim, nor do the culprit ‘buaya’ would surrender itself to Abang Darus and his family. However, the daily vigil continued.

A couple of days later someone claimed sighting the crocodile on some distant bank of Berman River with the boy’s body still stuck to it’s jaw. To this, the Pawang Buaya readily announced that the spirit of the ‘Buaya Keramat’ had communicated to him, ordering him to lock the jaws of the defiant crocodile, to which he immediately did.

After a few weeks of waiting there was still no discovery of the missing boy, nor do a crocodile crawling up the riverbank surrendering itself. Therefore, when the school terms began a couple of weeks later, we had to abandon our vigil, and concentrate with our studies.

Soon than expected, life in the Malay Reservation was back to normal again.
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Till the present day I am still in the doubt as to whether Abang Darus’s young brother was really snapped by a marauding crocodile believed by all or that the boy was suck in by strong swelling under-current of Bernam River during high tide, while Abang Darus was busy positioning himself on a high branch of 'pokok Berembang, for his Tarzan stunt.

Wallahualam.

'piggyRabits' for 'The Town Snobs'

True to what Yusof told us, towards the end of January our class received the additional enrolment of students from town. They all look like ‘town snobs’ all right - well groomed, clean, tidy and healthy. They were in proper school uniforms, with matching white shoes and stockings. Their shirts neatly tucked in and their shorts were properly buckled. On many occasions they were paraded by HM as models of properly dressed English School students during the weekly School Assembly. However hard we tried, we from the Malay Reservation were no match to most of them. They were so because they came from affordable elite families as most of them were children of Government Officers from The Custom & Excise, The Police Force, The Marine Police Force, and The Forestry Departments stationed either in Bagan Datoh, Simpang Empat or Hutan Melintang itself. And with the completion of the new Government Quarters at Hutan Melintang the same year the number increased especially in Primary Class 1.
Now there were 2 factions in our GES - (Government English School), Including those in the Primary 1, the total enrolment of each faction almost equal in number. Only a few of six years from nearby Malay Reservation enrolled into the Primary 1 class. The rest were from the Government Quarters and non-Malays pupils from the adjacent estates.
As most of them were from town shcools, for the initial time period we were not that friendly to the new comers. Normally during School Recess we played with our own playmates. While we The Kampung Boys were at our special playground engaged with our war games, those town brads, choose to play football at the school backyard.
There was this new student, nice and well nurtured town boy named Ahmad. While trying to retrieve a ball from a ‘longkang’ behind the school latrine, accidently his left foot got stuck into an uncovered sanitary manhole and was plastered with contaminated ‘morning soil’ – shoes, stocking and all. It was a dreadful sight to see him struggling and pulling himself out of the manhole, dirty and smelly. Together we helped him clean himself before class began.
The incident was an icebreaker between the Village Lads and the so called ‘Town Snobs’. We found out that they were not that snobbish after all, as most of them were friendly lots. We joked on Ahmad’s unhygienic escapade behind the school latrine. We nicknamed all those ‘town boys’ in long stockings as ‘Kerani Jamban.’ In retaliation they termed some of the barefooted village lads as ‘Budak Kaki Ayam’.
Boys were boys. They fight and played together. It was our War Games in the secondary overgrowth that cemented our ‘love hate’ friendship. We admitted them into our War Games Club. As a goodwill gesture we were all treated with fresh apples, by the town boys especially those from Bagan Datoh. They seemed to have ample daily stock of fresh apples and being a member of War Games Club was a win win situation for all. The integration works well. Soon one adventure leads to another. Together we designed more new War Games. We added ‘Perang Kominis’, ‘Perang Red Indian’, ‘Perang Koboi,’ and ‘Tarzan & Jane’ to our original ‘Perang Korea’ and ‘Perang Jepun,’ until the War Game zone became out of bound to all of us during school hours, imposed by the Head Master Mr McKenzie.
There was this incident after class when the War Game became serious. An overzealous assailant splashed a bottle of ink at the other. The victim’s school uniform was badly blackened with ink, and he had to travel back home by bus in it. The incident was reported to the school authorities the next day by the boy’s officer parent. We were all reprimanded and banned from entering the plot.
When school lessons were fully in force, less time was spend in the school playground. The Class of 1953; as the most senior in that GES need to strive for the better. English Language was totally foreign for most, especially to the Kampung Boys. Understanding the grammar and sounding the spoken English in correct phonetics was not a piece of cake to the Bugis, Mendailing, Rawa, Banjarese & Javanese decent from the Malay Reservation. Firstly we all sound awful with English vocals of vowels and consonants. So most of our free times were spend in the class room perfecting our English language pronunciations by reciting Rhymes or Poetry. At times we were force to recite ‘tongue twister’ until we had a bite of good English Pronunciations. “SEA SHELL, SEA SHELL, ON THE SEA SHORE’, or ‘ROUND AND ROUND THE RUGGED ROCK, RAN THE RUSSIAN RASCAL,’ was our daily chant. Also hard luck for all those with bad spellings as the punishment would be writing 100 words for each spelling mistakes done.

(In latter part of my life, while serving as a Senior Radio Producer in Radio Malaysia in 1966 we interviewed a candidate for an opening in The Music Department. He proved himself as a very talented musical student of a renowned Singapore musician Zubir Said. He claimed that he was more than qualified for the Radio job. He also lamented on the difficulty of securing a good job as there was no opening for music graduate like him, that he resorted to tapping rubber to support his family. Right to his claim, he proved himself well versed with music score and played the piano well. My boss was taken by his honesty. Later we did a ‘Voice Test’ on him. We found out that he could not pronounce the letter ‘S’. For such word as “Saya” he would pronounce as “Caya.” So we coined for him a Malay ‘tongue twister, ’SAYA SUKA SAMA SUNDAL.SUNDAL SUKA SAMA SAYA. He was asked to practice hard if he wanted the radio job. He got the radio job alright, but till this day he still practiced hard to get the sound of the letter “S” right. He was not made a DJ or a News Caster, but he excelled himself as a music composer and producer. On retirement he was bestowed a Datok title for his contribution to Malaysian music industry.)

Now back to us The Village Lads; slowly and enthusiastically we shoulder the English sound ‘learning curb’ brunt; meaning more time in chanting ‘tongue twister’ and less time on the playground. With fewer activities on the playing fields meaning we received less supply of daily fresh apples from the town boys. So we thought of a strategy, inviting them to our Weekend War Games Meet. Most importantly we need to encourage the Bagan Datoh town boys, as they were our only source for the constant supply of fresh apples. To this Yusof advocated the idea of having rabbit as pet. He was boastful on the abundant supply at a Chinese farm near his place. As Yusof put it, the owners could not control the overgrown rabbit population and would be too happy to part with those ‘arnab’ for free.
All believed Yusof.
Most of us were taken with the opportunity of having our very own rabbit pet for free. Some even wanted more than one pair, and promised to bring a big ‘gunny sack’ for the catch. As expected the supply of fresh apples from The Bagan Datoh town boys began to pour in regularly.
Time passed, and the urged to cuddle our pet rabbit almost drive some of us crazy. Yusof agreed to honor his promised if only the Bagan Datoh boys could find time for our Weekend War Games Meet, and later visit the Chinese farm for the rabbits. He knew it was difficult for them to give a definite decision as, they could not find a good explanation to their parents to be at school during the weekends. It was a good strategy as he could stall them for sometimes, till he found another solution.
Personally I was not taken by Yusof’s promise. On my own I scouted the Chinese farm mentioned, only to find no rabbits around the compound. I felt betrayed. Was Yusof telling the truth, or that I was ignorant on the where about of the Rabbit Pen.
I was informed later; the group did go to the Chinese farm for the catch on one fine Saturday afternoon. Were they succeeded with their catch? It was an incident of 'The Unforgotten Truth' long remembered only by all those closely involved.

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This Malay rhymes still etched in my mind as I received Nordin Sabran’s SMS recently urging me to consider the incident of PENGEMBALA ANAK ARNAB in my next posting. Well Nordin, here it is. Please correct me if I over dramatized the incident, for as a professional writer I am licensed to it.

Dalam Semak Ada Duri,
Ayam Kuning Buat Sarang;
Orang Tamak Selalu Rugi,
Saperti Anjing Dengan Bayang-Bayang.

WALLAHUALAM.

THE WAY WE WERE

Eulogy For A Long Lost Dear Friend.

The early grouping; the 18 potential 11 year old derived from Malay Schools from around the vast Malay Reserve in the Lower Perak District was the pioneer group of a Special Malay Class 1 for the newly formed Government English School, in Hutan Melintang in 1952. Coming from various kampongs the first week in the GES saw us as total strangers. We were like alien from nowhere, dumb and too scared to break the school law, and being punished for talking in ‘our mother tongue’ – The Malay Language. So either in the classrooms, during recess at the tuck shop or in the school compounds at the beginning and end of school hours each choose to be by himself.
It was this boy from the Malay School next-door that broke the ice. He was tall, slender and had a fair complexion. His sleepy eyes, one could easily mistake him for a Chinese. We repeatedly asked ourselves; how on earth a Chinese lad in our midst We were in the quandary with the notion of having a Chinese in our newly formed Special Malay Class until we had the first opportunity of being on our own in the playground on the 3rd day of schooling. As the teachers were too busy with meetings and administering the newly formed school, we (all the 18 odd boys) were given a football and were allowed to use the adjacent Malay School padang (football field). That was when we found out his true colour. He was a Malay lad after all. Very talkative and played football well.
As he was from the same Malay School, Yusof seems to be in control of most things. First he assured us that in the playing field we won’t be caught by our school teachers and fined for speaking Malay. The school authority would not be around for some times, as they were busy with their chores. He also indicated there would be more students joining us from other towns the coming weeks. He suggested that we the Village lads should form our very own playmates, before those town snobs arrived. Ardently we accepted his leadership. As we were in the school Padang for most of the day, the esprit de corps soon prevails amongst us the Village Lads. Later that week we turned the adjacent vacant secondary forest into our war-game zone, playing our favorite Perang Korea (Korean War) or Kombat Perang Jepun (wwii combat). It was he who initiated the war games. He formulated the rules and designed the moves. Hungary for high adventures playing as aggressors or defenders, the war-game zone in that secondary forest soon became our favorite jaunt during recess or after school. We made him the Captain of our football team and the Combat General in our war games. And sooner Yusof was loved by most. He was the popular figure to all of us, although our class teacher loathes some of his cunning antics.
In school Yusoff positioned himself as an all rounder in sports and games. He captained our Football and Hockey teams in the interschool games and won. In no time the teachers acknowledged his potentials and started to harness him as school player. Winning interschool games meant a lot to most school administrators. Soon Yusof became the favorite for the district cluster schools, in inter-district tournaments. At times we saw less of Yusoff in the class room. Either he was sent for a special training sessions in the school Padang or engaged in district tournaments somewhere else.
Alas, the special attention given to him had a toll on his education. He dropped out after LCE after 6 years playing hero for our school and the district sport circuits.
The first LCE - Lower Certificate Examination 1957 public exam attended by us as the school pioneer group saw a 100% pass but without Yusof on the list to be transferred to the town schools for our upper secondary education. Reluctantly we left our Combat General and School Football & Hockey Captain behind in our pursuit for better education. Later we heard that he got employment in a Kuala Lumpur bank, and we were happy for him.
While most of us went for College and Varsity Education and post-graduate studies we heard that Yusof had a brush with the law and served time. The School Captain & The Combat General slowly vanishes from our mind.
As I came from the same village, I often inquired about his well beings from close associates. I got sketchy reports about him. I was told by his close cousin that after finishing time he was on odd jobs at Taxi Stands and Bus Stations. He later got married, settled down and tried his hand in small business to support his family. The last I heard of him was as an operator of a school canteen.
The only time we met him as a group was at an event at GES Sungai Sumun some years ago. One of our classmates was appointed as The Minister of Education in the Tun Dr.Mahadhir Mohammad’s Cabinet. The alumni decided to accompany the new Yang Berhormat on his official tour of our alma- mater. In the group was also our beloved class teacher Mr. PH Nesaratnam. Along the way, we recounted lots of nostalgic events of our early school days in the GES. In one way or the other, we ‘scaled’ the successes and life achievements of most to the delight of Mr. Nesa. Hardly had we touched on Yusuf’s. The only things that lingered in our mind then, was that he once had a brush with the law and served times.
To our surprised we were received by Yusuf as we followed the Yang Berhormat’s entourage entering the school compound. We had a nice reunion and promised to meet again on the school’s 50th Anniversary on January 2002. The plan never materialized.
The last I met Yusuf, was January last year at Surau Ahmadiah, Parit 25 Baruh, Tanjung Bayan. It was my family’s event celebrating Aidil Adha open house and ibadah korban. Out of the blue he popped in driving his new Proton, in red long sleeves and white pants. His smiles and sense of humor added ambience to the events. We hugged each other. But soon he asked for his leave, as he had other urgent matters to attend to. We promised to meet again.
That was the last time I met our GES School Captain and our Combat General.
His demise on the early Friday morning 11th January 08 (2nd Day Muharram) was a shock to me. I hurriedly drove back to Hutan Melintang for his funeral, only to be told by my nephew that the cortege has left for the funeral grounds. I was flustered for not being able to attend the funeral.
Before the Friday prayer I sms the sad news to few GES colleagues listed in my cell phone simcard.An immediate respond came from Nordin Sabran: ‘TERIMA KASIH ZIZ. BERITA YANG MENYEDIHKAN. ALLAH MENGASIHI NYA. BULAN, HARI DAN MASA YANG BAIK. SAMOGA DI MAAFKAN DOSA-DOSANYA DAN ROHNYA DI RAHMATI.” Other immediate responds came from Dato’ Idris Haji Wahid ex CPO, and Dato’ Zubir Yahya ex MCS. The rest may have not received my SMS or had a vague remembrance of our once Captain and Combat General at the (then) GES.
Alfatihah.

AS THE CLOCKS STRIKE MIDNIGHT

Say what you may - personally I never ever remain awake till midnight on any New Year eve to usher the new day like most around me. For this year New Year eve, or on other New Year eves before, I was always on my normal of the night routine; early to bed and early to rise the following day. While the effluents around me are all in joyous mood to herald the start of a new year, I said my prayer, and then tug my body in bed hoping to have a peaceful sleep for the night. I’ll be in bed as early as 10.00pm on New Year eve, hoping the midnight bombardment of firecrackers from my neighborhood, would not disturb my slumber. This year or before that, at this very minute, before I closed my eyes those in the Pacific islands had already ushered in the new day, while in Sydney Harbor, Australia the countdown is on. For the New Yorkers they are a daylight away for the New Year midnight blitz at Times Square, unlike in Kuala Lumpur, PJ, Penang in Malaysia or  Singapore; for at this particular hour, the revellers are already in jubilant mood partying and waiting for the auspicious moment only couple of hours away.
And as the clocks strike twelve, the needle struck the 1st second past midnight, most would be making their New Year wish while passionately hugging and kissing their love ones. Others would take on any available opposite sex around them, particularly those high on drinks or drug hanging around looking for kicks, all in the name of New Year fun. (Please forgive me if it offends some of you out there.)
I had a student buddy in UK early 1970ies who never missed being at Trafalgar Square for the New Year celebrations, for free hugs and kisses from those fair skinned European Girls as the clock struck midnight. We nicknamed him Din the Vampire. He returned to Malaysia few years later with a law degree and was admitted to the Malaysian Bar. He had a successful business carrier as an advocate & solicitor, married to his childhood friend, has 4 children and eventually lost his fangs.
On the home ground we have The latest ‘Mat Rempit’ craze - the free for all illegal racing spectaculars for the New Year Eve Excitements. They are bands of homegrown reckless motorcycle riders showing off their riding stunts to their ardent followers and onlookers. These bands of ‘Mat Rempit’ will raced through the night as the yonder sky lighted with fireworks heralding the new day. The winner in the this outlawed contest would win a virgin teen to spent the night with, while the unlucky one would have their vehicles impounded by the police, and charged for dangerous riding.
As the tradition has it: come New Year, one has to have new resolutions of which after sometimes all would be totally forgotten. Old habits die hard, as the saying goes. This is true. Wishes made, and wishes forgotten.
As of the 1st January 2008 Germany and France joined other European countries to totally ‘banned smoking’ in bars, restaurants and in some public places. Can you imagine, a smokeless October Fest in all Bars & Restaurants beginning 2008 in Germany?
But Germans as they are, known to be disciplined lots, so I am optimistic the campaign would garner some success. In lesser-fare France the ban would not take effect immediately on the very morning of the 1st January 2008. According to the news report full enforcement would only be in place, a few days later. But believe you me; one cannot totally eradicate livelong habits of most hardcores. Although the campaign would record favorable successes there would also be lots of defectors, and absconders.
Okey!! Go on promise yourself - No Smoking, No Drinking, No Womanizing, No Drugs, No Vice......and no more bad habits. Turn to a clean slate...and have a promising New Year. Who cares if you abscond the next day. You'll have yourself to blame for all your missdeeds.
Renowned American humorist and author Mark Twain once said: “Total abstinence is so excellent and thing that it cannot be carried to too great an extent. In my passion for it I even carry it too far to totally abstain from total abstinence itself.’ On the lighter point here is an anecdote from a TV Personality Johnny Carson of The Tonight Show” I know a man who gives up smoking, drinking, sex and rich food. He was healthy right up to the day he killed himself.”
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So now, you label me a paranoid hah………an unreasonable character, an individualistic dirty old man, a patriarch thinking too much of myself for not heralding the start of the New Year with pomp like all others, would you?
I beg to differ. The Muslim New Year would be celebrated on the 1st Muharram, coming 10th January 2008. Religious congregations are being planned by most Muslim world over. All Muslim are duty bound to take note on that. So would be me……
With that, I rest my case.