Visiting Cairo

Cairo is the city I had been yearning to go. I learnt about its greatness from school texts since I was young. Its ancients civilization, pyramids, biblical stories, phroahs' rule, al azhar,salahuddin al ayobi, the fitimid empire,tomb raiders,  syed qutb, etc, put Cairo as the top priority among must go  places.

Upon arrival at Cairo international airport, I know instantly that I was in  a third world country.The airport clearance was tedious and time consuming , the traffic was busy and chaotic and I was accosted by a numbers of people who offered assistance for tips in American dollars.The run down taxi drove me to downtown city center, and dropped me and my wife at the roadside along a busy street,on which our hotel was situated. After struggling with our luggage we were relieved to check into a double bed room with a balcony which was not a bad accommodation for the price we paid. As our room was right in the middle of the downtown, we could see the milling crowd below. It was already 10 pm at night and the street was alive with people, and we felt  that could be a good time to feel the city's atmosphere.

The city street was crowded city folks doing shopping, chit-chatting on the sidewalk,shopping, drinking coffee, or just walking about, enjoying the chill air. The architecture of the downtown was European and the people dressed themselves well, and that make me feel I am walking about in some western city downtown.The people were courteous and were conscious of visitors, so I got friendly hellos and polite nods as we walked. A few would stop to ask where we came from, and once I said from Malaysia, they showed their interest wanting to acquaint more with us.From the brief conversation with people on the street, I know them to be well read, well informed and willing to help out.

Cairo streets were bustling with people whose main preoccupation was to earn a living.Taxi drivers , petty traders, commission agents, touts and street peddlers were everywhere selling things like perfumes, train tickets, hotel accommodation, breads , etc.Despite the hectic appearance, the people were relaxed and were willing to engage in  conversation which centered around how difficult life was in the city. The cafes serving Turkish coffee were crowded with people sitting down over cups of coffee for hours .If not in the cafe, they would be on the sidewalk, chatting and sitting down oblivious of the busy life on the street, and resigned to life as it comes.                                                                                                      


There were too many  places of interest to see in and around Cairo and it was impossible to give full account on this blog.The Cairo Eygptian Museum was the greatest museum for eyghtology with impressive collection of 5000 years of civilisation. It will take a person a couple of days to go through the huge collections of 5000 years of human civilisation. One day was not enough to cover the whole museum as the collection was too immense. The bust of Tatunkamum casted in gold was the top display admired for the beauty of ancient craftmenship..Then there were mummies of great kings, artifacts in stones and metal explaining the ancient history of Eygpt back into time making Louvre and Rome look very recent.

The Old Cairo at Maydan Hussein and the Al Azhar reminded visitors of old day Cairo.The citadels witnessed Cairo great history as governed by Mamluk, the Fatimid, Kamal Pasha , Salahuddin and other great conquerors. Then there were the pyramid at Gaza, the Sphinx, the Nile river, Heliopolis,Zamlud, etc.

Maydan Tahrir, where massive demonstration that brought down Mubarak took place ,was focal point of the city where all roads,underground train  and traffic converge , making this place into meeting points of people.I spend quite a lot of time here just walking about and looking at people.

 Unlike many third world city, Cairo was well served by an efficient and cheap underground network of trains.For just one Eygptian pound the underground could take you to so many places.From the numerous metro train public transport, even though rickety,  can take to many places including the central station from where the train would go to Aswan and Alexandria.

Al Azhar-the madieval remains at al Qahirah

From downtown Cairo, I took the efficient Cairo underground train to Ataba, then hopped on a taxi to Maydan Hussein which is the centre for Al Azhar. This place is also known as al Qahirah, from which the name Cairo is derived and built by the Fatimid 1000 years ago. It  looks very medieval,with narrow crowded streets,huge middle east bazaar, tall minarets and original islamic architecture . Al Azhar mosque,Hussein mausoleum and Khalili market dominate this place.

It was Al Azhar mosque that led me to this place as it has been the oldest university in the world and  the ivy league of Islamic learning for Malay religious student  for ages. Any scholar who had studied at Al Azhar would be highly regarded and properly placed by the Malays in their social hierarchy  and would become an ulama in the society. Even before stepping his foot on Al azhar , the whole kampung would celebrate his departure with kenduri and doa. Parents would be eager to engage their daughter to a boy going Al Azhar and the richer one would go further by financing his studies.Such is the respect accorded on Al Azhar boys in Malaysia then.

As I entered the mosque I was welcomed by a large tiled rectangular courtyard.Bordering the courtyard was an open arcade for resting, waiting , studying and sleeping.The arcade leads to classrooms for religious classes and each class is separated from one another with partitions.As there were no chairs or tables and students would sit on the floor.The atmosphere at the mosque courtyard was serene and quite, very much different of the hustle bustle of the market streets outside.Some religious students were seen on the terrace , alone or in study group,mugging  the old religious texts or having group discussion by themselves .The student studied by rote devouring some battered Arabic text and when they formed study group it was for the mastery of the text . I peeked into the classroom and saw a teaching session in progress.  Anyone can walk into the classroom to listen, so in the class I saw students of different age group.I was told by an Indonesian student that the scholar giving the religious lecture in this class was a renowned cardiac surgeon.It looks like teaching is  a one way traffic  with the scholars imparting what he knew and the students absorbing as passive listeners.There was not much of learning, only teaching and passive listening.This must be the only way knowledge has been dessimenated to future ulamas  for ages and our sekolah pondok must have got their inspiration from here.Most of the students at the mosque were from Malaysia and Indonesia  and I hardly seen any Arab looking faces among them, except some walk in Arabic ladies.

I spoke with students from Kelantan and  Kedah  about their life after classes.It seemed that there is no distraction that that can lead them away for around Al Azhar there nothing ,even open space or sports complexs and these students  don't live like their counterparts in Malaysia.Their focus is on religion and that make them very motivational to stay at the mosque to study. After their study, they go back to their hostel which is their home in Cairo named after their states eg Kelantan House, Kedah House, where they find solace within their own tribe.Our boys in my neighbourhood in Petaling Jaya could never live this life without going to video arcade, mamak stall, jamming studios, shopping complex ,etc,etc.

I walked across the road to Hussein Mausoleum, which was housed in an imposing mosque that can accommodate about a 1000 worshipers. The mausoleum itself was in a special chamber within the mosque, where Hussien's severed head was entombed.Husein's body was burried in Karbala where he was killed, but his head was brought by his follower to Cairo. The Syiah sect regarded Hussein with the highest reverence and they displayed their  emotions when they visit their iman's mausoleum.. They not only prayed at the mausoleum but kissed the the mausoleum doors, gates, fences and pillars with deepest affection. The Syiah had been saddened by Husein's death  and even after 1300 years their grief had not abated.

Nearby was Khan Khalili, the biggest open market in Cairo , selling almost everything a household may need, but not much on high tech gadgetry for I couldn't find the card reader for my laptop.Visitors to the market were accosted by shopkeepers and harassers to buy their merchandise and customers must be ready to drive a hard bargain to get a fair price.

Around Al Azhar , there were many more monuments and historical artifacts that testify to the greatness of Al Azhar as the influential centre of Islamic leaning and civilization.This place is archaic, from the buildings, the narrow bazaar,  to the dress of the Arab scholars. I saw many European tourists sitting down in the arcade cafe at the market square, romanticing  and immersing in madieval exotic.

Rinjani in Lombok

I landed in Denpasar when it was almost midnight.I was in a group called orang gunung and our trip was for the purpose of climbing Gunung Rinjani,the highest mountain in the Malay Archipelago at 12300 ft and the most beautiful. We were the last arriving passengers and we proceeded to the parking lot to look for the van that would take us to Padang Bai, the embarkation port to Lombok.Before midnight ,we boarded  the ferry,  I  found myself a cozy corner  and was soon fast asleep helped by the cool sea breeze and choppy sea. At sunrise the ferry arrived at Lombok and we took the van to Rinjani base camp which was a three hour journey from the port.

From the van, Lombok appeared to me very rural with activities centering around agriculture, mainly paddy farming. The kampungs that we passed through looked clean and the farm well tendered. The van weavered through the country road passing through winding remote villages, steep slope and deep ravines. We reached Rinjani base station on the eastern side of the island, where all Rinjani hikers must report themselves and the hiking groups were each assigned mountain mountain guides .

We started the climb after lunch, ascending slowly  through meadow of long and soft grasses.The landscape was undulating and was  never boring with features shaped by volcanic activities. As we climbed higher we got a majestic view of the mountain and valley.The scene was beautiful with uninterrupted vista  and the air was fresh and cool.At night fall we reached  the first camping spot  , a deep valley shaped by larva rivers,where we set up tents and  spent the night.

The next day, we resumed our journey . It was not an easy climb this time as the gradient got steeper.There was not much vegetation except clump of coniferous trees and patches of grasses and old dead trunks ravaged by larva flow..Ranjini is an active valcano littered with rocks hurled by explosions and steeped crevices chiselled by larva stream .The topography looked bleak with patches of trees and grasses.But the view was panaromic since there were no tall trees that hide our view.Although the slope was steeper than the day before, our climb was leisurely as we slogged along slowly to the next station. By late afternoon, we reached our second camping site at the edge of the crater called Pelawangan at 9500 ft.

The crater rim where we camped was a narrow ridge plunging to great depth into the crater lake beneath. The view at this height was postcard like with the crater lake Danau Segara before our eye.The crater lake was huge and placid and in its midst is an island with smoking volcano named Gunung Baru, making Gunung baru a volcano within the volcano. On the horizon was the blue Bali Sea and beyond the sea,  Gunong Agong in Bali, the most sacred of the Hindu site, rose majestically in Bali.The night was cold with howling wind that fluttered our canvas sheet and sent shivers to us .In that condition , plus the high altitude rarefied air,it was impossible to light up fire for cooking. That night, we managed to cooked half boiled rice and  I went to bed on empty stomach.

At around 2 am we woke up to begin the final ascent of Gunung Ranjini reaching the peak as the sun rose over the sea..We enjoyed the stunning view for a short while before making our descend.


We continued our way back to the  camping site at Pelawangan , dismantled our camps and made our way down to the crater lake  Segara Anak.At one spot I found traces of old cloth and plastic mats and asked the guide what was that.The guide said seven local climbers encountered bad weather and died of exhaustion and hyperthemia on the spot and local custom forbidded their  belongings from being removed.The crater lake Segara Anak was the most holy site for Bali Hindus second only to Gunung Agung.The Bali Hindus believed that mountains are where their deities reside and made offering to appease their deities to stop catastrophe like volcanic  eruption,  drought season and bad weather .Where we camped there were litters of prayer offerings.The lake was placid and almost surreal .The water was not suitable for drinking as it is highly sulfurous,but there were plenty of fish in the lake.There were hot springs, waterfall and a cave with an ascetic doing meditation, but I didn't visit those places for the lack of time. This was a nice place to be , with an excellant camping site by the lake shore, lots of fish which we grilled over fire and  stunning landscape in its pristine state.

When the sun rose the next morning, I was ready to make my the most arduous task of the expedition, that was climbing the steep rocky alpine slope from Segara Anak to the other side of the crater rim at Senaru Crater rim.After 4 hours of climb, exhausted I reached the crater rim , rewarded with a picturesque view of Segara Anak and Gunong Baru, exactly  the same image on the rupiah note of the Indonesian currency.


The rest of the journey for the next 5 hours, we walked through patchy grass slope, semi alpine forest and lush tropical jungle teeming with birds , butterflies and wild fowls.. We reached the Sasak village of Senaru when it was  almost dark .The traditional village was circular in shape with well built sturdy houses of wood and palm leaves and no nails. The Sasak lived in a well contained community and appeared  to be well organised with their own social structure and a system of belief  I was told that although most Sasak has practiced mainstream muslim religious practice, the Sasak  who lives in villages like Senaru are adherent to wektu telu, a form of Islamic practices that prays only 3 times a day and practising animism at the same time.It was late at night that our bus arrived and took us back to Mataram.,the last Hindu kingdom in the Nusantara.

Tanah Tinggi Minahasa-Tempatnya cantik dan orangnya mesra

 http://picasaweb.google.com/armohd10/Manado#

It was raining heavily at Menado when I alighted the bus to Tomohon., a town in the heartland of the Minahasa Highland. Tomohon is an important missionary town situated between two plateaus of active volcanoes,  Lukon and Gunong Mahawu . The journey reminded me of similar trip to Kundasan Sabah with winding road along the green mountain side and picturesque villages dotting the mountain slopes. The topography is the same except in the case of Kundasang the backdrop is dominated  by the mighty Kinabalu, but in Minahasa, the skyline is dotted by cone shaped volcanic peaks, sulphuric volcanic fissures, thermal springs , lakes, and deep valleys. Being at high altitude and greener,  the air is cool and refreshing.

The Minahasan themselves are of similar resemblance to the people of Kundasang. They are fair skinned, agrarian, rural, of Christian faith and friendly disposition. At Tomohon I stopped at a shop while waiting for the rain to subside, and just in front of the shop was a church where a wedding ceremony  was held. The wedding reminded me of a similar Christian Sabah, with the bride and the groom in coat and gown and the family and well wishers dressed western attire.

When the rain  abated, I hit  the road again .looking for a place to stay, As I walked along the main road  of the deserted street, a van stopped by and I hopped in to be taken to a lake  near Desa Lielem with the hope of getting an accommodation besides the crater lake.As there was no accommodation, I proceeded to Desa Lielem and met a man who was willing to accommodate me in his house and enjoyed the hospitality of my host.

The Minahasan at Lielem may look like rural folk, but they are open to outsiders and their world view is more global. They have worked abroad in places like Singapore, Malaysia  and  Hong Kong and the many Christian churches in Desa Lielem must have educate them well to understand the world beyond . They maintain a strong Minahasan culture and tradition with strong family and community bond. through social celebration and congressional mass. The first morning I was there I saw a gotong royong involving about 40 men constructing a kampung road, in the afternoor I listened a practising church  koir and late afternoon I attended a birthday party of my host' s friend.

The Minahasan are hardworking country folk earning a living from traditional economy based on their land , the jungle and their woodwork craft. The small market in Lielem is abundant with agricultural produce and forest products.Cottage industry is  making woodcarving and handmade furniture, which is an art and craft vocation..The Minahasan are aesthetic people enjoying artistic craft and  beautiful things and the womenfolk are clean complexioned and well dressed. They are proud of their wooden houses which they keep clean and adorned by well maintained flower garden.They like music and drink a kind of alcohol,similar to tapai, but brewed from palm sugar. It is easy to strike a conversation with them. I was at a coffee shop at the morning market, they came to talk to me as they can identify strangers amongst them  and are curious.

After two days at Lielem , as travelled along the winding country road to the airport, passing through scenic Danau Tandano , the padi fields and the clean kampungs of the Minahasan, I decided  that this is the place I would like to come again to escape the hustle bustle and immerse into the life style so different from that of a big city.

Bandung

It was with the intention of climbing Tengkuban Prahu, the lagendary mountain of Sang Kuriang, that I went to Bandung. There were 10 of us, the regular group that had been with me on numerous expeditions. This time the arrangement was loose. We bought our own ticket, travel at our convenient time, met at a venue in Bandung and set off to Tengkuban Prahu.But things did not look so simple in Bandung. We landed at different times, checked into different hotels, failed to communicate with one another because our handset did not work, and finally aborted our mountain climbing trip. Instead my friends went on a shopping and sightseeing trip of the city.

Afterall Tengkuban Prahu did not look as impressive from afar , unlike Gunung Agung or Rinjani. But Bandung was, indeed it was better than Jakarta and Medan in many ways.The city was clean and the roads were lined up with tall mahagony that form a huge canopy that shade the road.This give the city a cooler look, improved by the fact that Bandung , at higher altitude, was already a few degrees cooler. The architecture of some of the buildings were colonial and well maintained.The campus of ITB had the look and atmosphere of the old university campus,with beautiful rustic building and open green spaces.The railway station was a colonioal structure, having a well organised look, and didnt seem to have a milling crowd typical of such stations in Indonesian cities, although it was located right in the city centre.

The people in Bandung looked clean and having good complexion.They expressed a relaxed temperament and didnot appear to be moving about in a hurry making you feel confortable interacting with them.Most people I met said they were the Sundanese, which is different from the Javanese of the rest of Java. They had their language, culture and were stauchly Muslim ,considering themselves highly cultured and polished.They are basically agrarian, earning their living from the land planting padi and vegetables. Their food was healthy ,very much eaten raw and semi cooked and they had a lot of vegetables in their diet. I was told by Indri, my Indonesian friend who accompanied me, the Sundanese looked better and more healthy because the food they eat make them so.Keeping healthy had been very much in their lifestyle as indicated by numerous jamu peddlers and tradional massage services.They were basically honest as I didnt feel I had been overly charged and I didnt have to haggle for a price.

I went to the cultural village where I saw the cultural performance. The performers were dancers and musicians.They played in a gamelan orchestra, but angklong was the common instrument. Children were taught musical instrument and dance steps since they were very young.Parents accompanied their children to the dance and music classes, staying the length of the training indicationg that they were committing their whole effort to making their dance and musical heritage carried over into the next generation.Their musical tradition and dance steps were not Javanese but dintictively Sundanese.

Bandung had turned itself into a shopping paradise as indicated by shopping complex of all types selling licenced branded clothings and dresses, the busana muslim kind of fabrics.People from Jakarta came to Bandung during weekends to shop and unwind. But people on the street were not well dressed, I mean they did not appear to me very fashionable, even the young didnot look very chics.

We didnt climb Tengkuban Prahu this time. I didnt make this trip into a meaningful journey. My stay was too short.For a city this rich in history and culture I should have discovered more. Perhaps next time.

Bali

Top picture is a fire dance performed as a daily ritual at sunset, and next to it are the puras.
The garden of Hindu King Parman is in a serene setting depicting heavenly abode of the king.

I was very fascinated by the Bali's Hindus and would consider them having complex society , belief system and culture that work very well for them. I have been to many places in the Nusantara, and it is Bali that I considered authenthic Nusantara practicing belief and rituals and living life uniquely Nusantara . The rest of the Nusantara, the influence of Islam which have brought along with it Middle Eastern cultural element and its society have consumed them wholesale , many traces of local belief, tradition and customs has been eroded and would finally be buldozed by the islamic movement, for otherwise to practice such belief would be considered unislamic.

The Bali people are very ritualistics, more ritualistic than the Hindus in Malaysia. Prayer offerings are done obediently many times a day and the offerings are elaborately hand crafted pandan or kelapa leaves , and that itself is a labour of love towards god. The offering are placed in the pura, but they can be placed at any places where the spirit can feast. The puras are meticulously maintained and is the centre around which the Balinese religious and social life activities evolve.The puras are everywhere, even rooftop are turned to puras. Going into puras with its 7 half gate is like transcendenting from worldly earth into cosmic realm. One leaves behind one's world trapping as one leaves each gate and finally when one reaches the inner gate, it would be only him in his extreme purity form and God to he devotedly pray.This is the religous experoence a Bali Hindu goes through when he enter the sactuaty of God.


Bali have many visual and performing artforms that the Baliness pursue with talent and creativity.Bali paintings and engraving depict the Balinese life in religion, social and pursuit of economic activities. Its ritualistic dances are entralling drawing theme from Ramayana, local folklore and spiritual belief. Its architecture is harmonious with its environment , and its garden blend well into the lush tropical landscape.Everybody is an artist expressing himself limitlessly in a variety of forms and genre.

Bali has also organises its society well in traditional government that enable itself to resolve conflict and moves with progress.Every Balinese is a member of a community to which he must subscribe his allegiance and follow its social norms. A non conformist is rare and is sanctioned and the community's effort gets the support of the community members. The Balinese are polite with one another and would not disturb the prescribed order. Many other rural society in the Nusantara are practising the same system, but for a place as cosmopolitan and commercialised as Bali, the Balinese are unperturbed by the imported touristic cultures to live on with their traditions.

Versailles

The palace and its immaculate garden sit on a large tract of land that also contain the hunting ground of the king.The interior wall and ceiling are decorated with the work of masters of the era. The city of Versailles itself is lined with trees, decorated with gardens, well connected to Paris through a regular train and having good restaurants serving French cuizine.

The King of France must have been a maniac to build such a palace for himself. It was a gigantic , even compared to the Buckingham Palace and the Forbidden City. As I wonder in amazement at the sheer size of the buildings and the palace ground, my thought brought me home to Malay rulers palaces in Malaysia such as Istana Kenangan in Kuala Kangsar and Istana Sri Menanti in Pilah, which to more a practical abode but to the king of France would merely would regard as a hut. In the mind of the kings of France a palace like Versailes was the testimony that France was the most powerful, rich, cultured and ferared nation on earth to have deserve such a palace

The next day I had the oppurtunity to go through a special guide who nerrated to me about the life in the palace.The interior was much more flourishing than the exterior as the most modern decors of the era, the best paintings, the latest furniture and exquisite artwork are on display in all parts of the palace. As the King , particurly Louise the 16 is the passionate patron of arts, every artifects is the work of arts. It again reflect France as the centre of world's arts and culture.

Regardless of the materials riches that surround King Louis in his palace, The King as it appreared to me was never a settled personality. He was paraniod about losing his grip on France and its far flung empires. He was wary of the intrique in the palace that comes from palace courts and relatives. Most of the times he was a lonely figure, seldom in contact with even the wife and the kids.France and its empire was a burden on Louise and he slept little as the enemies were at the gates. He hardly left the palace, and as a result he lost control over France , and finally it was the enemy within, that was the people of France that threw the monarchy and established a republican France.

The day before my operation.

Two days to my bypass surgery. The weekend that had just passed was uneventful.I stayed home most of the Saturday framing up pictures and later on Sunday , my brothers and sisters came over to say good luck and wished me all the best.I felt I got the support to face the task ahead.

That Monday I went to work. I talked with a few friends in the canteen and told some friends at work about my pending surgery. I met my staff in the morning meeting, and visited Dr Yong who gave strong words of encouragement.I feel good about this surgery.

I had a good lunch with Hamzah ,but didnt say anything about the surgery.I ran errands drawing money from my deposit for some payments and later in the evening went for an hour workout in the park. I felt like nothing is happening.

My wife on the other hand looked very worried. She had informed all her friends and brothers of my surgery , and they have organised prayers for my wellbeing. I felt very touched. and even sinful for not praying to God for my own wellbeing. Deep in my heart I felt I should.

I had taken this surgery in a matter of facts manner.I have convinced myself that surgery is the best option for me, and am positive that it would work, afterall it is the surgeon who said that the chance of a sucessful operation is 99%. I had accepted that the 1 % risk is something I am going to take, and I submit to the fate and God's wishes.

Banda Aceh

Banda Ache is one of the oldest city in Nusantara with an impressive history that makes the Acehnese very proud of being an Acehnese Throughout history, the Aceh had been an imperial power and had fought very hard to resist imperialistic control imposed on them.The kingdom had suffered tremendous setbacks through wars and fightings, and recently the most destructive force of the Tsunami had struck Aceh causing almost a quarter of a million loss of life in Aceh.

Three years after Tsunami, Banda Aceh has been build again on the rubble of collapsed houses , buildings and other infrastructures.The roads are busy and the markets are doing brisk businesses. Daily life appears as if no Tsunami had ever hit Aceh.Masjid Raya Baitul Rahman is active and alive with activities ranging religious classes to officiating marriages. Indeed there was a film crew at work on commercials at the court. The god fearing Acehnese has taken the tragedy that hit them as god an omen that they must be more pious in their devotion to Allah and believe that a bigger tragedy may befall on them.

Masjid Raya Baitul Rahman is an icon in Acehnese life. Baitul Rahman stands for Acehnese resolute spirit. Whilst all other structure were swept away by tidal force, Baitul Rahman remain unscathed. It stands like a rock- strong, beautiful and placid amidst all chaos. According to the Acehnese, when Tsunami swept Banda Aceh destructing everything in its path, the raging wave just stopped at Baitul Rahman. Both in form and in spirit, Baitul Rahman is an inspiration. It is the most beautiful architectural form ever constructed, the most historical mosque of the Nusantara , providing guidance to generations of Acehnese.Its inside evokes spiritual callings and grip one with calmness and reverence to God. The mosque is active with religious and scholarly activities. In the tradition Masjidul Haram koranic classes and religious discourse are eagerly taught in every nook and corners of the mosque.Students are eager to learn and teachers are impatient to teach and they go on all days .The Acehnese found solace in this mosque that restore their mental resolute to fight on.The Acehness are therefore not bragging when they referred Aceh as Serembi Mekah.

Despite their strength, I do believe the tragedy may be too much for some people who suffered great losses. It was subuh and I was at Baitul Rahman when I met this man strolling aimlessly. I striked a conversation and he started narrating his heart wrenching experience on the day Tsunami hit. He  was  swept by the tidal current for a few kilometers.When he gained consciousness, he was buried under a heap of tree trunks and rubbish, but managed to free himself despite his injury. He was saved by a rescue team but all his close relatives were lost. The trauma of near death and losses  are haunting him haunting him causing insomnia. There is no professional help for him and he nursed his pain alone. Many others must have traumatic experience and suffering in silence like him. The good thing for him is that he found some peace penning beautiful poems and prose, holding himself responsible for the fate that befall on his family members and accepting that whatever happened is the result of poetic justice at work, something of a therapy he administer on himself.

The mausoleum of Sultan Iskandar Muda stood conspicuously among the monuments of Aceh to attest to the greatness of the Aceh Kingdom he ruled. Under him Aceh was a regional superpower controlling provinces beyond current day Aceh in Peninsular Malaysia and Jawa. He initiated numerous attacks on Portugese Malacca, and on several occasions were close to sucess. He attacked Old Johore, punishing the Sultan for assisting the Dutch in takeover attempt on Portugese Malacca, and bringing the Johore Court to Aceh. He, like his predecessor, carried out the tradition of Islamic scholarship in Aceh, turning Aceh into a fertile ground for Islamic scholars. Islamic intellectuals like Hamzah Fansuri and Naruddin al Raniri found Aceh court accommodating to their intellectual mind ,making Aceh a centre for Islamic studies. Great Malay literary works were also produced in the Aceh  by Malay writers Tun Sri Lanang who wrote Sejarah Melayu. Aceh Sultanate not only encouraged flourishness of culture and arts, but had done something ahead of its times in international relations by sending a diplomatic mission to Turkey enlisting assistance from the Ottomon Kingdom in its attempt to fight the imperialist west in Nusantara.Taking into account its overall achievement, Aceh had indeed made a significant contribution and impact to the politics and socio-cultural life in the Malay World, and Sultan Iskandar Muda had played a big role in this.

Despite the choatic traffics,life moves on at slow pace at Banda Aceh.The people seem to take life at their leisurely pace  and that's the way they take the fate that had befallen on them. The people are friendly, aproachable and willing to engage in leisurely conversation with strangers.Despite their hostility towards Jakarta, Aceh people sees themselve as hospitable, welcoming not only the Javanese and other Sumatrans, but also from more distant shores like Turkey, India, Arab penisular and Europeans, who came since the turn of the century and had themselves becoming Acehnese.Natural calamities and prolong wars with the Dutch and Indonesia have made the people of Aceh into a resolute race who look forward to better Aceh t with the imminent political change that give them some little space for self rule.

Idilfitri in Kelantan

I was host to the revered Tuan Guru who dropped in casually at the kenduri in my Kelantan house.




This is the second time I spent my idilazhar in Kelantan. The first was in 1976, that was almost 30 years ago, when I took a long whole night ride on a passanger bus to Kota Bharu, just to meet a girl I like who become my wife now. That too was the beginning of my liking for Kelantan, which is my second home for all these years.

Idilazhar in Kelantan is different from any other states. The people celebrate the day with more activities. Wedding, kenduri, korban and family gathering take place on this day.I have only 3 days this time to be in Kelantan, but the days were full of activities and strong impression. The night we arrived we went to visit my wife's family at Kubang Palas. As there were so many houses to drop by, it was almost at midnight that we finished calling upon the must go family members and strenghteneing the family ties.Kelantan people are very good at nurturing family relationships and family members get support from one another in the life journey. I believe my wife, whose father deserted her with her single mother paddy farmer eking a peasant life from the land, would not be able to make it without the support of a host of extended family system. Under similiar circumstance in an urban society, my wife would not likely to pull herself out of the poverty trap and the utter backwardness of the kampung mind.

There were two weddings to attend. Unlike 30 years ago when I wed my wife, the ceremony and the celebration then were simple and basic.Now at one of the wedding, there were canopies , chair and tables for gusets to sit down and buffet style serving with better food. Despite that ,wedding ceremony was a more straightforward event if we compare with the one in Petaling Jaya or Kelana Jaya.There is no kompang, no bersanding, no elaborate decor, no fency canopy . no pari pari and certainly no red carpet and any other antics.The wedding in Kelantan should be the example of Malay wedding.It is meant to solemnise the couple as husband and wife and to announce to family members and friends of the reunion.By going away with those antics and elaborate practises typical in west coast marriage, and focusing on getting married, wedding cost in term of time and money can be reduced.Even by adhering to basics, a Kelantan marriage expenses that the boy will have to bear would be around RM 20,000 , and a similiar figure is likely to be spent by the girl. That would be 2 or 3 times more in the West Coast.

There was another kenduri I have to attend and this time at Kampung Laut at Nik Masturi's house. It was a aqikah by all the 6 brothers and sisters of Nik Mastura.I had known this family since 1972 when I was a university volunteer at Kampumg Laut. Mastura's mother Kak Ani, was a single mother with 6 children when her husband was killed in a road accident in 1971.She was an example of an independant and gutsy Kelantan women.Most single mother would ask assitance from the welfare to support her, but not with Kak Ani. She went into direct selling, buying and selling batik, keropok, clothings and jewellary in Kelantan and Kuala Lumpur.She managed to educate the children and support them at the start of their own life.She owned some properties including in Kuala Lumpur, whose beneficieries is her own children. Indeed the house she left behind in Kampung Laut is a nice bungalow, leaving it to Nik Mastura, the youngest of the siblings. Kak Ani was only one of the determined women in Kelantan I have known, for there were many others that I admire for their strong determination to suceed.

Will my father pull through this ?

At the top is the house I grew up which is now abandoned, and at the bottom is the run down kampung school where my father and I got our primary education.


Today is the sixth day my father is in ICU. His condition was no less better than six days ago when he was admitted.He was admitted for breathing difficulty resulting from lung infection.His old age at 87 makes recovery a daunting task.

I have always known my father as an easy going person who disliked suffering.If he got the choice he wouldnt want to be put in the ICU with tubes strapping his face and body and lying on the bed completely knocked down with sedation drugs.He would prefer all those tubes that connect to the life support machines be pulled out and let God decide on his fate.But technolgy had kept him alive, and his children were hopeful that the machines would help in turning him around , or at worse the machines would assist him in facing death less painfully.

I called my father occasionally just to test his response. He did respond through chattering his jaws as if he was answering me. He definitely had something to say to me, but no words could come out.His favourite word was my promise to bring him back to Sitiawan to spend the Hari Raya in his own house.This showed that my father was mentally alert.Last night when I visited him he was more alert than the previous night. This was because the doctor had stopped administering the drug making him more aware of the surroundings.

My brothers and sisters supported my father throughout this ordeal.My sister Nor had sacrificed the most, and my sister Ham showed up from Ipoh 6 days ago, and both were in constant vigil at the ward. My brother Latif did his best committing his time , money and energy to my father.Rodi and Man also visited my father and stayed by the bedside to confort him.Close relatives such as my auncles, aunties, nieceand nephews gave us support by turning up at the hospital. Looking at my father's helpless condition in bed was depressive for me.I used to know my father as a strong and happy man who had overcome many problems, especially in days he was struggling to bring us up.My father had many shortcomings, but he had some traits I admire-easy going, spontenous,taking life as it comes and fully devoted to family life. I hope my father would pull through this, and eventhough my father can last another 1 to 2 years, it was still worth it, as I wanted to be most intimate with my father.

On 7th September 2007, my father had spent seven days in ICU.We all agreed that seven days in ICU was too long a period for my father, but we were not giving up hope. I was in a dilemma what to do with my father.At last at about 300 PM we all decided that my father should not be supported by the incubator. It was a decisive moment for my father.All my sisters and brothers, including cousins and nephews assembled at the ICU ward to witness the the support system be removed from my father.It was a tense moment and we could only say our prayers. Soon after my father was breathing on his own. He was panting for breadth, but the blood pressure,pulse rate and oxygen level indicated that he was doing fine.We decided to move our father to a single bed room so that we could monitor his progress and gave him as much comfort.Throughout the night my father was short of breath. But he was responding to our call and was communicating minimally with us. He was aware of what was going on around him and acknowkledged me when I said something. I feel very close to my father at that time and was happy that he was not at the ICU.

The next day on 11th September, my father had not shown any improvement. He looked very weak as he was not being able to catch any sleep.His condition detoriated and at 400 PM my sisters and brothers agreed that my father should be taken home, My father was transferred home on an ambulance at 600 PM to Nor's house.When I reached Nor's house at 630 PM my father was already on bed with an oxygen mask. He was breathing very poorly. We went to the surau for maghrib and stayed at the mosque for Yasin. While waiting for isyak, my wife called me saying that my father's condition was extremely precarious. I rushed home to see that my beloved father was no more.

The following day my father's burial arrangement was organised by my brother in law Rosdi.I washed my fathers body, rubbing up his face and torso. Despite his long illness my father's body looked firm and strong.We took my father to the mosque for prayer and proceeded to the funeral ground for burial. It was the last service for my father as I helped to fill up the grave with earth and sat on the prayer mat during talkin which was recited by Rosdi.

Marstrand Island

Mastrand in Gothenburgh and the granite statue in front of my residence

August should have been hot in Gotherburgh, but not this particular summer week . It had been raining and windy. So that Saturday , when the sun was up and sunny, and Andre suggested that we should take the one hour drive to Marstrand, I just accepted his invitation.

When we arrived at the pier to Maastrand, there were already many people at the jetty. The ferry that took us through the narrow straits soon was full, and off we went to the island. There were sailing boats of all shapes and sizes in the channel and at anchor.They flew flags that indicated they were from distant shores-Norway, Denmark, Finland, Hollang, England , Germany.It was a bright sunny day and people were just relaxing and sunbathing on the boats and on the jetty.

The shops that lined up the Marstrand street were filled with people drinking and eating seafood . I walked past the shops toward the old fortress that dominated the island.

The castle was an important monument to the history of southern Sweden. It was an outpost protecting the southern border of Sweden from the marauding invaders particulrly the Danes. It sits on a hill and was built of solid rocks that looks impenetrable. The fortress itself saw some actions. When its roles as a fortress lost its significance, the fortress became a prison for convicts. Many history and local tales were made at the prison.

Climbing up to the highest point in the tower explained why this wind swept rock was chosen as the site for the castle. Beyond the island, for many miles the fortress commanded the view of incoming ships from distant land. It was a desolate lookout post for southern Sweden perched on a formidable hill surrounded by a channel of water that was tracherous to invading enemy ships.Even for prisoners, the fortress was an insurmountable stone wall on a barren island that would make any attempt at escape impossible. The prisoners must had had tough life crammed into small cell accomodating 20 prisoners each.Visitors like me were able to feel the life of the prisoners because the prison artifects and props were restored as close to real life of 300 years ago.

I spent close to 3 hours in the fortress listening to the recorded history of the fortress as I climbed the steps and walked the yards. Sweden indeed had an interesting history, taking stake in its neighbours' territory and fighting battles with its ambitious neighbours particularly the Danes and the fortress played an important role.

Back to modern times along he wharf,I chit chatted with a few boat owners. One man told me due to the cost it was impossible to own and maintain a boat by himself nowaday. So he co owned a boat with a few friends , organising themselves in the timesharing scheme. I met Bengt, a man from the same Company I was working , whom I had communicated a number of times through the phone, but never met in person. Bengt said his timesharing boat could accomodate 3 or 4 couples on a sailing trip that normally took him 1-2 weeks.Bengt loved the sea and had been sailing since young.The longest trip he ever made was to the West Indies, but that was many years ago, and now Bengt sailed the water around Gothengurgh.The Swedes , being the Viking ancestors, loves their boats and are proud to talk about their boat.

Semporna , Mabul and Sipadan

After almost 40 years I was visiting Semporna again.From Tawau, the road to Semporna was totally different. The jungle that lined the road had all been replaced by palm oil plantation. It was no more the gravel road and it was possible to zoom at 120km per hour reaching Semporna in a matter of two hours.

The Semporna town itself had changed. There were no longer wooden shop houses. The shophouses are now concrete bricks and the houses that lined the road are brick houses. Kampung Bogaya where I stayed for a month doing a social project, was now seen a suburb in the munacipility of the town.There were so many changes in the waterfront, with more motorboats and vessals plying between the market and the islands aroung Semporna.

I checked into Semporna Water Village, a hotel built on stilt in the water that dominated the sea front. Here visitors came to stay and to enjoy fresh sea food that was scooped from the sea underneath. That night I had a good dinner at the sea resort.

The next morning I took a boat to Pulau Mabul on a one hour speedboat journey from the Semporna waterfront. The island now has about 70 houses, some on water and some onshore. I was greeted by an Italian couple who had made the island their home and running a lodging house on water meant for foreign backpeckers who normally stayed for two weeks on the island. The couple also arranged diving excursion and diving equipments to visitors who comes from all over the world particularly Europe.

As this is a frontier island, the island community was made up of Suluk, Badjau, Illanun and other ethnics of southern Phillipines and Indonesia. They understood Malay, indeed I saw an UMNO sign board , affirming that they must be members of that party and well represented. I met an islander originally from Perak who had made the island his home and married a women from the island. The island community was a close community, at ease with outsiders that just after a few hours you felt at home in their midst.

The next day I took a boat to Sipadan, which was another hour from Mabul by speed boat.In the horizon I could see Ligatan, another island that brought Malaysia and Indonesia into dispute. Sipadan was a very beautiful coral island attracting many visitors, mostly for diving, snorkelling or lazying about on its sandy white shore. It is a security zone and visitors must leave the island by 300 PM. With such a short time at my disposal I used the time to explore the beautiful underwater garden of the island.

I had been to Perhentian, Redang, Gaya and Sapi before, but the beauty of Sipadan surpass them all by many times. The reef was healthy and the underwater life plenty. The fish were much bigger and they swim along in huge schoal ,very close and around me and never seemed to be away. The turtles that swam along side me were of a bigger species. The corals were vibrant with multiple colour . I felt I was in a beatiful garden. The coral clung close to the shore and after a few meters plunged deep into the dark sea. I must had been swimming, diving and snorkelling close to 4 hours without realising that time was up for me to leave the curfew island.

I rushed back to Semporna, took a car to Tawau and home to KL on the last flight.Although it was a short tiring trip of only two nights it was a memorable one which I would like to repeat, this time spending more days doing nothing at Mabul.

My grandfather's muniscript

I was surprised when Pak Cik Braim handed to me my grandfather's manuscript that he had compiled and completed in 1967 at the age of 67. It was 124 pages long, written by cursive jawi script which I recognised the handwriting to be that of my grandfather. It was family history depicting his childhood experience. his adulthood, his marriages, his family and the final sense of satisfaction he got from life after all those years of hardwork and misfortune. The muniscript ends up with a pantun asking his future generation to be down to earth and humble.

Reading the manuscript brought me back to my grandfather with whom I had stayed for many years when I was in my primary school kampumg school.My grandfather was a determined man and serious with what he was doing. At the time when I was close to my grandfather he was already a reknown petition writer in Sitiawan. As a petition writer he assisted kampung folks with their problems in government matters particularsly with the land office, the road transport department and the registration department. His shop in Sitiawan would be a meeting place not only for people to get their problems resolved, but also for the Sitiawan Malays to get together to have a chat or catch up with the latest news.

I was always at my grandfather's shop whenever I had nothing much to do. We hardly strike at a long conversation, because my grandfather was normally not the type who easily strike conversation with anyone. But the fact that he was there was very reassuring. I read the jawi Utusan Melayu, the newspaper he subscibed and that was how I was conversant with jawi. Sometime he would give me money, that that motivared me to drop in at his shop more often.

After reading his manuscript, I understood more why my grandfather was more resourceful than most people his age that I knew in my childhood days. My grandfather must have indeed learnt from my great grandfather to be involved in all sort of ventures in order to survive as an immigrant from Sumatra. My grandfather had tried many things in his life before he settled down as a petition writer in the 60s.In the 70s this job must have brough him some moderate sucess to enable him to buy some landed propoerties that he was able to pass on to his sons to build houses of their own. Indeed my grandfather was proud that his children were sucessfully starting families of their own.

Of course my grandfather seemed to have some weak spot that he could avoid that made his journey in life going through rough patches. He was a person who acted on his feelings and emotions. His several marriages and divorces did not seem to come from rational thinking, but rather on emotional feelings that was decided by the sentiment of family members. I couldnt blame him for that for the Malays of the early 20s and 30s was a closed society trapped in old tradition.He changed jobs a number of times and when he had a job he did not plan to build a career out of it. He also moved from place to place quite often without ever figuring what was ahead.His moves to Kuala Ketil with my grandmother in the middle of the night, unannounced and with no clue of the trouble ahead was one example of his daring exploit. And quite surpringly, he was flamboyant man who look for fun in boria and music.

These are fact of his life I knew very little about the man whom I had known as a pious and godfearing man. I knew my grandfather when he must have been 55-60 years of age. I used to stay with him when I was a boy attending a Malay school in Sitiawan. If he didnt go to the mosque for his subuh prayer, he would pray in the house and I could remember the melodious surah he used to recite at dawn. It was such a sweet music to my ear. but I pretended to be sleep and despite his piousness ,my grandfather had never woken me up to say prayer.


A man inherits some genes from the aerlier generations. I guess too I must be having some of the genes that my grandfather had passed down to me.I love the sea and harbour a dream that one day I would sailing like my great grandfather.I like having fun too and sometimes would go for a fling and enjoy good things in life. I am focused in my career and family life and would do anything to make my life and that of my family sucessful.Intelectual curiosity was something that grandfather possessed that put him apart from his friends and peers, indeed he was a reference source for many information and would make conversation in politics and society more lively.These are some of the traits that I inherit from my past generations.

Reunion after almost 40 years

Last Saturday at Sri Malaysia Sungai Petani, I met again old friends most of whom I had not met for the last 40 years. It was ex Gaya Collegians Reunion lunch attended by some 60 people from all over Malaysia. Most had retired from the teaching profession, but some had left teaching many years ago to enter into a different vocations . There were lawyers, judge, politicians, managers and businessmen. Some are still active and some led a semi retired life.

Among the friend that was prasent was Kasim.Kasim was the first person I met when I arrived at Kota Belud in Feb 1968 after a long travel of two weeks from Sitiawan by bus, train and cargo ship. The cargo vessal was my most memorable journey. The vessal Kimanis sailed through rough sea South China Sea for 5 days before arriving at Kota Kinabalu wharf late at night. When I hit the road, it was rolling and I swayed as I walked.I didnt checked out of the boat immediately for I had no place to stay that night. Only the next morning I took a Land Rover for another winding ride to Kota Belud, where to my relief I met Kasim who also came from Perak.

Hamdan was also at the gathering. He had been my good friend from the college days and I visited him on many occasions in Kiulu where his wife came from. I admire Hamdan for his sheer determination and hardwork in furthering his education until Phd and his contribution towards the consumer movement in Malaysia. From somebody unknown and unattached, he has become a public figure in consumerism in Malaysia.

The ex collegians that were present were colourful figures, with adventureous spirit and mind of their own. Most attribute their specialness to the experience they have at Gaya and the life they lived in Sabah. Because they share unique experience, there was a bond of frienships among them that had gone through the test of time.

A friend named Khamis

After almost 15 years, I met Khamis again , this time on the hospital bed with a stroke attack that immobilised his left arm and leg.Khamis must had been quite surprised to see me visiting him for he had been avoiding old friends as if he didnt want any old friends to know the condition he was now in. I could say that Khamis had been going through bad patches recently after a failed business venture that left him indebted and a failed marriage that disarrayed his family .

But Khamis being Khamis, never wanted to look bad. He said his paralysed arm and leg would soon recover through theraphy sessions that he himself would administer. He said he would ask for discharge and would pursue the business activities he normally undertake. He talked about closing a deal or two from which he could earn big fees.He talked about the connections he had that include a cabinet minister that would help him when he summoned for help.Twenty years ago, when Khamis left the government job, to the private sector and to being a business man, he was dreaming of the good days ahead driving posh cars, residing in suburb bangalow and having beautiful women to date.The reality is very different now seeing his unkempt face, staying in a third class ward of a governemnt hospital and wanting to run away from family members and close friends.

Khamis is 60 years old. He could have hit his chance 23 or 40 years ago when his stamina was strong and the oppurtunity abundant. He had simply missed the boat.Also somewhere in his life he had missed a step through sheer carelesness that put him in the state he was now in.

Maliau Basin

Of all the park in Malaysia, the gem is Maliau Basin in Sabah.This is the best conservation effort in Malaysia deserving the merit as a UN world heritage site. Situated between Keningau and Tawau, this basin is unique in its features, home rare species of plant and wildlife.

The journey from Tawau by 4 wheel drive took me 8 hours to reach Christie Camp. It was alreasy dark when we reached the road leading to Christie Camp. Along the gravel road we could see dears and wild bulls gasing along the track. When we slept at the Christie Camp that night , a bear raided our camp and took along a bag containing food.

The next day we started trekking to Camel Trophy Camp. The first part of the trek was tough as we have to tackle the slope that was the enscarpment of the basin. For 3 hours it was all way up before we reached the plateau. Once on the rim of the plateau we trekked for another 3 hour to reach the Camel Trophy Camp where we spent the night in the comfort of wooden hostel build by Camel international team.

The whole of the following day was spent trekking to the Maliau Fall. The trail was well maintened especially the Jalan Babi, a stretch of trail famous for its new species, where the vegetation is temperate stunted trees with green mosses and algae.The vegation varies ranging from stunted trees to tropical forest with dark canapy that harbours animals like baboon, barking deer and birds. After about six hours of trekking we reached the majestic looking Maliau Fall with its thanderous water falling into deep abyss, creating mist of vapour that hang on the fringe of the troplical forest.

That night after about 12 hours of walkm we spent the night at Ginseng Camp, and due to the camp was often looted by a family of bear, we stook extra precaution to secure our food. The guide was sick that night, shaking with Malaria, and despite swallowing some aspirin, he could recover the next day. Later a helicopter was despatched to take him to Tawau General Hospital. We resumed with one guide who took us the next 6 hours back to Christie Camp.

The experience at Maliau was special because the terrain , the vegetation and the wild life was different from other national park. Even the guide was different because they were very knowledgeable about the forest and make effort to explain Maliau to the trekkers.The camp site was clean and the trek was well cared. To me Maliau was the best managed park in Malaysia ande be the benchmark for all parks.

Rinjani in Lombok

I landed in Denpasar when it was almost midnight.We were the last arriving passengers and I proceeded to the parking lot to look for the van that would take us to Padang Bai, the embarkation port to Lombok. I embarked on the ferry, found myself a seat I could stretched out and was soon fast asleep oblivious to the cold breeze and choppy sea. At sunrise the ferry arrived at Lombok and I took the winding road to East Lombok here Ranjini is situated.

Lombok appeared to me very rural with activities centering around agriculture, mainly paddy farming. The kampung looked clean and the farm well maintained. My journey to Sembalun Lawang on East Lombok was through winding mountain roads and deep revines. I reached Rinjani Information Centre, where all Rinjani hikers must report themselves before the ascent.

The start of the climb was through meadow of long and soft grasses.The landscape was times gentle but sometimes steep.As we climbed higher we got a majestic view of the hills and valley.With such a fantastic scene and cool fresh air, without realising we reached the first camping spot where we spent the night. The next day, we resumed our journey through yet another day of great landscape and steep terrain until we reached the next camping point at the Sembalun crater rim. The rest of the day we enjoyed ouselves looking at the Segara Anak Crater lake with the newly formed Gunong Baru in its midst. Beyond the horizon we could see the blue outline of Gunong Agong in Bali.

I didnt climb to the summit of Rinjani, but continue my way down the slope to Segara Anak. Segara Anak was a holy place for the Hindus and traces of prayer offering littered the shore. The water was suitable for bathing and teeming with fish which was my menu that night. The view was stunningly beautiful and I could spent the whole day appreciating nature's beauty. When the sun rose that morning, I was ready to make my the most ardous task of the expedition, that was climbing the steep rocky slope from Segara Anak to the other side of the crater rim at Senaru Crater rim.After 4 hours of climb, exhausted I reached the crater rim , rewarded with a picturesque view of Segara Anak and Gunong Baru.

The rest of the journey for the next 5 hours, I walked through barren grassland and lush tropical jungle teeming with birds and butterflies. We reached Senaru Village and continued our journey by bus to Mataram. This was a worthwhile trip, journeying through a beautiful unspoilt country and learning about the people and culture of Lombok

Gopeng - Cameroon Highland Trek

Since the last 12 years I had adopted a new hobby of jungle trekking and mountain climbing.Ever since I had climbed many peaks and trekked numerous trails. I derived lots of satisfaction from this hobby as it brings me closer to nature and I had develop a robust health. There is nothing more peaceful and relaxing than to walk along mountain trails, listening to the sound of winds and enjoying the sight of beautiful peaks, valleys, fauna and flora.When I camp at night in the jungle, I listen to the music of the nocturnal creatures and fade away into oblivion into the darkness of the jungle. In the morning, the air was so fresh and crispy, that I feel like staying put for whole day in my camp.

One outing that I well remember was the Gopeng -Cameroon Highland trekking that took two days through undulating terrain. I started from Sungai Itek from the orang asli plantation trekking along a path until I reached the secong orang asli kampung not far from the mining dam that was built in 1930s. I slept in a vacant orang asli house and as I was already tired from the long journey, I slept very early that night. The orang asli woke up very early, so did I and getting ready for a full day trekking along Sungai Kampar. I shouldnot say the trek was tough, but it was an ardous trek with many hills to climb and shallow river to negotiate. The beauty of Sungai Kampar and the pureness of its water provided relieve from pain and aches.

After almost ten hours of walk , I reached Kampung Tengah, an abandoned orang asli kampung in the midlle of nowhere between Gopeng and Cameroon, with about 7 run down bertam houses ,all left vacant except for two. There were only two people staying in the kampung, an old lady with his midle aged son, for the rest had moved away.

That night I was given a hut , but with its made of bertam and floor of split bamboo, cold night air got into the hut and I was shivering in my sleeping bag. In the middle of the night I was awakened by a dog who got into the hut as the hut was the home to the dog. The next morning after a breakfast of ubikayu,I continued the next leg of my climb.

This time it was all going uphill right from the start. As the landscape got more hilly, the vegetation changed and the view got more scenic. The trek was quite treacherous as the ground was rocky and loose.At some places it became very difficult to get a firm hold on the stony ground. I tripped and stumbled many times despite moving at a slow steps.The final climb was the most difficult sheer slope with nothing strong enough to hold to and it took almost two hours of hard labour to negotiate this stretch.Upon overcoming this slope, the panaromic view before my eye was God's gift.Miles after miles I saw rolling hills and mountain peaks cut by deep valleys with riot of colours. The jungle was green and the sky blue. I spent two hours enjoying the view before moving the Orand Asli Village and walked another hour in the Baharat Tea plantation before hitting the main road Tanah Rata.

Sungai Sitiawan

I went back to Sitiawan last hari Raya. Sitiawan has always been a place I return to whenever I have the oppurtunity.Seeing the slow moving Sungai Sitiawan brings me back to my chilhood days along the river. This is the river that had supportd many generations of my family. My family relied on this river for their livehood. The river was teeming with fish and prawn and the riverbed with cockles. This had been our source of protein, indeed the only source. Whatever extra that we harvested from the river we sold them for cash which help our parent to send us to schools and buy other basic necessities. The river is lined with big area of mangrove swamp and the mangrove trees provided us with wood and charcoal that we sell to the town. Without the river I couldnt imagine what else we could do to earn that extra income. The river had always been the source of salvation and hope.

The river too was my only place of recreation when I was a boy. When tide was low we walked from one side of the river catching crab, prawn and catfish that hide in the water poodles. When tide was high we swam from one bank of the river to the other, always racing with each other laps after laps. We would then climb the tallest bakau and perepat and dive head on into the murky mud.There was complete freedom, as unlike a swimming pool there was no end where we could get to. After many years in the river I grew up to be a strong and robust lad in a fenceless playground where my energy was vented out in a healthy way. By the time I finished my secondary schooling, I was getting restless ready to explore beyond Sitiawan as I had explored every nook and corners of Sungai Sitiawan.

As I sat down along Sungai Sitiawan, the river was no more like before. The river was getting shallower and its flow appears lethargic. Nobody swim in the river anymore because the water was toxic. The fish had thin out and the riverbed was no more the home of prawn, crabs and cockles. The mangrove forest has no more luxuriant lustre, being plundered by aquaculturist that discharge toxic waste into the river. There was no life, no frollicking cries of young boys having fun in the water and no sampan moving about. Sungai Sitiawan has lost its magic past and nobody anymore depend on the river for food.