Thoughts while pedalling: Roadkill

In the old days, and by that I mean in the 60s and 70s, if you ran over and killed a chicken or a goat while driving through a kampung along some trunk road, you would have been better off not stopping as you would have been in real danger of being set upon by angry villagers.

Those days are gone now of course. And much traffic runs along smooth tollways rather than trunk roads now.

Roadkill, though, remains a constant occurrence as I have discovered. Being just a few feet off the ground, you can't help but notice the remains of animals which met their end trying to make it across the road. Dogs, cats, birds of all kinds, even a large snake and a monitor lizard once, I have seen them all in the last week. They are even more ubiquitous than those ugly Grecian columns supporting bus shelters.

I've been thinking about roadkill these last couple of days. Heck, I can't stop noticing them and in my complex way, they sit within a framework of thought I've been building recently.

On average, I see a dead animal every kilometre. That's a whole lot of dead animals. Although more cars take the tollways now, there's still a significant amount of local traffic and I guess those poor animals just haven't gotten smart enough to dodge them.

The price of progress I guess.

You've probably gathered by now that I am not too hot on many modern buildings. At least not those slapped up in the minimum of time, with the minimum of cost, and with a minimum of artistic thought. Muar has more than its fair share, and being an old town, the contrast between the old and the gauche new is marked. Simply because the old happens still to be there to contrast against.

Now be patient, let me throw one more thought into this mix...

My encounters in the coffeeshops in small towns have so far, almost without exception, been pleasurable ones. Unrushed conversations, easy laughter, willing listeners, they're a reflection not just of the slower pace of life, but also a greater underlying respect for the person behind the function.

Muar offered up no thoughtful, rewarding conversations. One which I eavesdropped on - they were seated right behind me and being in the mode of the observer I could not resist - between two men was all about how one should have negotiated harder with some people and how the other should have been firmer with his workers... A conversation that could have just as easily been plucked out from the air in a Starbucks in the heart of KL.

The Kampungs I've passed through have by and large captivated me and captured my attention in a way Muar had failed to. The people I've met in coffeeshops have been curious and engaging. They've always been interested enough to listen, and when warmed up, confident enough to offer some thoughts too. And always, a kind word or two of encouragement.

In our rush towards development, it seems we have lost a number of things. The ability and will to retain craftsmanship and creative pride is one - as exemplified in the lacklustre and lackadaisical attitudes in architecture and construction in places like Muar.

But we have also lost much more. It seems to me that the atmosphere of disengagement I've encountered in towns is symptomatic of the very same condition. We seem caught up with the pursuit of development, of attainment. In this I would say the idea of 'the journey, not the destination' would seem sorely needed.

The inspiration for this ride is partly my lament for the values that seem to have disappeared from our country. The values, as I am continuing to rediscover, are indeed still there. Just not so much in the developed areas.

This journey we are on now indeed has its own roadkill - the soul of our country.
Post to del.icio.us