Monday, December 11, 2017

Melang vs Merak Kayangan & Tg, Malim revisited.

Monday December 11, 2017.


The school holidays mean lots and lots of weddings to attend. But when family members are involved, the choice is limited.

Ati's daughter, Husna, got married on Saturday 2nd December, at Melang Inn Hotel, KP.  Bok's daughter was married that night in KL at Merak Kayangan. Ati's must be attended, of course, but Bok is also family, and he'd pleaded that I  come.  He even got the plane ticket for Idah to go to Kota Bharu on 8th. for the"menyalang" there. Just a couple of days before that, Idah felt she should, instead of Kota Bharu, join me to Kuala Kangsar for Husna's "menyalang" there. 

It appeared at first Melang Inn won't be in the same class as Merak Kayangan. How can it be, "Paradise" against Melang, the former rubbish dump  of Kuala Pilah town ?  In the end, Melang Inn turned out  nicer than Merak Kayangan.

A lot of money must have gone for Bok's reception. Why, even his RSVP invitation card outweighed Ati's by about 100 times. But Melang Inn turned out quite tasteful and so much more family. Merak Kayangan's sit down dinner had its trappings of selected dignitaries, "silat" and live music, with numbered tables and domed dishes. Melang Inn was "buffet style" and Minus-1 karaoke music. Bok's was stiff and too long, and Ati's cosy, noisy and long enough. And surely Ati's table was tastier and the desserts so much more varied and enjoyable. And after all the pleas to come, Bok didn't even come to my table. He was too concerned with his VIP guests, and I know they are of very recent origins.  He may be a millionaire many times over to-day, but he shouldn't forget that he was put on his first million by me, when he was struggling for work in 1985. Now I shouldn't forget about Soo Pin's 20K for my 1995 campaign that never reached me going through him. 

On the 9th. about 5 car-loads of us, Ati's siblings, trooped to Kuala Kangsar for the return ceremony. Hadi had booked for us a home-stay close to his house in Kampong Jamuan. The double-storey bungalow easily housed all of us, with room to spare. I had also alternatively booked a hotel room in Kuala Kangsar town, just in case,  but decided to stay at the relatively comfortable home-stay.

But before Kuala Kangsar, we had decided to make a detour to Tanjong Malim. The incredibly bad traffic made that decision easier, and it was a good decision. 

From 1951 to 1956 we stayed in Tanjong Malim. That's 61 long years ago !

Dad was a lecturer at the then Sultan Idris Training College. I attended Std. 1 to Std. 4 at Sekolah Latihan Tanjung Malim, and SMC 1 & 2 at the nearby Methodist English School until 1956. Yan was born here, a breach-birth that caused her learning difficulties later because of oxygen deprivation. I showed her the location of the old hospital. They have  moved. 

Much earlier, when talking about this Kuala Kangsar trip when Husna got engaged, I had mentioned of the daun pisang Indian shop in Tanjung Malim. Calit remembered and mentioned it just before we left on Saturday. But we couldn't find the stall, and Calit inquired at a couple of eating shops, and was told "no daun pisang shop, only Indian eating shops".  So we ended up at the famous  Yik Mun pau shop on the Slim River road at the end of what was the old town main road. It's now a large junction pointing north-south to the highway.  We  had  yong tau foo and mee curry. And some paus, after that.

Sunday, before the "jamuan" at Kampong Jamuan, the three of us, Calit, Din Pendek & I went for a ride to Kati town and around KK. Actually, we got a bit lost in the process, but because of that I ended up at the KK Golf Club that I didn't know existed. If I knew, I would have brought my clubs, because definitely there was time for a quick round in that 9-hole flat course. While driving, Conen called, and we waited for him in front of the mosque opposite MCKK, and led him to our home stay, but not before losing our way one more time. 

We had a "baca Yasin" at Hadi's house the night before. The Sunday reception was standard and ok, and we all left for home around half-past two. Just like the coming trip, the return journey also had its traffic jam, only worse, and with intermittent rain for flavour. All the rest areas we tried to stop at were choked  with cars trying to do the same thing. We finally stopped at Tapah, and even then waited forever for a van to vacate a spot. The driver and his passengers had got into the vehicle for 10 minutes. He probably fiddled with his phone or purposely wanted to irritate us.  Then another stop for satay at Dengkil.  It was 10.30 when we reached the house. Whew!


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