A Serious Trip Down Memory Lane, Ulu Kinta, Feb 17, 2008

What a nostalgic journey it was. I did not really plan it but got suck into it as I was driving home from Kulim that Sunday. I already made up my mind to stop at Ipoh after our usual sojourned to Kuala Kangsar Sunday Market as I was driving on the highway. The reason for stopping at Ipoh was just to kill time as I did not want to be home too early. When I was nearing Ipoh I remembered Bro Azahar mentioned to me where the old Ulu Kinta Police Field Force Camp was and I decided to find it after we had our time and lunch at the Kinta City Center.

I took the Tambun road and drove ahead expecting to see the signage of the camp any minute. But I knew it was not that soon but my eagerness was overwhelming me. I seriously thought it would be soon. What do you expect coming from somebody that half of his brain had gone nostalgic. I drove on until I saw the signage that says Kem PGA Briged Utara, Ulu Kinta and turned right into a junction. I knew I was at the right place the moment we arrived at the gate. Imagine how I felt when I stared for a while at the surrounding trying to remember the details. I could still remember the small waterfall aka stream that we frequent just outside the gate on the left. From the Ranger my view did not register anything but deep down I knew I was at the same place. We moved out of the camp to Galing Camp, Kuantan almost 40 years ago. I was just going to be standard 2 primary school student then. I just could not believe most of the buildings were still standing.

As we drove in


A lot of trees now then I was like an x-mining area



The end of the blocks I seriously thought there were more




During our second passing


Our Block D. My Mum told me our flat was Level 6 Flat number 2 (Tngkat 6, Pintu n 2)

I walked towards the guard house and explained to the officer there my intention. I told him that I used to stay there when I was small and wished to go inside to see the place. He asked for my IC and registered me in. When I asked him he told me all the original buildings were still intact and none was taken down. I was really surprise to hear that but still when I drove in I did not know what to expect. I strained my eyes as well as my rusty brain to remember the place but the only thing that I could register was the Padang Kawad. The buildings seemed to me were less from what they were used to be. I remember when I was small there were rows of high-rise buildings. But what I had in front of me was row and row of unrecognizable ten story buildings. I was trying very hard to identify our block but I just could not remember which one it was. In the effort to really remember it I even asked Baqir to be the cameraman. Still in the end I could only guess guided by my instinct and decided our block to be Block D. I drove around the camp slowly attracting onlookers by the roadside. My second past around was even slower and I stopped at Block D again to take few shots of the building. In the end having exhausted my memory I tried to locate my old school that I knew just outside the camp. I still remember I used to walk towards the parameter and exit through one of the gate to school but during my driving around I could not identify the route. So when I was at the guard house to collect my IC and thank the officer I asked him about the school. I was very glad and excited when he told me the school was still there at its original place and I could go there by driving around along the camp’s parameter. I just could not wait and be there fast enough.

They have added two new blocks since then but other than that the school just remained as it was when I left it in 1968. There it was in front of me Sekolah Kebangsaan Pasukan Polis Hutan, Ulu Kinta. Standing and looking inside through a locked gate I could see myself walking through the gate to my classroom which was that the bottom and the end of the one classroom block building nearest to the gate. A term before all of us went to the Tg Rambutan Primary which was few kilometers away from the camp. So we knew each other when we were there on our first day at the school. I could also see myself running around the building playing police sentry loudly with my friends. There I was pushing and shoving to buy food at the school canteen. How in the classroom we were seated in a cluster of four according to our last academic performance and the last thing that I remember clearly was during our end of the year school performance day that I was dressed by my class teacher as an Arab for the whole day. For that I won second place. All these it seems to me just like they happened just yesterday. To be honest that was how I felt when I stood there staring at the empty school. In actual fact it had been almost 40 years. I like it so much if I could meet some of my old school mates there but my big problem is I do not even remember any one of them.



The school gate. Of course this was not the original


This was the only block then and my class was the first one on the lower floor


Our school canteen


The view as we drove out pf the school gate


The old school field and of course it was earth brown then


View of the school entrance as we walked in


The other gate at the side of the Camp that we used when we walked to school


My first school - Sek Keb Tg Rambutan. It is at the back of the old wooden structure. It is now Sek Keb Tamil Tg Rambutan :)

Ipoh Again After 32 Years. 9 - 10, Oct, 1999

Most of the time, we tend to think that the most interesting places to visit and write about are other countries besides our own. I took this for granted until I took my family visiting inner Malaysia. It was eyes popping for me and I have been travelling Malaysia all these while and until I finish 'doing' the whole Malaysia I will try my best not to 'do' the other countries with my family. It is not that difficult it could mean only weekend trips for some of them. My family seems to agree with me. I was blessed to have experience both ‘kampung’ and city life but not my children. To me I know exactly what it means and feels to plant a 'padi', 'menuai', tapping rubber, fishing the old ways, etc. I really pity my children because they can only read about them. Unless if could take them to these places and let them discover the experience themselves. Take it from me not only them but I sometimes felt relieved by the experience - to know what it is like and how some of us live. I hope, by doing that, they won’t take life for granted and be thankful and able to create a balance live. Ipoh Again After 32 Years I had planned to leave for Ipoh early on Oct. 9, 1999, but I was scheduled to give a lecture on web page design to teachers and students in Subang Jaya. I cannot describe how relieved I was when the organiser called the night before to say the lecture was cancelled. That meant my original plan was still a possibility. My first encounter with the place called Ipoh is more or less 32 years ago. In 1966 my late father was a Police Field Force personnel and had just been transferred to the new Ulu Kinta Camp. However, the family flats were not ready then and my dad was ‘orang bujang’ for a while there. Not until early 1967, they were ready and the whole family moved to Ipoh. That year also coincided with my first year in school and I was enrolled into Sekolah Rendah Kebangsaan Tanjung Rambutan. Thank God I was there for just a term as the new school for the camp was ready by then. The Tanjung Rambutan experience is another story for another day. Ipoh was my first real big town and to 7 years old it is really big. My father took us quite frequently there and two places that I could not forget is the bus station and one restaurant that served the best mee rebus that I have ever tasted. Now I could not remember most of them and I was hoping to relive some of that during this short trip. So, I had two reasons as to why I took my children to Ipoh that day. One, to cheer and see SDAR winning the Premier Cup for the second successive year and to see Ipoh properly as an adult. True I occasionally passed the town during our travels up north but I took them for granted. We left Kajang at 10 am and were on the Plus highway an hour later. Since we had to be in Ipoh as early as possible I drove the van hard but careful. During the journey, I kept telling the children about Ipoh but as usual, they ignored me. Instead, they asked me to sing the SDAR song…. Where aver we goooooooooo…. people want to knowwww…. Who we areeeee….. where we come from So we tell them We are SDARIAN Mighty mighty SDARIAN Rough tough SADRIAN Followed by … Den kampung senogori Den masuk askar di Port Deksyen……… So we became one fast loud van full with SDARA family heading for Ipoh. We stopped at the Bidor/Tapah R&R and met with four buses loaded with SDARIANs heading for Ipoh. After our ‘so-called’ lunch we hit the road again. I took the Simpang Pulai exit and paid Plus RM 23 for the liberty of using their concrete highway. I chose the exit so that we could ‘walk’ into Ipoh slowly and I could be a tour guide for my children. The first encounter was of course the cave dwellers. A short briefing followed immediately. My son could not actually believe that someone actually built his home inside a cave. We didn’t have time to stop but I will take him into one someday, Inshallah. When I planned to stay overnight in Ipoh the first prerequisite to book a room is to make sure the hotel has a pool for my children. This is first on their list and second is food. Since I didn’t think we have a problem with the second requirement I had booked into Ipoh Causarina Parkroyal. This was the first main building we saw as we ‘walked’ into Ipoh. We duly checked-in said our prayers and off we went straight to the Ipoh Bandaran field. I tried to look around to see if I could remember anything. Sad to say I could not, everything is new to me as new as any other person who has just come to Ipoh. I can only remember the famous railway station and the bus stop. That’s it! What a sad day for me. However, one thing that I could remember vividly was there is one restaurant that served one mean ‘Mee Sop/Rebus’ I loved it so much. Anytime we were in town then I would request, rather cried, to be taken to the restaurant to eat. At one time my late ‘Mamak’ came visiting us at Ulu Kinta Camp. The next day he took us to town and the moment we stepped out of the bus I was pulling his hand towards the restaurant. All that left were memories of the old days for me. I could not share them with my children. Of course so much has change – new buildings, shopping malls and new road systems. I was a bit disappointed when I left Ipoh that Sunday and reminded not to take things for granted.