YONG KALSOM

Legacy Of A Hardcore Poor

I will be 67 next week. My eldest first cousin Yong Kalsom who is 6 years older than me, would be 73 this year. As she is my only surviving elder, I like to dedicate this posting on her state of affairs as a hardcore poor all her life.

By chance I stumble into her last weekend at my nephew’s wedding reception, a week after PRU12 (Malaysian 12th General Election). The upturned unpreceded big swing of BN votes to the oppositions for Federal Parliament and to some state Legislative Assemblies was still the talk of the town. Hence throughout the wedding ceremony, local politics ruled the day.

In jest I asked Yong Kalsom how she feel on the outcome of PRU12, to which she hesitantly responded. "Nak kata apa?" (What am I to say.) Her answer was simple. “Macam tuu juga.” (Like always).

My next question was more provocative.

“Did you cast your vote?”

She nodded rigorously. Her gazing eyes caught me for a few moments. Then she gave me her usual grin. The sweet smile from this petite lady that I longed for. That sisterly smiling of hers rekindles fond memories of my yesteryears. As time remembers, she had been giving me those passionate smiles every time we were together. She was a person of not so many words but had always been mindful on others. I know her too well for that. We were closed since childhood, although most of our adult lives, we grew up apart. Her home has always been at our ancestral village Kampung Tanjung Bayan; unlike myself, after college education, I had been living around the country; firstly in Trengganu, then moved to Kuala Lumpur, later transferred to Penang, and on a special call of duty for a 2 year assignment to Sabah, then back in Kuala Lumpur and settled down in Petaling Jaya, Selangor.

“Whom did you vote for?”(Undi siapa?) This time I was more demanding. My inner feelings questioned my authority doing so.

Yong Kalsom was alert to respond. “I vote for the same party symbol as before.” (Saya undi parti yang sama macam dulu).

And again she gave me that passionate smile of hers. I was agitated to press for more definite answer from her, only my conscience stalled me briefly. Repeatedly I asked myself: “Why am I doing this?”

“Before it was the Perahu Layar now the Dacing.” (Dulu Kapal Layar sekarang Dacing). She honestly explained. I could see her eyes sparkles with pride. I was lost for words. She was honest all through.

For the record: Since Merdeka the constituents had returned the same party: UMNO -PERIKATAN later UMNO-BN. The Election Logo of PERIKATAN then was Perahu Layar ( a traditional Malay Boat with sail), later the logo changed to Dacing ( a Scale ) after PERIKATAN known as BN-Barisan Nasional.)

“But this time your party has lost the election. The constituency is now under the opposition,” I teased her in jest. ‘Dammed you, sucker!!’ I condemned myself.

Again she gave me the same passionate smiles. Then her lips moved. She uttered something I could not really grasp due to my tone deafness. But I could read her lips clearly. It sounds like: “Macam tuu juga” (Like always).

I remember a couple of years ago when I visited her in our ancestral village, she proudly announced that she had successfully installed a pipe water supply to her dilapidated dwelling. She was so proud of the new facility; for she need not cycled some kilometers away for a supply of fresh drinking water or make do with available rain water collected.

Long before Merdeka the Malay Settlement was provided by The British Colonial with a (free) public water supply. After Merdeka; only the affordable villages living along the pipelines were given the option to install the facilities to their homes. By ‘Kampong Standard’: having pipe water supply to one’s home, is considered a luxury living. So it was a long wait for Yong Kalsom to afford the available facility and enjoy the luxury.

The 50 years wait was never too late for her. Unfazed, the following year she affords herself with the supply of electricity. I presumed the long wait had fullfilled a lifetime achievement for her, as both electricity and water supply lines run along the trunk road less than 100 meters from her home.

Yong Kalthum has been a hardcore poor all her life. She had no formal education, neither any working skill. She lived by the day doing casual labour. I remember she had a hard childhood brought up by her mother Auntie Uda, a single parent. She and her younger sister were child labourers. They used to tag along with their mother venturing out of our village as far as 30 to 50 kilometers away to Sungai Manik, Labu Kubung in Perak or Sungai Besar or Sungai Leman in Selangor looking for seasonal odd jobs, planting or harvesting padi. They were not paid in cash, only given free foods and accommodations plus a few gantang of rice for each to take home after a complete harvest. That was the norms then, people usually engaged in odd labours in exchange for foods. At other times the family would tend their ¼ acre TOL agriculture land planting vegetables.

I vividly remember, way back in the sixties the family would attended to my father’s Rumah Salai Kelapa ( Coconut Kiln ) before dawn each morning for a couple of week each month during coconut harvesting seasons. My father was a small time coconut harvester, running his own Coconut Kiln producing copra. Each was paid a daily wage of around 20 to 40 cents, depending on the amount of dried copra each managed to separate from the coconut shells. It was a couple of hour’s job from dawn to daybreak. The rest of the day would be tending to their vegetable plot or doing other odd jobs in the Malay Settlement. I really adored them.

To this day, and some fifty years into Merdeka, after 2 marriages with no children ( except for an adopted daughter, now married and living in the same village ) after 3 deaths (her mother, younger sister and 2nd husband) and after successfully performing the Hajj in Mekkah, Yong Kalsom never fail doing her daily round in the Malay Settlement on her rickety bicycle looking for odd jobs. And at 70 years plus, she is still at it to support herself, as a hardcore poor.

What a life she has gone through and a pathetic tale to post in this blog. But that is what it is. Believe it or not: the legacy of hardcore poor still exists in our so-called affluent nation.

“Are you being looked after by the Welfare Department?” the final question suddenly popped out from my mouth.

She looked confused.

“Adake terima wang kebajikan dari Kerajaan?” I rephrased my question.

She shook her head vigorously.

“Tak mandang.” ( ‘Never’ as in local dialect )

“Orang politik ta’pernah tanya ke?” I provoked her.

Diligently, she shook her head.

“Kenapa?” (Why?) I demanded for an answer.

“They said I was never a party member.” (Kata mereka saya bukan ahli parti.)

I was flabbergasted. Poor Yong Kalsom. How can they do this to her?

Politik aside; someone need to rectify her state of affairs. She maybe one of the many village hardcore poors unattended to. One only need to go around and ask.

The incumbent BN palimentarian or the new Opposition State Government please take note.

PRU 12 - The Unfortunate Fallout

It turn out to be an unfortunate fallout from PRU-12 resulting a polarized Dewan Rakyat with the 140 BN bench heavily Malay-Bumiputra dominated on one side and an evently mix race for the 82 seats of the OPPOSITION bench on the other.

The final tally of 14O for BARISAN comprising of UMNO,MCA,MIC, GERAKAN and Sabah and Sarawak Parties, with the OPPOSITION 82 seats comprising PKR, DAP and PAS. On the state level BARISAN NASIONAL garnered 307 seats, PKR 42 seats, DAP 71 seats, PAS 83 seats & Inde 2. BN lost control of 4 states and 1 Federal Territory to the OPPOSITION excluding Pas forever stronghold KELANTAN. Attempt by BN to wrestle Kelantan State Government, backfired.

According to political analysis BN won only 48.1% of popular vote in the peninsula, 51.2% if Sabah and Sarawak included. The Chinese support for the OPPOSITION estimated at 35% from 65%, representing 30% swing. The Indian was 47% down from 82% to 35% swing and for the Malays there was a 5% swing from 63% in 2004 election. This translate to a higher swing among the Chinese and Indian, and less among Malays.

PBU12 unexpected result reminded me of PBU 1969, which saw the ruling Alliance Party receiving major setback. It managed to retain simple Parliamentary Majority. It lost Penang to opposition The Gerakan Party, Kelantan to PMIP with Perak and Selangor on the brink of falling into the oppositions. 3 Alliance Ministers and 2 Parliamentary Secretaries lost. Shared of popularity (valid ) votes had dropped 9% since PBU 1964 to 49%. The Alliance faced the prospect of a vociferous opposition in the Parliament for the first time since Merdeka.

The unexpected swing of votes from the ruling BN party to the Opposition PKR,DAP & PAS on PBU12 stunned the nation. To justify this, the aftermath saw no exultant supporters of the PKR,DAP,PAS jubilant reactions, except a deep shock to the BN and its component parties ( especially in Semenanjung ).

Early reactions attributed to the fall outs, blamed compelecencies of BN political leaderships, political backbiting among BN component party members, and the replacing tested incumbent representatives with untested green horns ect. More so, MIC the 3rd largest BN component party was facing a back lashed from a newly Indian grouping The Hindref.

The scribe also believed that there is another unseen pertinent influence resulting on the unprecedented election result. One may say, that it was the ruling parties perceived might of the Mainstream Media and the onslaught of BN Campaign-Advertising Blitz on almost all major Print & The Electronic Communication Channels backfired. In retaliation the opposition powered the new emerging Alternative Media namely The Internet and other Telecommunication system.

The ruling party has been noted as having the upper hand on most in country mainstream media be it printed or electronics. Radio network was fully used to agitate people on Government Development Policies right from Pre Merdeka periods while film and the Television Media added sustainable realities to all. Come election time the ruling party ardently tighten their grip on most available print, broadcast and telecommunication system (public as well private) for sustainable future successes - not well received by most of the effluent and the intellectual groups. Rightly they advocated the freedom of speech. They argued that those mainstream medias as being controlled and serving the same master. Eventually it frustrate the rakyat at large.

The scribe is not a political pundit, neither a social analyst. The scribe is just an ordinary citizen, a keen observer on the country's state of affairs, especially its economic and social standings by regularly updating current knowledge through reading and follow the news regularly. We feel trilled to fathom the pulse of the nation through people mass reactions on issues -the feelings akin to solving word puzzles.

But to fathom mass human feelings is not just a game of solving crossword puzzle. We are dealing with human aptitude or mass media behavioral inclinations. For that, it is believed that authoritative reporting on matters pertaining to issues close to the masses rightly enhanced knowledge based society. Hence the pulse of the nation could immediately be gauged. And so, it is proper to acknowledge the forces of media for societal reforms. That's what we all believe in. But there is the other side of the media force. As the saying goes: mass media is a two-edged sword, with multi-pronged might. It builds as well destroys. On the other hand, 'Politics is the art of perception, real or imagined'. Wrong media slants would result to deceptions.

One can say, continuous positive reporting and promotional Media Blitz is a thumb up for the BN. Positive reportage for BN and 'bad press' for the opposing parties would garner bigger support for the ruling incumbents. But the opposition have done extremely well using the alternative media squashing all the 'bad press' and negative exposei of their leaders. They used Internet,Blogs and SMSes channels to reach the rakyat and to show they care. Ardently they proved that they can connect with the people at large and be a force to articulate their dissatisfaction. The alternative media works well with the younger generation, a large proportion of the voters. Its might spread like wild fire across the nation.

Political jibes (mostly informal and misleading) went well with the people during campaign process and right thought the election night and beyond - an escapism to the ardent followers hungry for revealing informations.

Believe you me, for the PRU12 political campaign, it was the revealings on mass perception of unreavel truths by the opositions that matters most.

"Wallahualam"

MALAYSIAN ELECTION - PRU 12 - 8th March 2008

Malayan Election to local councils was first held in 1952, and in 1955 another election was held for a new legislative council; opening the new era for democracy. As early as 1948, the British promised independence, with a proviso what they termed a “period of preparation.” High spirits filled the air as the need to self-rule our very own motherland after more than 500 years under the colonial powers. While the skeptics were pessimistic of the outcomes, the spirits of PILIHAN RAYA reverberate in towns and villages all over the Peninsular. Political campaign as well educating citizen of their rights to vote took the once tranquil society on the march to nationhood. Radio Malaya ceaselessly aired broadcast reminders of the auspicious day through especially composed tune MARI MENGUNDI sung by Zainal Alam a renowned broadcaster. We were all jolted by the punchy tune and the expressive and persuasive jingle:
“Undilah tuan dan puan,
Duapuluh Tujuh Haribulan,
Pilihanraya yang pertama,
Marilah, undilah bersama-sama.”
It was one of those enlightening tune easily sung by most, young and old…not forgetting kids like us. I was a young lad then, a student in a Government English School. Till this day ( five decades later) the tune reverberate in my mind when at 12.43 PM on the 13th February 2008, my daughter Hazleen SMS me from RTM News Room where she worked, on the (Embargoed News) that our beloved PM Dato’ Seri Abdullah Ahmad Badawi dissolving Parliament to pave way for the country’s 12th General Election to be held on the 8th.March 08.
Reminiscences of PILIHANRAYA UMUM (PBU) rejuvenates an old man’s memories way back to the period of the threshold of an independent nation that we should be all proud of.
The country was in turmoil since the landing of the invading Japanese Forces in 1941 followed by communist terrorist insurgence, causing instability to a weak nation. Under those circumstances, along the years life was hard for most, though the country was the world exporter of copra, rubber and tin. The upheavals resulting in unstable nation. The country had to strive to fend itself economically as well guaranteed security and stability to enhance social democracy. It was a hideous struggle for all – the government as well peace loving citizens. The Communist Ideologies opposed social realism advocated by our Independent Fathers as a far cry from the reality of social democracy in Malaya then. They demanded the right to rule by instigating the people to join their struggles. They had nationwide and outside influences. They were terrorist and sympathizers around us and in our midst. They create havoc and terrorized the nation.
A state of emergency was declared as of 1948. The British Government Administration alongside local vigilantes fought those terrorists’ untoward provocations. The country was dragged into a long civil war against terrorism.
The fight for self rules continued. We are lucky that our Independence Fathers choose the right ideological path, as we are now a democratic free nation of the world.
31st August 1957 was the historic date. 31st August 1957 was our Independence Day.
The post Merdeka era, saw massive social and economic developments to the country. We strived to be a fully-fledged nation. Federation Malaysia was formed in 1963. Together we built the country into a prosperous nation. We advocated peace and harmony among nations. After 50 years Merdeka the country progresses by leaps and bounds. Malaysia a model for under-developed and developing nations of the world for the continuous peace and progress it has achieved over the last 5 decades.
We are proud that Malaysian as a nation was built on high human values of truth, integrity, honesty, justice, equality and freedom. The nation survives because we respected each other truthfully. We are a nation of multicultural, multi religious and multi ethnic. Together we integrate as Malaysians. Together we built this nation, we enriched our national culture, we advocate perseverance for a just society and believed in God.
Elections meaning tracking and taking stock on societal political maturity as well enlivened democracy to the fullest. Democracy advocates the freedom of speech, choice and the right to a self government - ‘of the people by the people for the people.’ Democracy would be at well work, if and when all eligible citizens exercise their rights freely and fully without fear or favors.
Needless to say come the 12th PBU and after 50 years of self-ruled, the physical development the nation has achieved has completely blinded some immature political leadership. Elected representatives known to have more time pursuing their self esteem rather than servicing their electorate. As a result they lack empathy on people’s need as championed by their fore bearers. It affected the trust of the electorates. As a result citizen’s right of democratic freedom as a whole at stake. Greed breeds contempt. Some deliberately demanded for their right. Others deceitfully challenged the democratic process for their very own political agenda. The once self proclaimed town criers positioned themselves as self styled champions of the people. Their political campaigns ruthlessly fused with hatred. They confused the electorates with claims of the nonexistence of established democracy for a just society, breeding political divide amongst nation. Preposterous prepositions by some political leaders resulting on hardcore political aspirants resorting to unlawful tactics to garner supports. Rampant money politics breeds greedy hypocrite amongst bystanders. Money talks and empty promises, erroneous and unjust political manifestos could easily swayed weak electorates.
At the end of the day, for right or wrong, it’s the people’s choice. Democratic government prevails on citizen collective preferences. Democracy works well if and when all deserving citizens rightfully exercise their rights.
Will you?

A Black Friday For The Skipper

It was supposed to be the D-day for CheOm. We all believed so. He was challenged to a street fight by a silat exponent from Kampung Seberang and to everyone’s surprise he willingly accepted the challenge. His action soon became the focal point of discussion in The Malay Reserve Land. Close family members reasoned with him on his course of action, to which he strongly admitted that his credibility was at stake and he should not retreat. He explained what really transpired between him and his abuser that he resorted to the course of action. Although most of his close associates and the kampong folks willfully adored him for his bravely, but at the same time they also despised him for his astounding act.

They labeled him as a thickheaded bloke unmindful of the consequences. The fight could turn ugly, and he could be seriously injured or being killed.

Father was upset right on the onset, worried a tragedy would be felled the family. Father most regretted CheOm’s stance to confront a silat exponent for the street fight. Father knew too well that Che’Om was not a fighter, as what most people thought he was. He was just a boaster, a showoff, like to brag on himself. Above all he was a harmless and a loving individual.

Father promised the family that he would at the utmost try to negate the untoward incident by whatever means he could. Mother was worried at the course of action father would undertake, for mother knew too well father’s obstinacy. Mother pleaded that father should not get involved with other people’s business. But father think otherwise. CheOm was a close relative, as well his childhood buddy. In times of troubles CheOm needed all the support from those around him, especially from his relatives and close friends. To that father thought he was duty bound to help whatever he could. The Bugis decent has been known to protect each other in time of needs.

Father reasoned; that person was an outsider. He was arrogant. His horrendous bullying act was most despicable. That type of character had no right to be in our midst. According to father, the challenged fight was only the beginning (the tip of the iceberg). He believed that there was an agenda to it. According to father, there was this well known Maha Guru from Jawa Tegah, Indonesia responsible for the security and the safety of most in Kampung Seberang during the height of the bloody Bintang Tiga rule. He had since returned back to his homeland, leaving a vacuum in the silat hierichy of Kampung Seberang. A Maha Guru was a man of honor, commanded a supreme position and respected by various communities. After he left, the title aspired most of his protégé. The aspirants competing for the honor created splinter group among them. Some resort to bullying tactics to garner new followers, while others indulged using force spreading their influences to the neighboring communities. Father knew, CheOm’s challenger, was one of the aspirants from Kampong Seberang. He was looking for a scrape goat targeting new influence from the Malay Reserve Land.

To most CheOm was a goodhearted person. He was one of the kinds that easily befriended anyone, despite the different in age or status. As he was a generous contributor he was elected as the patron of our village Silat Group. The recognition landed him into trouble.

To begin with, the news of the newly formed Silat Group in our village had reached Kampung Seberang. It gave ideas to this particular silat aspirant. He came to town to harass the new silat leader. He found CheOm.

One fine afternoon while CheOm was having coffee at Pakcik Harun’s Coffee Shop by the pier, this person, for unknown reason insulted him and challenged him to a fight. In jest CheOm told him off, saying that he would only accept a challenge to a fight for a reason. To that the person resigned, but still hang around the Coffee Shop.

CheOm was delighted on the recourse. He called for a round of Kopi O, and started to brag about his skill in shining his leather shoes, using his secret portion of lime mixed with Kiwi Shoe Polish and his own saliva. Jokingly he claimed that his pair of shoes would have a lasting shine, and could at any time be used as a mirror. With that he raised his feet high for others to view, at the same time offering his drinking colleagues to use it as a mirror. However his act was short lived. Unfazed his adversary took the opportunity again to challenge him for a second time. He kicked CheOm’s feet and vigorously stepped on his shining shoes. CheOm quick to retort that it was a childish act. If the so called silat exponent wanted a fight, he should be brave enough to step on his songkok instead. To this the man grabbed CheOm’s songkok and threw it to the ground.

“I dare you, step on it,” CheOm dared the man. “I will if you don’t fight me,” replied the man, for he knew that CheOm was no match for him, but winning the fight meant a lot for his influence in the Malay Reserved Land.

CheOm accepted the challenge.

The time was fixed for the showdown – the following Friday afternoon. The venue was at Kedai Luar by the pier at an open space near the bus stand. The news spread like wild fire. Supporters from the Malay Reserve Land turn out in droves. Never the local mosque overflowed for the day’s Friday noon prayer. Father forbid me to go to town that afternoon. He had me confined to the house under close supervision of mother and my elder sister. Father convinced mother that our kampong folks would be ready to support CheOm, if the fight went out of hand. Secretly I saw father, took along his ‘tumbuk lada’ a small dagger used to be carried in person those days for personal safety. We all respected father’s decision and prayed that no untoward incident be felled him.

So that was what it was.

To our delight, father came back late that night unhurt. Actually there was no fight. After a verbal face-off both parties decided to settled their grouses on the advice of the local OCS ( Officer Incharge Of Police Station). The feud ended with a ‘Majlis Berdamai’ over nasi kunyit and coffee at Harun’s Coffee Shop.

Although the onlookers and supporters from both sides were not happy on the onset as they missed an interesting bout, they were also scared of the police actions as warned earlier by Sargent Mat Dom.

The tide was low for the last boat trip to Kampung Seberang that evening. Nabun the skipper was impatiently waiting at the end of the jetty to ferry those supporters from across river.

And while all the disappointed supporters were walking down the jetty ‘gangway’ into the boat, in jest Nabun poke fun at them by saying:“Masa datang tadi semua garang macam harimau. Masa balik semua tunduk macam pengecut.” (On arrival all looked fierce like tigers, now all lame like losers.)

Nabun’s comment offended one of the over zealous supporter. He gave a hard punch on Nabun’s chest. Nabun staggered and dropped some 30 feet down the jetty. He was stuck into the muddy river bed. Nabun had to be hauled up by using a long rope to the amusement all those along the pier.

It was a black Friday for Nabun the skipper.

HUTAN MELINTANG

The Town As I Saw It

I have lots to write about this small town where I grew up some 67 years ago. I am still fond of it, although presently it has backtracked as it was never before - rustic, underdeveloped, and totally forgotten.

To most ‘hutan’, literary meaning ‘jungle’. It is not so and never was. Before Merdeka it was a thriving feeder Port-of-call for steamers plying the Straits Of Melaka. Hutan Melintang situated on the Perak bank of Bernam River was linked by tarmax road to another costal town Bagan Datoh 16 miles south and Teluk Anson 12 miles north on the upstream of Perak River with connecting trunk railway networks that span the West Coast of Peninsular Malaya, from Singapore in the south to Padang Besar in the north. At Gemas junction the railway lines branched out to Kelantan of the eastern frontier border with Thailand on the East Coast. Prom Padang Besar in the north the trunk railway lines connected to Thailand rail transportation system through the Isthmus Of Kra to Bangkok the capital city of Thailand pulling coaches laden with tin ores, rubber and copra and other goods of trade.

Bernam River spanned from Ulu Bernam some 30 miles to the Straits of Melaka. Both its banks saw a massive early development of Coconut Estates by European Companies, and hundreds of small holders coconut plantations of Malay Reserved Lands. Thus Hutan Melintang seaport handles copra and rubber for world export, through Penang and Singapore. As a triving feeder Port, The British Malaya Administration had put in place complete facilities of a fully fledged seaport town to facilitate the import and exports of goods.

I am sad to note that Hutan Melintang on Post Merdeka period, was not even included in the country’s main stream massive development plan. It has become a rustic town, that nobody cares. It’s more like a remote Bagan, i.e landing area for fisherman catch. It does not even entitled to be named Fisherman Warf, as it lack the amenities to qualify itself to that status. Slowly it lost its luster and faded to obillivion. Personally speaking, the present day Hutan Melintang has taken its toll for the worst.

The once bustling pier busy with double decked and engine powered passenger boats ferrying people and goods from and to nearby village towns dotting the Perak and The Selangor banks of Bernam River, downstream to Sungai Air Tawar, Sungai Tengar, Bagan Sungai Lang, Bagan Sungai Tiang or upstream Kampung Teluk Buluh, Sabak Bernam Town, Kampung Kota, Kampung Sungai Samak and Sepong Estate. or small sampans rowed by boatmen servicing ship captains and sailors of the costal steamers on anchor in the midstream, for a day trip to Teluk Anson fulfilling their lust for entertainments at the local Bars & Brothels after long confinements on the high seas.

I remember, way back in the fifties and the sixties the town was bustling with activities right from the first dawn till late midnight. The arrival of the last shedulled passenger bus service from Teluk Anson passed midnight closed the curtain for the day's activity. Hutan Melintang was a small town well planned by the then BMA Government, putting in place a complete and proper governing infrastructure of a feeder port of call complete with Custom & Excise Office, Marine Police Post, Harbor Master’s Office, an efficient Post Office, Balai Penghulu, including luxury quarters for personnels. I still remember a small one room brick house next to the new Mosque, the Town Padang, the Post Office and the Balai Penghulu; where my buddy Jalaluddin used to live, as his father was a ‘boat man’ attached to the Harbor Master’s Office.

There was this popular waterfront at Kedai Luar where locals as well some passerby travellers of all race mingled freely all day. It was our popular 'lepak' point all evening savoring the scenic view of distant river mouth from wide angles. (Once in 1970. I took a film crew for location shoot RTM Telemovie of the Anjang Aki fame.)

There was a bus stand managed by Pakcik Karim, where local gossip exchanged and passed from ear to ear. Sooner those undated gossips would spread like wild fire to the delights of many. Once a month the MFU (Malay Film Unit) would screen some locally produced Film Newsreels together with some British Newsreels of PatheNews Production to the delights of the locals at an ajecent outdoor clearing. Rohani B the famous Bangsawan Primadona, had for a couple of times passed through for an overnight appearence at some stageshows across the river to the excitements of some local Romeos for a glimpse of her beauty. Celebrities SM Salim, Normah Salim, Ibrahim Din later joined by Mat Kambing on a few occations staged Planta Magrine roadshow campaign event on a small clearing at the foot of the jetty. (A decade later in 1965 I hosted S.M Salim show at Cathay Cinema in Kuala Trengganu for Trengganu Badminton Association Fun Raising Function. During my tenor as senior Directorate Member of RTM, S.M Salim ( now Tan Sri) was a close professional collegue). Others include Wak Malaya the infamous Travelling Shaman (the character as depicited by dramatist Dato'Syed Alwi in his award winning play TOK PERAK.( During my RTM days, I produced TOK PERAK as a special blogbuster Made For TV Movie catapulting Allahyarham Ahmad Marbawi as a renown charactor actor.)


Also next to the jetty was Harun’s Coffee Shop built on still that protruded out to the river, popular with local fishermen, boatmen, and gangster like street urchins. There was also Ah Fatt ice kacang stall, where we used to buy our ‘ais kepal’ to be suck all way home from school and the newly built Dewan Orang Ramai (Town Hall) that could accommodate less that 50 standing audience, watching my first stageplay IBU KANDUNG debut in 1961. (In 1962 IBU KANDUNG was staged on the 60th anniversary SITC/MPSI Tanjung Malim, a royal performance event attended by His Royal Highness The Sultan Of Perak. I was honored as the playwright and as the director of the stageplay.)

At Kedai Dalam there was this Romeo Barber Shop frequent by most for the latest P.Ramlee's or MGRamacandran a South India movie idol's hairstyle cut. Then there was this Chinese Tample by the river bank. At certain time of the year it would stage Chinese Beijing Operas in its makeship theater. It was not the costumed plays staged most afternoon and into the night that attract us, but the beavy of pretty starlets actress and chorus girls, housed in a temporary camps backstage near the river banks. The few would braved the odds to hang around the backstage area, for a sneak preview of those beauties in their dressing rooms. The Chinese Beijing Opera shows performed by The Hongkong Dramatic Troupe was another form of entertainments comming to town, compared to the sheduled twice a week open air travelling cinemas at two ajacent Rubber Estates, or the alternate sunday outdoor screening of western films by Taukeh Ah Chong Family on the compound of his residence, also the once a month MFU screening of Government Propoganda Films, plus of course the of and on events of SM Salim&Gang gags sponsered by PLANTA or the regular visits of Shaman Tok Perak.

Personally speaking, this little town was a springboard to my future life endavours. My gateway town to the world at large. Hutan Melintang was where I grew up, before I venture out to most part of Malaysia (from Perlis to Sabah), and the world at large during the later part of my life.

Originally this town some 2 Square Kilometers in size was divided to 2 parts known to the locals as Kedai Luar and Kedai Dalam. Kedai Luar was more of Government Administrative Centre, and Kedai Dalam consisted of Retail Shopping areas, fisherman’s wharf, stores and residential areas.There was this big Godown Building deviding the 2 town sectors. It was an 'out of bound' bonded zone where import and export goods were stored and checked by the authorities. Taukeh Ah Chong's company managed the godown.To the local he was the richest business tycoon in the region. His new bunglow house complete with 'special green coloured' cemented batminton court stand majestically in the very center of the town awed by many and a landmark to most. As a school boy the white 2 story brick bunglow inspired my wildest dream of living in one. As a village lad, I used to daydream the comfort of bunglow living. I adored the warm interior and the fenced and gated compound as befitting a palatial residence of only the rich and the royals, that no ordinary peasant like most of us would be able to own one for the rest of our lives.

Call it an impulse or a boy's wild daydream that any sound mind dreaded even to share with others. But that was what it was.  In school I once modeled a bunglow house like it, as my palatial residence for my school 'art and craft' project, not realising  'with Allah blessing' some 20 years later I owned one exactly like it in Petaling Jaya at my prime age 36 years old.

Not bad for a kampong boy childhood daydream... eh?

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.