Hot Springs Therapy in Hulu Tami

Hulu Tamu Hotsprings lies in the Batang Kali forest, off the main road.

DEEP in the heart of Bantang Kali, some six kilometres off the old road to Kuala Kubu Baru, lies the Hulu Tamu Hotsprings. The hotsprings is a popular haunt among locals and weekenders who know how to get there. It was rumoured that the hotsprings’ waters have medicinal value.

The Hulu Tamu hotsprings, which is believed to have undergone a RM100,000 upgrade early this year, has three  shaded gazebos and three pools. The waters in the two smaller pools are very hot, especially towards noon, while the biggest one is lukewarm. There is a canteen at the far end of the pool but choices are limited to bottle drinks and some food.

The pebbled path for those who want some foot reflexology.

The hotsprings area is surrounded by tall trees with thick foliage, making it shady spot for picnickers. There are also short pebbled paths beside the main gazebo that visitors use for foot massage or reflexology after soaking their feet. There is a small car park at the entrance to the hotsprings and a few more parking lots beside the canteen.

According to a local I met there, the hotsprings area has been fenced up and rumours have it that the local council would soon be charging a fee for entrance. It is not known if the pool is open 24 hours as there was no signboard or a security post.

Adjacent to the hotspring is the Cholo-cholo Resort and Restaurant, a privately operated establishment that is also quite popular with holiday makers.

I found Hulu Tamu hotsprings by accident while heading to Kuala Kubu Bharu to escape the recent haze. Having spotted the signboard near Batang Kali, on the KL-Ipoh old road, I decided to take a detour to seek it out. My GPS device did not show its location but you may use Waze as there is an entry of the location. Network connection in the area is erratic, however.

I painted this scene from the canteen parking lot, armed with mosquito repellent to keep the big variety of insect at bay.  

Raub - a town gold made famous

This rest house lies on the hillock overlooking the padang.

ACCORDING to a local who saw me painting the Raub Rest House at Jalan Dato Abdullah recently, the name of the township came from the Malay term “raup”, which means a scoop. The 70-something pakcik told me that his grandfather had related to him a story about a farmer and his two sons who had ventured to set up farm in the wilderness.

After having cleared and ploughed the land, the farmer and his son went to the river to get water to irrigate the plots. Upon reaching the river, they were not only attracted by the crystal-clear waters but also the glitter on the riverbed. Curious, they took a scoop of sand from the bottom of riverbed to see what the glitter was and were surprised to find gold nuggets among the grains of sand.

The news of their finding spread quickly and prospectors came from near and far to look for gold. There was so much gold in the river that every dulang of sand washed would yield a “raup” or a scoop of gold. Hence, the township became known as “Raup” or Raub today. It is said that the area where the padang is now located used to be a waterlogged piece of land that yielded the highest amount of gold deposits.

Another story told was that Raub received its name from the Rao (or Rawo) immigrant community who lived in the area who were mostly farmers and miners. The area, then known as the Rao Valley, became Raub in later years.

I painted his colonial-style rest house seated beneath an old raintree on the south-eastern end. This old rest house is located on top of a hillock which offers it a commanding view of Raub town. The rest house was built in 1908 and had been described as one of the finest in Pahang and Selangor in an old newspaper cutting of the 1930s. Back those days, whenever there was a major event in town, its premises were reserved for the accommodation of VIPs and top government officials.

Today, the rest house is still popular with tourists, especially those who want to experience a little bit of nostalgia in the bustling town centre.  On the walls of the rest house’s high ceiling lobby are old photographs and newspaper cuttings that mark the various milestone events in the town that gold made famous.

An old clock greets visitors on the ground floor.

The padang as seen from the arched doorway of the rest house.

Guardian of Nation's heritage

Badan Warisan Malaysia is housed in an old colonial-style building

This colonial-style bungalow, at No 2 Jalan Stonor, within walking distance from the Kuala Lumpur City Centre was built in 1925. Having passed through many owners, it was restored for reuse by Badan Warisan Malaysia in 1995. The century-old building today houses an exhibition area, the Heritage Centre’s premises, and a gift shop. It is also a popular venue for art exhibitions, product launches and meetings.

The building is built raised floors and faces a huge garden. I was here recently during an exhibition by Malaysian Heritage and History Club to mark the nation’s Independence and thought that it would be a good subject to paint. After all, there are not many such magnificent buildings left in the city centre that mark a chapter of our colourful history.

 

Rumah  Penghulu Abu Seman, one of the
oldest traditional Malay houses in the country
that have been saved from the ravages of time.

Just a stone’s throw away from the bungalow is the Rumah Penghulu Abu Seman, one of the oldest traditional Malay houses in the country that have been saved from the ravages of time. Believed to be built between 1910 and 1930 in stages, this all-timber abode was once owned by Mukim Bagan Semak, Bandar Baharu, in Kedah. Badan Warisan relocated and restored the house in 1996 from its original site in Kampung Sungai Kechil, also in Kedah.

In its silence presence beneath looming sky scrapers, this traditional house is no less grand than the colonial bungalow for it reflects the ingenuity of Malay builders of old, who have masterly incorporated functional use and environment-friendliness into its design. The floors have been raised to keep the structure airy and cool in hot weather. The house also has carved panelling that not only beautiful the walls but also allow good ventilation.

This is a traditional Kukur Nyiur
or a coconut scraper.

For those who wondered what guardians of the kitchen use in time of old, check out antique kitchen appliances here, which included a granite millstone (batu giling), lesong (pestle and mortar), and coconut scraper (kukur nyiur).

Guided tours are available daily from 11am and 3pm, except Sundays, with a minimum of donation RM10 per person. Call 03-2144 9273 for details or email info@badanwarisan.org.my

Bentong beckons

This was a side view of a dhoby housed in a pre-war building.
If I am not mistaken, the name of the shop is Muhibbah.

This is my take on an old building in Bentong, Pahang, located at the corner of Jalan Wayang. Bentong is not a big town, with the hive activity concentrated at the wet market area in the morning. By late afternoon, the town is transformed into a quiet enclave as most folk retire for the day. Once businesses close at 5pm thereabouts, the town can be pretty quiet. I was here for a few days to enjoy a day out sketching and some traditional food.

Bentong is famous for its durians, usually grown in the Kampung Tras areas, but the real gem that Bentong is very well-known for, since the 70s, is its ginger. You can find fresh or powdered ginger being sold by entrepreneurs under many brands.

Highland escapade

The Convent Primary School in Tanah Rata was built in the 1930s and
was one of the earliest Convent school to accept male pupils.

STUDENTS at the SK Convent Tanah Rata probably enjoy the highest located school on this side of the country. The school is also the highest landmark overlooking Tanah Rata (at 1,440 metres above sea level), which is the largest town in Cameron Highlands.

Brinchang is quiet on most days but on weekends
and public holidays, it comes alive with
a jam packed pasar malam.

According to available reference materials, the primary school began as a boarding school named Pensionnat Notre Dame. Officially opened on May 1, 1935, it was built on land allocated by the Sultan of Pahang of the time. It was originally set up for the daughters of English workers at the tea plantations on the highlands. However, the Convent began accepting boys since the 1960s when the government took over part of its administration.

Tanah Rata, which means flat land in Malay, is a bustling township now increasingly populated by hotels and guest houses for the growing number of tourists. There are travel agents, banks, money changers, sundry shops, fast food outlets, and 24-hour restaurants. There is even a Starbucks Coffee outlet at the main road, Jalan Besar.

The second largest town in Cameron Highlands is Brinchang, located about six kilometres from Tanah Rata. This is also the highest township on the highlands. Its main attraction is a pasar malam that operates during weekends and public holidays. Brinchang also has its fair share of restaurants, hotels and guest houses. Many of Cameron Highland’s attractions are located near Brinchang and during peak tourist periods, the jams here can rival that of many Malaysian cities, say my tour guide.

These two sketches were made during the short respites from the heavy downpours that marked by two-day stay in Cameron Highlands. A makcik who saw me struggling with the colours while painting the Convent advised that I visit Cameron Highlands from March to July as the weather would usually be more forgiving.

If you are heading up to Cameron Highlands, there are several roads that you can take. From the west coast of the Peninsula, the more popular ones off the North-South Expressway are the Tapah old road from the south or Simpang Pulai from the north.

Having used both during this trip, I feel that the Simpang Pulai approach is a better alternative as the road is wider and has fewer heart-stopping bends. If you are going up from Tapah, it helps to switch on the GPS so that you can be aware of bends ahead, as there are many narrow ones that may literally take your breath away. Drive slowly as chances are that you can expect to see vegetable lorries and tour buses race down the other side of the road. 

Rasa - a taste of rural township

The Sunday morning market in Rasa Town.

I was trying to escape the haze last week when I took a 70km drive to Rasa in Hulu Selangor. It wasn't very successful but I did enjoy myself having a plein aire session there. Rasa is a single street rural town lined by two rows of pre-War shophouses. With a residents profile of predominantly Malays and Chinese, there are several housing estates surrounding it. The Rasa Komuter station is at the side of the town and it was where one could still find some very old double-storey mansions and shop houses, some abandoned but some still inhabited.

The air was so thick with haze that I decided to do a quick sketch of four shop houses facing the Rasa train station.

Wat-er delight at Chamang Falls

The Chamang Waterfalls is one of the few
attractions in Bentong if you like Nature

The Chamang Waterfall, I was told by a local during a recent trip there, was Bentong’s well-kept secret until the late 90s when the tourism industry trained its sights on nature’s attraction. Located some 8km from the Jalan Tras trunk road, this waterfall is among the few attractions that the Bentong district in Pahang, has.

For those driving there for the first time, there are adequate sign boards that will take you there even if you do not use Waze or depend on GPS navigation. The road — Jalan Chamang — is also well paved right up to the waterfall area but on some stretches, you have to drive slowly as they are not only narrow but have bends.

This hanging bridge takes
you to the other bank.

There is a parking area near the waterfall which is big enough to park several tour buses. The parking area is located on higher ground overlooking the entrance to the waterfall area. Visitors are charged RM2 which goes to the park’s upkeep per entry. Just inside the entrance, at left, is a hanging bridge that takes you to the other side of Sungai Perting which begins at the fall. There are also toilet facilities.

If you want to have a cool dip, locals I met have advised to stick to the pools at the foot of the waterfall which are less treacherous. While the gushing white waters a few levels up look more inviting on a hot day, they are not to be taken too lightly. The rocks are slippery and in some areas, have very little foothold for you.  Those who have thrown caution to the wind, like jumping off the rocks and making a high dive, have ended up in serious trouble at some spots. Heed the caution signboards that have been put up near the danger spots; they may save your life.

This river is at the foot of the Falls.

This scene is painted from the foot of the waterfalls. I was fortunate to have the entire area to myself as it was a working week afternoon and the weather has been very kind.

Kuala Kubu Bharu's Memorial Clock Tower

The Kuala Kubu Bharu Memorial Clock Tower was built in 1931 to mark the Coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth. It sits on the hilltop overlooking the KKB town. This memorial clock - looks more like a cenotaph - sits just at the entrance to the Traffic Police HQ. You can't see it from the road below because of the foliage surrounding this structure.

This Clock Tower was built in 1931, to commemorate the Coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.

The shipmaker of Endau

The finished painting of the shipyard in Endau. Inset: Starting to put paint to paper.

While checking out the fishermen's wharves in Endau, a small fishing town about 150km south of Kuantan , Pahang, I stumbled upon a shipyard in Jalan Dato Mohd Ali that specialises in repair of local fishing boats. Being fond of marine vessels, I went right in uninvited to capture the scenery that I was familiar with while growing up near in Kuala Terengganu. 

Luckily for me, the owner of Cahaya Empat Slipway Sdn Bhd, Law Ah Wah, who is in his 70s, did not mind my intrusion. I explained to him that I wanted to paint one of the fishing boats that was undergoing repair and he agreed.

There were several fishing boats that were undergoing maintenance work that day. Under a shade at one end of the shipyard, a timber fishing vessel was being built. The boat that I intended to paint had undergone repairs and maintenance for some time and would be launched in a week. Another boat had just arrived and waiting to hauled onto land.

The shipyard uses several diesel-powered winches to tow the vessels onto a trailer which sits on a rail track before being hauled onto land. Once the boat is landed, it is cleaned and dried before the hull is stripped and checked for rotting parts and those that needed replacement.

For timber bottomed boats, planks of hardwood are usually joined side-by-side using a strong adhesive-sealant called damar. A type of fabric thread is inserted into the gaps between the joints before damar is applied. This is to not only strengthen joints but also make them waterproof. Once the joints are cured and smoothed, the hull is painted, and the vessel launched into the sea to continue its seafaring duties.

 

Potting around at the kiln in Ipoh

MY ARTIST friend Phang Chew who lives in Ipoh took me to this old pottery kiln in Jalan Kuala Kangsar to paint the scenery there. Ah Fatt, the partner-owner of the Xin Fa Pottery, is his friend. I decided to grab the opportunity to visit the place because I had never been to a pottery before. Phang, who is an accomplished outdoor painter well-known in Ipoh, has sold many pieces of the scenery he painted here.

My sketch of the old kiln's smokestack.

Located along Batu 2-1/2 Jalan Kuala Kangsar, just 100 metres off the  main road, Xin Fa Pottery is over 60 years old and has several kilns of various sizes producing many types of clay pots. 

According to Ah Fatt, there were quite a number of such factories two or three decades ago in the area. Dwindling business and development have caused many to move out. His factory now produces pots for the local market (including artistic clay sculptures) as well as for export.

A Schmincke Field Box in one hand and the leg becomes my easel.

Although the owner was a little busy to take me through the entire process of pot making, he did allow us to go into the main wood-fired dragon kiln which had yet to resume operation. The dragon kiln is a Chinese invention that dates back thousands of years. We had to be careful as the kiln’s ceiling is not very high and the years of firing have caused the glass-sharp stalagtite-like protrusions to form. We were told to lower our heads or risk getting a nasty cut.

Sifu Phang Chew in his element.

Phang, his wife and I ended up painting the scenery of an abandoned kiln located beside a dilapidated storehouse at a shady corner of the factory’s compound. I found much challenge in recording the various types of foliage around this old structure and came up with a watercolour sketch for good measure. My friend Phang and his wife drew on larger sheets of paper and within an hour, they had completed their masterpieces

Trees' company in Sungai Lembing

 The trees were planted by the early settlers in the town,
 providing shade for the people along the main street.

LIKE SENTINELS of time, a row of old trees stand watch over the quaint town of Sungai Lembing  from the road island in the middle the main street. According to a friend, the trees were planted by the early settlers in the town which once had the longest pit tin mine in the world. This tree is just a stone’s throw away from the Sungai Lembing food court. 

A local who watched as I painted this tree explained that the present tree was in fact a Strangler Fig, a type of parasitic tree, which took over its host after having “strangled” it. Only a few of the original giant trees remain. They are believed to have been planted in the early 1800s.

The museum is located at the hill top at the far end of this padang.

At the far end of the town of Sungai Lembing, where the last of the giant trees provide a shady respite for townsfolk, lies the town’s padang. It is here that the schools nearby and townsfolk hold their activities. From here, one can see the Sungai Lembing’s main tourist attraction, the Sungai Lembing Museum, perched on the hilltop.

I painted this custodian of Sungai Lembing’s rich past in in the evening, just after the rain, using line and wash technique from the northern side of the padang.

Something old from Sungai Lembing

This is what that remains of its only petrol kiosk. It is a grim reminder of
the town's glorious past. Today, petrol is sold in bottles of 1,5L in sundry shops.

Did you know that Sungai Lembing did not have its town petrol station? It used to, more than 15 years ago, I was told. Not anymore. If you are visiting it, you had better make sure you have enough petrol or fill up your tank at the nearest petrol station 28km away, just after the East Coast Highway exit. Otherwise, you may have to flag down a passing motorcyclist and get him to buy you petrol should you run out of fuel.

According to a local there used to be a petrol station operator here until his business was killed by the lack of demand and the annual floods that inundate the former tin mining town. This is my painting of the petrol pump which pumped its last more than 15 years ago. I painted the relic seated along the corridor of one of the old shop houses lining the main street. Townsfolk who mostly rode motorcycles buy their petrol from sundry shops at RM4 per 1.5-litre bottle.

Someone tried to steal this pillar post box but was prevented by the villagers. Today, this relic takes
its rightful place by the Sungai Lembing market (at right).

Another relic of Sungai Lembing is the Victorian pillar post box, which townsfolk said is still in use. This post box is just a stone’s throw away from the wet market. According to locals, it was put in place ago during the town’s glory days when the tin industry flourished. However, the locals continue to care for this relic till this day. According to a local who approached me while I was painting, someone had tried to remove the pillar box some years ago because of its heritage value. Fortunately, the townsfolk intervened and prevented the relic from ending up in an antique lover's collection. 

Parit Jawa fishing enclave

My sketch of an old restaurant complex, now left to the elements. 

This is one of my favourite fishing enclaves on the southern coast of the peninsula. It lies about 13km from Muar town. Parit Jawa is increasingly known as a seafood haven, especially Asam Pedas which locals claim is better than Malacca’s.

I loved this coastal fishing village for its serenity. At high tide during certain times of the year, the water level at the jetty reaches almost the road level. Life here is all about fishing and the hive of activity for locals is the morning wet market at the entrance to Parit Jawa village. Just before you enter Parit Jawa village, you will come across a canal, which gives the town its name, I am told.

If you are into asam pedas and try the outlets at the hawker centre for a no-frills locally-popular asam pedas. Prices are reasonable depending on the fish you pick such as kembong (horse mackeral), siakap (seabass), red snapper (ang choe) and mayong (a species of sea catfish).  Of course, if you want to indulge in variety, the many restaurants near the jetty there will be able to handle your voracious appetite. Be prepared to wait and pay slightly more though.

I sketched this picture of an old run-down building on the other bank of the estuary. I was told that it was formerly a restaurant complex but has since been abandoned. There are many fishermen’s huts and a concrete jetty built out to sea. From the jetty, you can catch sight of Lesser Adjutant storks foraging for meal along the mudflat flanking the estuary at low tide. 

A Lesser Adjutant stork foraging for food at low tide.

Enriching encounter with an old can collector

LAST Sunday evening, while waiting for my wife to finish her grocery shopping at Pasaraya Ong Tai Kim in Gombak, I decided to quench my thirst with a cold can of soft drink along the corridors.

As I was sipping my drink and staring at the surrounding area which looked more like a foreign land populated mostly by people from the African continent, an old Ah Pek standing not far away caught my attention.

The old man, who appeared to be in his 70s, was wearing a yellowed Eagle-Pagoda T-shirt, knee-length trousers, and a pair of dirty rubber slippers. He was holding onto a crumpled Sogo plastic bag as it contained his prized possessions. And he was keeping an eye on me.

At first, I thought he was a beggar. Just a day earlier at a hawker centre nearby, one had approached my wife and I while we were having lunch.

My wife had given him a ringgit. I had seen the beggar before in several places in the Klang Valley over the years. He was a lanky elderly man, about 70 years old, with no apparent disablement but who was hobbling around with a sawn-off broomstick in one hand and a plastic cup in the other. The few times I spotted the beggar, he was going from table to table, wearing a forlorn look.

He doesn’t speak much but would instead shake the plastic cup containing loose change to attract the attention of his target, and when he succeeded, he would bow several times in a woeful manner. If they ignored him, he would waste little time but quickly moved to the next table.

After my wife had given the beggar money, I had told my wife to be frugal with her generosity, especially towards beggars.

Her generosity could encourage the beggar to continue with his ways, or worse, motivate other people with similar intentions to do the same. For the little we knew, I said, the man could have belonged to a syndicate of beggars we read about now and then.

The old man with the plastic bag at Pasaraya Ong Tai Kim looked as old as the beggar we met.  For a moment I thought he would approach me for money and when he walked towards me, I almost applauded myself for being able to read his move.

However, when he asked politely if he could have the aluminium can once I had completed my drink, I silently apologised for jumping to conclusions.

“Sure, why not?” I said as I handed the man the empty yellow can. He thanked me as he took the can, promptly dropped onto the ground and crushed it with his right foot, before putting it into his plastic bag which contained other crushed cans.

“Good price in aluminium scrap?” I asked.

The old man looked at me, smiled, and replied with a nod.

“Better than newspaper and used cardboard,” he replied in local Hokkien.

“They are easier to carry and worth more in weight. Besides, you can’t find cardboards these days. They all belong to foreigners working at the shops.”

In the past, he said, he only needed to scour the alleys in the mornings to collect discarded paper cartons left behind the shops. These days, the foreigners working at the shops kept them for themselves and sold them to the scrapyard, he said.

“But people still throw away aluminium cans,” the old man continued. “At least I can still get 50 or 60 pieces a day if I go out early in the morning and later in the evening.

“I get more when I go to the parks. It’s not much, but sometimes, if I am lucky, I will also find a used car battery or two at the tyre shops for me to sell.”

I asked him if he had a home, a family, or any children. The old man nodded and said that he lived with his daughter-in-law and a grandson who would be going to school soon.

His son, he said with some reluctance, had left the family two years ago to go to Cambodia in search of greener pastures.

“He sends home some money now and then,” the old chap replied. “But they are just enough for his wife and kid. They need it more than me. Besides I am still healthy and I can still work and pay for my own meals daily.”

When I said he could apply for government assistance, my good intent was met with a cynical smile.

“Do you really think the government has enough money to give away some more?” the old man asked, shook his head, and left without another word.

As I made my way home, I told my wife about the elderly can collector. In the past, whenever I saw old people rummaging through rubbish piles, I used to wonder if it was a reflection of the deteriorating filial piety in our society or was it that life was getting so hard that the elderly have to stay alive by scavenging for discards.

Perhaps it was just an eccentricity that came with old age that could be dismissed with a sigh as being part of life.

Comparing the old man with the beggar we ran into earlier, I realised that the former chose to live with dignity.

To me he is leading a more purposeful life than some people his age, especially those who had been blessed with good fortune and station in life but continue to waste the remaining daylight of their twilight years on petty matters and creating unhappiness around them.

Faith in filial piety restored

WHEN I spotted a photograph of my thirty-something-year-old friend “dating” a ninety-something-year-old man on social media, I was curious.

Reading the caption “Paktoh-ing (Cantonese for going on a date) with grandpa”, my curiosity was satisfied and I was inspired. It turned out that she was taking her grandfather out for a treat at one of the posh restaurants near where she lived.

It was a rare sight, at least in the city these days.

Young people nowadays are simply too busy to spend time with their aged parents, let alone take their grandparents out.

It was heart-warming to see my friend’s photograph of her outing with her grandfather — an expression of filial piety, a virtue perhaps as rare as chivalry is in modern times.

Upon asking, my friend said that she had been taking her grandfather, 97, out whenever she could. Be it a stroll in the park, a treat at the restaurants or simply window-shopping, it was something she did quite regularly.

She was working in Europe and had returned to Malaysia for a long holiday to simply spend as much time as she could with her grandfather.

“When we were kids, my grandparents took care of my younger sister and I, as well as our cousins.

“My parents had just started out in life and they both had to work. The only time my sister and I saw our parents was in the evenings when they came to have dinner at my grandparents’ home,” she said.

“It wasn’t until I was 11 years old that my sister and I moved back to stay with our parents. Even so, we still went to our grandparents’ to have lunch after school daily.”

When I praised her for her efforts, she said she did not think much of it because she had always been very close to her grandparents.

I told her it was not easy to care for the elderly. It takes a lot of patience, understanding, and love. She replied that she did it because she found it to be a privilege to do so.

“People cheer when a baby learns to walk. But nobody takes notice when a ninety-year-old guy wakes up every day and takes the trouble to continue living with cheerfulness.

“People are willing to walk with their kids in spring but why not with the elderly in their twilight years?

“Most of us regard filial piety as taking care of one’s aged parents. But these days, people live longer. So, shouldn’t filial piety be extended to taking care of our grandparents as well?”

Talking to her, my faith in the younger generation being filial was strengthened.

Many years ago, my wife and I lived two doors away from an elderly man who lived with his son and daughter-in-law.

His only son was a successful business man and his daughter-in-law was a housewife who had the luxury of giving up her career to spend her time in leisure. Their three daughters too, were well known in the neighbourhood as they had the privilege of studying in top schools where they were top students.

My wife and I were used to seeing the neighbours bringing the old man food at different times of the day. But we didn’t pay much attention to it until one of the food bearers told us the truth.

Apparently the old man was not allowed to cook at home by his daughter-in-law. If there was any cooking to be done, she would do it. Otherwise, she would buy street food for him.

However, on many occasions when his daughter-in-law was out of the house, to fetch her children back home from school or had an appointment outside, the old man had to wait until she came home to cook before he could have a proper meal.

It was during such times that these kindly neighbours would be the 70-something-year-old man’s saviour.

Sometimes, they brought him rice. At other times, some kuih or tidbits. Just so that he could eat something while he waited for his daughter-in-law to come home.

I once had a conversation with the old man when he walked by my house to have a smoke because he was not allowed to smoke in the vicinity of his own home.

In that brief encounter, our topic of conversation veered to that of my children. He advised me to bring my children up well and teach them to be respectful to their elders, not just give them academic education alone.

“You have to also instill filial piety in your children or you will not have not done your job well as a parent,” he said as he went on to share with me the woes of his life.

He said he regretted not instilling filial piety in his son after the death of his wife. He also blamed himself of having spent too much time trying to make ends meet that he neglected the basic things he should have taught his son.

He felt that because he neglected his duties, he was paying the price for his ignorance.

Consoling himself, he said at least he was luckier than some people as he still had a home to go back to and was not chased out of the house to sleep in the streets or spend his days in a nursing home.

When I asked him about his three grandchildren, with whom he was staying, the old man’s tears welled up in his eyes, I recall clearly.

He said they could not tolerate his presence, sometimes treating him like he did not exist and were often rude to him. I asked him if their parents did not scold them for being rude to him, the old man just shook his head.

“When as parents, they do not treat their parents well, how will their children learn to treat their grandparents any better?” .

Several weeks after having that conversation, news came that the old man had died in his sleep.

His funeral was a lavish affair and those who did not know of the old man’s inner sufferings remarked to me that he had lived a good life, obviously measured by the material success of his children and grandchildren.

I wanted to tell one of them the truth but decided not to. Lessons such as this was meant to be learned, often the hard way.

These days, whenever I see parents showering their kids with the material things in life, I offer a silent prayer that the children will grow up to remember and repay their parents’ deeds with the same generosity when the latter are in their twilight years. Otherwise, all their parents’ life-long efforts would have been in vain, wouldn’t it?

Batu Gajah's twin sentinels

This sketch was done by the roadside, the main thoroughfare in March this year. See the black car? It was posing to be a very dangerous partner. 

I came across a pair of wooden houses in Jalan Pusing, Batu Gajah, Perak, as I was driving into town. The duo stood by the main road and were built on raised ground. Like sentinels of time left alone by development, they reminded me of those I have stepped into in Kuala Terengganu back in the 1960s.

These houses are well-ventilated because they were made of timber and had raised floors. During the day, the grilles allow air to move freely. Sunshades were also part of the building to keep strong morning sun out. The roof, if I am not mistaken, comprised asbestos-cement sheets, which also made these houses cooler during the day.

To prevent dampness from seeping into the timber stilts which were used to hold up the house, they were placed on cement block footings. This ingenious building method allows the house owner to detect any intrusion by termites and prevent water seepage which would eventually cause the stilts to rot. In some such houses, the airy space beneath the house is used for hanging clothes during rainy weather. Cars and bikes are also parked within. If you notice, this one had a small storage or garage built beside it.  

There are not many such similar structures around the country and I have not seen one like these two for many years. As such I decided to stop and do a sketch of one of the houses. I did not do a full painting because of the location from where I was seated. It was just at the side of the road that was the main thoroughfare. The cars being driven into Batu Gajah town were not slowing down and from where I sat, it would be difficult for them to spot me as they made the approach.

Just as I was about to finish the sketch, a local drove his Proton right into the tiny space by the road in front of where I was seated. Luckily his wife spotted me and asked him to reverse so as not to obstruct my view. I decided to finish the sketch quickly and get out because the car was dangerously perching on the side of the road and inviting an accident.

Curious story of gratitude

I WAS at my in-laws’ home in Malacca recently when the house phone rang. The caller wanted to speak with my father-in-law who was then taking a bath. When I asked the man if he would like to call back, he requested that I take a message instead. With a pen and paper in hand, I told him to begin.

To my surprise, he rattled off with a list of sundry goods. Thinking he was mistaken, I explained that my father-in-law had stopped operating his sundry shop more than five years ago. The caller said he knew that but added he had been ordering provisions from him all these years.

Not knowing what was pre-agreed between the caller and my father-in-law, I took the order.

When my father-in-law was done with his bath, I told him about the phone call and promptly passed him the slip of paper containing a list of several household items the caller wanted. Curious, I asked him about the caller.

My father in law said that the man was a long-time customer who lived 12km away. He had been ordering his monthly provisions despite knowing my father-in-law had ceased his business. When I asked my father-in-law why he continued to fulfil the man’s orders, he told me this story.

My father-in-law got to know this customer forty years ago when he was starting out in the sundry business. At that time, the man was a trishaw pedaller and the sole breadwinner of a family of seven.

He used to pedal his trishaw all the way from his home to my father-in-law’s shop every month to shop for his household needs. Sometimes he had cash at hand to pay for the provisions. Other times, my father-in-law gave him the goods on credit.

When he took groceries on credit, he would settle the payment within a month or two. Sometimes, he took six months, but he never reneged on his debt.

Years later, when his kids grew up and found their own jobs, the combined household income improved, allowing the man to move out of his dilapidated wooden shack into a brick house and lead a better life.

However, he still continued to make the monthly trip to my father-in-law’s shop. Sometimes he would come to the shop with his wife on his motorcycle. Other times, he would place an order through phone. My father-in-law would then deliver the goods. The arrangement has continued till this day.

I asked my father-in-law “wouldn’t it be easier to ask your long-time customer to just shop at one of the big hypermarkets in his area?

“The costs incurred from buying and delivering the goods are hardly worth the meagre profits you make.”

With a laugh, my father-in-law said that he would continue to deliver his last customer’s orders until the latter stopped ordering. He reasoned that it would keep him occupied now, since he was free. But more importantly, he said, he owed this man a debt of gratitude.

“This man bought from me at a time when I needed his business,” my father-in-law explained.

“He could have chose to buy his provisions from other sundry shops in the area, yet, he did not. Instead he would cycle all the way from his home to our shop.

“When I first stopped my business, it was he who bought whatever stock I had left. I thought he would stop once all leftover goods were sold but he didn’t.

“He continued to order from me till this day and I will continue to deliver to him as long as I am able to and as long as he wants to order.”

I was glad I answered the phone call from my father-in-law’s last customer that afternoon. If I had not, like many of his neighbours, I would have missed out on the wisdom in what appeared to be a 75-year-old man’s folly.

These days, how many of us remember to be thankful for the little things we have, let alone show gratitude for the events and people who led us to this station of life?

 At a glance, what my father-in-law did was honourable but unprofitable. But the wisdom in it was definitely a much needed lesson on loyalty.

Air of serenity at Perak Tong

I painted this scene using a single Chinese brush. How the painting turned out
 was quite amazing (see inset). I used the texture of the paper to produce the misty-like effect. 

The Perak Tong Chinese Temple is located along Jalan Kuala Kangsar, about six kilometres north of Ipoh and it is among the most picturesque places of worship for the Chinese and a tourist attraction that has drawn people from afar. During the first and fifteenth day of the lunar month and on major festivals, the temple teems with devotees.

Surrounded by lush greenery, it has a well-kept yard which includes a pool and several pergolas for visitors to rest and enjoy the scenery. The best time to be here to enjoy the tranquil atmosphere is in the morning when the shadow from the tall limestone hill is cast onto the yard. During the afternoons, the casuarina trees dotting the yard also provide a cool respite.

I painted the façade of the cave temple complex and tried to capture the softness of the greenery using wet-on-wet technique. As I was painting, several monkeys descended from the hills and got closer to me. Fortunately, one of the temple sweepers who were around shouted out at the primate and drove it back into the trees.

I was told that the monkeys here were as mischievous as those in Batu Caves in Selangor. No sooner than he has spoken, another yell was heard from the other side of the temple ground. Apparently a monkey had made off with a Tupperware containing food which was carelessly left in a visitor’s motorcycle basket.

 

There is a lake in front of the temple complex which I will leave to paint another day. m