The Star: Celebrate Malaysia! Part 2: The North

The second article appeared in The Star today (18 December 2007). Here is the unabridged version.
Back on the road again After a break of a few days in PJ, I returned by car to Pulau Carey to set off from Kampung Sg Judah, an Orang Asli kampung. After setting up the bike, I had a cup of Teh-O at a stall by a school. The Malay Lady who ran the stall was busy but we chatted as she worked, watched by her 3 kids.

Her modest stall served the usual menu of gerai fare but I noted with surprise an XBox connected to large speakers and a TV. 'The kids like to play on it in the evenings' she smiled. I made a mental note not to presume that kampungs are bereft of such modernities. When I eventually got up to pay she refused to accept money, saying it was a small thing - she'd obviously enjoyed our little chat.

The same thing happened when I was later caught in a heavy squall and had to shelter in another gerai. Despite enjoying yet another Teh-O and some exquisite thinly sliced Goreng Pisang, the owner refused to accept my money. What's with these Pulau Carey people? Their generosity and kindness was indeed heartwarming.

Not just a lot of hot air
I stayed a night in Kelang and another in the Nature Park in Kuala Selangor. Leaving very early that morning, I elected to avoid the mosquitoes and made the mistake of not checking the tyres. A heavy bike, insufficient air in the rear and a few kilometres from Sungai Besar, on the way to Sabak Bernam, the sidewall tore and the rear tyre blew. I had spare tubes and patches but no replacement tyre so pushed the bike to a motorcycle bengkel up the road where I met two very kind souls who made a tremendous impression on me.

Supriani is a simple man who has been through some tough times. A failed partnership in a motor workshop left him bankrupt. He worked for someone else while paying off his debts, and honing his skills, then eventually set up his little workshop beside his house. He kindly drove me around to find new tyres and I was touched by his patience and selflessness.

His brother in law, Hamzah, turned out to be one of the most profound people I've had the pleasure to meet. We spoke for hours - by the time the bike was fixed, it was too hot to ride so I hung around for awhile. Hamzah has an honest outlook on life. In his trade he has turned down work when he felt he didn't have the skills or experience to complete the job satisfactorily. He feels that if he is paid to do something, he should do it well.

He spoke evenly of how he feels the values in kampungs are slowly being supplanted by less honourable ones. 'When kampungs become pekans and pekans become bandars, the people change too'. I agreed totally with his idea that in kampungs, there is a sense of 'Us' which slowly mutates into a self-serving sense of 'Me' in larger towns.

We both lamented the gradual loss of that easy going togetherness which underpins kampung life. His stories filled me with hope - here, away from the 'me first' mentality of the towns and cities was a moral, principled way of life we would do well to revive.

Sabak Bernam was the last town in Selangor and I had the pleasure of meeting yet another principled character: Ridzwan who played club football for PKNS. He once played for a state team, stayed 3 months then left when he realised some of his teammates were not chosen just on merit. After retiring through injury, he now worked at his father's gerai where I met him.

And so I left Selangor, my home state, bedazzling in its modernity, yet almost rotting at the core through disrepair and poor maintenance. Still, I discovered there is much to admire in the people. Just perhaps not so much in the cities.

Teluk Intan is one of my favourite towns in Malaysia and my 3 days there were pleasurable ones. The Anson Hotel was cheap, clean and cheerful. And I met Amir who ran a bike shop. I was lucky to meet him on Friday when he normally shut the shop and he opened it specially for me after his Friday prayers. I got proper tyres fitted (the ones we found in Sg Besar being a temporary measure) and felt more confident about the tyres lasting the rest of the journey.

I like the easy pace of Teluk Intan. A town almost bypassed by progress with the construction of the highway, it has since found some resurgence in tourism. Not too much to spoil it though.

Malaysia's Tourism Ambassador
In Parit Buntar I met David Munusamy who wold get my vote as Tourism Ambassador if there were such a post. I'd come across David on the internet. Near retirement age, he now hosts cyclists and backpackers from all around the world. A kind, affable character, it would seem he knew anyone and everyone in the area. And what an area! We visited prawn farms, fishing villages, dried fish factories, toddy plantations, shipyards, even a herbal sauna set in a padi field! And through it all, the kind hospitality of a genial host. Oh did I mention his wife's food is delicious too?

Penang, Buttwerworth, Sungai Petani, Alor Setar all passed quickly. I'd spent a few days with my wife, Mei, in Penang (she'd flown up to join me as we attended a friend's wedding in Batu Feringghi) then continued relentlessly up north. I stopped at the Lembah Bujang Archeological Museum and marvelled at how an empire was here as much as 1500 years before. I survived the steep hills around Gunung Jerai and was constantly wowed by the beauty of morning light playing on verdant green padi fields.

And in the end...
Then, finally, Kangar. And a day trip out to Padang Besar. On the way, I stopped at a yet another gerai, this one opposite the Pusat Serenti Bukit Chabang, a drug rehab centre. The stall owner lamented the fact we have more of these than we do universities and that insightful remark once again reinforced my marvelling at the wisdom I was encountering.

A 14-hour bus ride home from Kangar allowed me time to ponder what I'd seen in the previous 5 weeks. I'd seen some stunning scenery of course. But more importantly, I'd met some stunning people too. Honest in their philosophies. Wise in their observations. Thought provoking in their insights.

And always, warm and kind. The heart of Malaysia still beats strongly and proudly. But it's not in the centre, it's in the edges, the periphery. In the kampungs and villages. And it had been my pleasure and honour to feel that pulse.

My mum who often greets my misadventures and transgressions with the exclamation 'You're mad!' was right not to question my mental state when I turned up in PJ. This ride wasn't mad. It was necessary. And the results were spectacular.

(Celebrate Malaysia! is not quite done. More is being planned to give fellow Malaysians a chance to feel that pulse for themselves. Log in to John's blog at www.john-budakkampung.blogspot.com to ride along.)

Day 24 - 25 Nov 7 - 8 Parit Buntar Part 4

One of the places David took me to was a toddy plantation where we sat on plastic chairs under the shade of coconut trees drinking toddy and chatting with more of his friends. The Toddy Plantations are, I guess, not exactly licensed to sell for on-premise consumption, but what the heck. I realised this was the pub culture of the area and it was utterly fascinating.

Many of the people in the area are fishermen and when they have no maintenance work to do while on shore, they really do have a lot of time on their hands. There is a rising drug problem, but on the whole, the fishing community do what many urban people do on Friday evenings - kick back and relax with friends over a few drinks.

So, the setting is in the fresh outdoor air, with a padi field as a backdrop, the music of birds the background to casual conversation, steamed fish, grilled ray, roast duck or whatever anyone has brought on the table for all to share... No loud blaring music, no smell of stale cigarette smoke lingering on your clothes, and all for RM 6 per 2-litre bottle!

And the conversations were familiar too, even if topically different. We all laughed at the types of drunks - the sad and weepy ones, the sleepy ones, the aggressive ones, haven't we met them all in pubs in cities? - talked about my ride, the life in the village, and we heard a few good (ahem) reasons why some of them didn't turn up for David's Diwali gathering when David admonished them. If I closed my eyes, imagined a smell of beer and spirits, maybe some stale smoke, and the dry artificiality of air-conditioned air, I could have been in a pub in KL. The loud voices, the laughter, though - they were the same.

We stayed an hour or so and I sampled the fresh toddy (sweet and lower alcohol) as well as the morning's collection (sharper taste with higher alcohol content). Then off we went for a siesta at a sauna by the padi fields.

Well, David did the sauna thing, while I had a quiet snooze in a hammock. The place is run by a Chinese family in a Malay kampung. The steam boiler is fired by coconut husks - the family sells the nuts they harvest and the husks are a good, high-calorie source of heat. The coconut tree is certainly a marvellous multi-use plant. Here too, they know David and we bumped into yet more of his friends. One of whom was indeed at the party the night before and needed to steam out the alcohol he had consumed!

Everyone who knows David has greeted him warmly. Chatting with one or two of them on the side, he has been described on more than one occasion as having a big heart. Indeed the man has. And then some.

As we drove around the Parit Buntar environs, David slowly let his Tour Guide persona ebb and the other, more personal, side of him rise. I had told him I was keen on seeing what made him tick, and that idea slowly dawned on him. He took me around not to educate me as he would a tourist, but he began clearly to want me to share in his life. He was showing me Parit Buntar and her residents because in them was a reflection of him.

What is, or who is, a Malaysian?

This ride is about re-discovering the values that underpin our Malaysian identity and by so doing, unearthing one definition of 'Malaysian'.

I will explore this a little further for this topic deserves that bit of effort, to add to the mountain of words what academics, sociologists, anthropologists, even politicians (professional or coffeeshop) have created.

Meanwhile, if we broadly accept that being Malaysian includes possessing and living these attributes:
a can-do attitude that overides whatever limits life may put in one's path,
a sense of brotherhood that cuts through racial and creed barriers,
a pride in our country that is beyond nationalism,
a warmth and kindness and a desire to befriend and help others,
then I put it to you that I have met and stayed two days with a true Malaysian.

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Day 24 - 25 Nov 7 - 8 Parit Buntar Part 3

David took me around to a lot of touristy places the next day. By touristy I mean they are places that would appeal to tourists. Fishing village, prawn farms, shipyard, that sort of thing. Although I have been clear about the purpose of this ride - that it is not primarily a sightseeing ride - I still found these sights and sounds interesting.

Ultimately, all these places are run by people. Ordinary folk in a less urbanised environment, doing a myriad of things in the name of making a living. Sure, the jobs they hold are not the jobs I'm used to seeing on a daily basis but that is indeed one reason why it's interesting.

Another is David himself.

David had secondary education only until Form 2. Some years later, he somehow landed a job in a school library and took the opportunity to read books he might have read had he continued his schooling. This gave him a rudimentary alternative schooling and helped him go a little further in life.

A keen badminton player, he was Kedah state singles champion for 3 years in the 70s and missed out on trials with the national team simply because of administrative blunders. He eventually found a job with the Electricity Board, LLN, partly because of his badminton prowess and there he's been ever since.

The privatisation of LLN has been good for him - giving him a better income and health benefits for the whole family. He had an Angioplasty a few years ago and takes a handful of pills every morning to keep him going - the cost of which is borne by the health benefits scheme.

By all accounts, he is a remarkable fellow. Considering his very basic education, he has brought himself quite far indeed. Initially a very local chap, with no contact with Mat Sallehs, David went on a cycling trip through Southern Thailand, met a lot of foreigners and his life suddenly changed. He became comfortable with foreigners, and more importantly, found a great desire to show his country to them. David's Homestay followed soon after.

He now hosts cyclists and backpackers from all over the world and has become quite well known throughout the budget traveling community. Indeed, I found him on the internet and the idea of someone in Parit Buntar, of all places, playing host to international cyclists and backpackers was irresistible. I just had to drop by.

One couple who came to stay helped him set up his website and showed him how to manage it so now this chap with the Form 2 education manages his own site, creating pages, putting up pictures, etc. His spoken English is more than adequate, but his written English still needs work so David takes pictures of signs at tourist spots and painstakingly copies them onto his webpages when he needs to explain a location or event.

As for marketing David's Homestay, his army of friends often waylay passing cyclists and pass them his card. Many contact David and end up staying days, even weeks. David also has an active online presence and is a member of online hospitality and cycling communities. These get him coverage and visibility and has led to many visits from people who found him online.

Not bad for someone who left school at 14, eh?

I won't inundate you with the details of the touristy things we did. I will say that seeing the myriad of activities and industries available in the area (a herbal sauna in a kampung/padi field setting anyone?) was eye-opening. Seeing them with David was enlightening.

He gets around, that's for sure, for he knew people everywhere. And when he didn't, he knew someone who knew someone where we wanted to go and that is how we sauntered into the ship yard unchallenged.

After spending some time going around in his car, I'm also now convinced David has God on his side. If you were of a nervous disposition or if you'd failed to notice that his car is relatively unscathed, you would either suffer a nervous breakdown or have a cardiac arrest within a few minutes of travelling as a passenger when he drives.

David is an engaging fellow. One of his driving problems is that he sometimes gets so caught up with a particular topic he forgets to engage gears too. We drove a few kilometres in second gear at one stage, with David telling me about something or other and me too polite to ahem... tell him there were a few other gears if he so desired.

He also forgets the accelerator at times. That is he starts to lighten the pressure on the right pedal as he points out sights, or talks or listens to you. I would glance over and see the speedometer needle inch back from 60 to 55 to 50 then to 45 and even down to 40 at one stage. And this is km/h mind you...

All this while, cars would casually swing around him and overtake and not once, on our hours together did someone horn at him. Or stare as he went past. And then David would suddenly realise his right foot was not doing anything in particular and he'd find something to do with it and step on the gas and off we'd go at a saner 60 or so.

That's not all... you know those diagonal white lines that denote areas on the road you should avoid because there's a merging lane or something? Well, it's perfectly safe to drive over them. Even when they technically belong to an oncoming lane. I should know - we kept doing it and I'm here typing this aren't I?

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Day 24 - 25 Nov 7 - 8 Parit Buntar Part 1

Distance: 50.61 km
Max Speed: 28.9 km/h
Average while moving: 20.6 km/h

I found out from the front desk of the Hotel Panorama that there is a shorter route to Parit Buntar so I felt quite confident about leaving a little later than usual. The ride in was uneventful except for my encounter with Fook Onn which I have written about.

Locating David's place was much more interesting though - shortly after Simpang Lima, where I met my namesake, I saw that I was less than 10 km from Parit Buntar so decided to call David. He gave me some directions and I was going fine, beginning to realise that his concept of 1 km was not theconcept shared by cartographers the world over, nor by me... A little confused when I came upon the Perak State boundary and a sign proclaiming my entrance into the 6th state of my ride, Pulau Pinang, I stopped and called him again. He told me to go on through the border, despite there being two signs in quick succession pointing right to Parit Buntar.

It turns out that his place is a little between Parit Buntar and Nibong Tebal, the next town. And despite being nearer Parit Buntar, and David's insistence it is indeed in Parit Buntar, the street signs describe his home as being in Nibong Tebal...

He sat astride his motorbike, waiting for me me at a Mobil station, then took me to lunch at his wife's stall in a coffeshop nearby, and after that on to his place about 1 km in. Really.

His is a modest house at the end of a housing estate of many Indian families. He has added a room at the side of the house and that was where I was to stay. He left me to settle in and left to attend to something.

A few minutes later, Sunil contacted me, saying he was on the way back to Penang and would swing by Parit Buntar. My first mistake was in trying to get directions from David's wife. It seems she and her husband share a similar cartographic ineptitude. I decided to simply walk out to try and get my bearings and to guide Sunil in.

After all, I thought, Parit Buntar can't be that difficult to find someone in can it? How big is it anyway?

Big enough.

And confusing...

There is Old Town. And New Town. And Town Centre. I eventually walked out 1 km back to the Mobil station and got definitive directions from the attendant so Sunil and I finally met up and headed back to the coffeeshop for a few Tigers. OK, Tony, no Carlsberg this time - happy? heh heh...

That night, David put on a Diwali gathering to rival all Diwali gatherings. Despite being 5 months short of retirement age (55 here) he is a member of TWO chapters of the Hash House Harriers. That makes for a lot of friends. And as I discovered over the next day, David has a lot of friends outside of the Hash too.

So, over the course of the evening, there must have been 40 or 50 people who dropped by to have some of his wife's cooking and to knock back some Carlsbergs (there, parity is restored) and toddy, bought from nearby. It was also David's youngest sons' (twins) 10th birthday so a double celebration.

I couldn't communicate with most of them except in Malay as the majority spoke Hokkien, which I don't. It feels strange speaking to another Chinese person in Malay, but there you have it.

Being a little tired, I went to bed around 11, while the party raged on. Crackers and fireworks went off in celebration of Diwali, but I closed my eyes and sleep came within minutes.

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