Kepayang Wild Plants and The Way of Nature




The path to the railway track. Now inaccessible




The path as it was before

Last August we went balik kampong back to Kampung Kepayang Fair Park. It had been quite a long while since we were last in Kepayang.

Being left for a long period of time is the surest way of getting one's home being run by overgrowths. Luckily Emak's house is regularly attended to at least in terms of keeping the lawns trimmed.

But a brief walk around the old house introduced me to a sampling of wild plants which call the compounds of my mother's house home.

They are beautiful in their own way, though. Each a creation of God. Ever thriving. Ever dutiful in going about their own business.

Left to their own device, of course they would overrun the lawns, footpaths and whatever structures in their way.

That is what my brother Man found out during his recent trip back last week. The old footpath leading to the railway tracks is now inaccessible!

Nature always goes her own way.

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Buah Letup letup anyone?

I was in Trolak last weekend for a short course on macro economics. Yup, its back to school, folks. The course was held at the FELDA Residence, a small campus just off the Federal Highway Route 1, way, way off any distractions like shopping complexes and mamak stalls, even.

On the way to class, I spotted a familiar looking plant with its twines climbing up a tree and fruits ripe for  the picking. It was the buah 'letup-letup' as we call it in Malay.

It has been quite some time since I last saw this plant. During my growing up days at the kampong, I used to pick its small fruits and ate them just like that. Sweet and delicious they are!

The letup-letup is a common wild plant in many parts of the world. They can be found in Europe, America and the rest of Asia. So, it was not just my brothers and I who competed with the birds to enjoy them fruits. Most likely, even kids in Europe and the rest of the world were at it, too. So says the wikipedia.

But the wikipedia also says that the plant originates from South America and the Caribbeans. Now, this I find quite hard to believe. If so, how did the plant turn up in my kampong? For there is no way that a South American, nor someone from the Caribbeans, could have journeyed to Kampong Kepayang, Ipoh with seeds of this humble plant.

Yes, I have heard strange tales and stories of my kampong from atok and opah. But never did they mention anything about foreigners ending up at our little kampong, except for the Japanese during the World War II. 

Then again, who knows?

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Double-tracking comes to Kg Kepayang

The railway line passes by our kampong. As far as I can remember, it has always been there. The trains pass by every few hours daily and as they approach, we were sure to feel the rumbling and vibration and hear the unmistakable chugging noise of the engine.

We used to spend many happy hours playing on the track and the areas within its vicinity. We used to fly kites here with Apak. We used to lay nails on the track so that they'd be flattened by the trains untuk buat pisau. We used to wait and watch for the trains to pass. Or sometimes, we'd just come here just to take in the beautiful views of the limestone hills and the trees and the long rail track which disappears into the horizon.

There used to be just a single track. But now, as the picture above shows, there are three!

Actually the line is undergoing the double tracking development as part of the northern Electrified Double Track project from Ipoh to Padang Besar.

A massive 329-km project, it involves the laying of two new parallel tracks to replace the existing single-track. In the picture above, the track on the right and in the middle are the two newly laid ones. Whilst the one on the left is the old one which will be removed soon.

The electrical cables and power system are not yet in place. Once those are up, electric-powered trains will swoosh by our kampong like never before.

Modernity comes to quaint, old Kg Kepayang.

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Rindu kampong halaman di pagi Raya

All my life, except for the nine years I'd been studying overseas, I have always spent Hari Raya at my kampong with Emak and Apak.

Even after marriage, if we were to celebrate the first day of Raya at the Mem's place, I will always end up in Kampong Kepayang, eventually. It is something which I look forward to very much. And so do my kids.

It is a unique and distinctive time of the year. In the build up to Hari Raya, our kampong house would be a hive of activities for the preparation of the Hari Raya spread. There would be laughters, shoutings and even the occassianal crying as the children kid around. And the air would be filled with a combination of delicious aromas of the food being prepared.

But this year it is a bit different. Actually, it is a lot different.

Here I am di pagi Raya, and still in KL. For this time, my family and I are staying put in Kuala Lumpur for the whole of Hari Raya as my mother is here with us. And so is my grandmother. 

So there's no need to balik kampong. But hopefully - in fact I expect - all my brothers and sister to come and join us once they are done with celebrating with their in-laws . If not, it might be one lonely Raya celebration for my family here. Thankfully, Zizah and family have already arrived from JB yesterday evening.

Time flies, and things change. I guess I shall have to get used to this new way.

But I will definitely miss the festive atmosphere of a Hari Raya in the kampong.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidil Fitri to all. May ALlah bless us with the opportunity to witness the coming of next year's Ramadhan. Ameen.


Rindu Syahdu Di Hari Raya

Indahnya sungai yang mengalir
Nyamanya angin yang beralun
Kicauan burung dipagi yang dingin
Bersama terbitnya mentari

Terbayang sanak saudara
Gurauan sesama keluarga
Mesra berkunjung ruih suasana
Riang menyambut hari mulia

Kini ku di perantauan
Di kota indah dan menawan
Tapi hati rindu pada kampung halaman
Desaku yang telah di tinggalkan

Ku memohon maaf serta ampun
Salamkan ku kirim pengganti diri
Doa restu ayah serta ibu
Menjadi penawar
Rindu syahdu di hari raya

Nyanyian: Nurul Abdul Wahab

Charming Kg Kepayang Fair Park

A traditional village it might be, but sleepy, laid-back Kg. Kepayang Fair Park - my birth place - has its own rustic charms and attractions.

Enjoy some pictures from my recent trip back home.



The kampong's padang

Plentiful wild flowers near the railway line

The railway line which now has double-tracking. Quite a lot has changed here, compare this picture with the one at the top of this blog (masthead) which shows the same spot about 40 years ago



The bridge over Sungai Kinta - it links "Kepayang Dalam" and "Kepayang Luar"

The famous Sungai Kinta, after which comes the name of Kinta Valley which was once the richest tin mining area in the world

Durian dah berbunga!

Some of you would remember the Perak-born comedian, Os singing,

"Oh kome, deghoyan dah berbunga...".

Well, durian dah berbunga indeed at Kampong Kepayang Fair Park, my kampong.

For those of you who haven't seen the flower of a durian tree take a good look at the pic above taken this morning in front of my mum's house. Beautiful, aren't they?

There are three durian trees at Mak's house. Looking at their flower blooms, there's a good chance that this Hari Raya we'll be having durian for breakfast, pulut durian for lunch, and bubur durian for dinner.

The well that Tok Hussein built

The pic above shows my brothers Azmi and Azman posing by the well that our Tok Hussein built for his house in Kampong Kepayang.

That pic must have been taken more than 40 years ago - during the days when our kampong still had no pottable water supply.

Actually this particular well was the second that Tok Hussein built. The first one was about ten metres away from this. I can't recall why, but one day, that old one was filled up and covered and Tok started digging this new well with the help of neighbours.

If memory serves me, this new well was about 5 metres deep to the surface of the water. So its actual depth must have been deeper.

Initially, Tok Hussein fashioned a device to help us pull pails of water up by rope. Later, this was replaced by a simple manual pump.

Those were the hard days.

Kanji Kampong Kepayang

Masjid Al Khairiah, Kampong Kepayang Fair Park, where the kanji Kepayang is prepared

Just got back from Ipoh this afternoon after visiting my parents. I try to go back once a month to look after Apak and Emak’s necessities. But the mid-Ramadhan visit is an annual affair – almost a must for me.

I would not miss it for a couple of reasons.

First, it is simply to be with Apak and Emak for berbuka puasa.

According to one hadith, the iftar (berbuaka puasa) is one of two joyous occasions for Muslims who fast. It’s true. When we were small, I remember how happy my siblings and I would be when iftar was approaching.

We would be popping in and out of the kitchen spying on what food Emak was preparing for iftar. And the last ten minutes before iftar was a right riot around the dinner table. Well, almost. What with the sound of groaning (someone suffering from hunger), whooping of joy (over-excited at the sight of glorious spread on the table) and the noise of plates and spoons clanging and banging. It was just wonderful.

Apak and Emak must have enjoyed those moments too. But now that all their children are grownup and staying in faraway KL, I am sure that they will miss the fun and joys from such occassions. And if I dare say it, there could be a sense of loneliness, too.

So I say to myself: Emak and Apak have both given me so much in life. Therefore, hitting the highway once a year to have iftar with them, in order to make them happy and brighten up their Ramadhan a little, is such a small sacrifice to make. After all, what is it compared to all the sacrifices that they have done for me?

Now, the other reason is “kanji Kampong Kepayang”.

For as long as I can remember, Kampong Kepayang folks have been preparing the kanji (or bubur lambuk as it is commonly called elsewhere) for free distribution to Muslims in the neighbourhood. When I was small, during Ramadhan, I would join the other kids to queue up (surround the poor cook, actually) with a “sia tingkat” in hand to get our share of kanji.

Kanji Kampong Kepayang is very tasty. Its taste and texture is almost similar to the famous bubur lambuk Kampung Baru, in KL. So it would not be uncommon to see people from outside the Kampong also making a beeline for the mosque where the kanji is cooked daily during Ramadhan. This includes people from Meru, Sg Senam, Ipoh Garden, Canning Garden, Tasek and Greentown.

Apak told me that when he first came to Kampong Kepayang at the age of 12, kanji Ramadhan was already a tradition in the Kampong. That was in 1948. At that time, the chief cook was my Nyang Lias. He was followed by Hj Isa. The current cook is an old friend of mine, Ani, Hj Isa’s son-in-law. The cook has changed, but the porridge remains the same – delicious.

The kanji is prepared using donations from individuals, families and even some corporate entities, all eager to reap some rewards from the bountiful ‘pahala’ which Allah promises during this month of barakah.

Unlike in many other places, kanji Kepayang is cooked in a big kuali. Everyday two kuali-full of kanji is prepared using 30kg of rice. According to Ani’s helper, on some days that is still not enough as many would have to return home empty handed.

If that is not a testimony to kanji Kepayang’s greatness, then I don’t know what is.

So, next time, when you can’t get your bubur lambuk Kampung Baru, make a detour and head north to Kampong Kepayang Fair Park in Ipoh. You won't regret it.

All hail the king of fruits

It’s July, and it is the durian season in Perak.

Last week when I went back to Ipoh they were selling the “king of fruits” at RM3.00 per kg at the Stadium Perak. Today, after visiting Sakinah at her Polytechnic near Tanjung Malim, we stopped over at Behrang Station to check out the local durians. They were selling at RM4.00 per kg there.

Although I am not what Perak people would call a “hantu durian”, I do love durian. My love affair with the fruit goes back a long way to my pre-school days in Kampong Kepayang.

My Opah’s father, Nyang Sani, used to have a dusun at the far end of the village located in a valley by the Kinta River. Thus, we used to call the dusun simply, “Lembah”.

I remember our trips down to Lembah. It was a ten minutes walk along a trail well-established by Nyang Sani’s daily trek to Lembah to tend to his dusun. Towards the last part of the walk we would descend down a steep slope, and once at the bottom of it one would immediately see Nyang Sani’s well-attended dangau.

Lembah was a cool, well-shaded enclave. Tall durian trees surrounded the dangau. Other fruit trees included rambutan, nangka, cempedak and the odd pokok pisang, if my memory serves me correctly.

The dangau always had an open fire with smoke rising from it to help ward off hungry mosquitoes. During durian seasons we would lie down in wait for the durian fruits to fall from the trees around us.

When looking for the fruits under the trees we would have to wade through the long grass and thick undergrowths. But it was exciting. It was like a treasure hunt of sorts for us kids. The leeches would of course have a field day too, sucking on our blood. But kampong boys are not deterred by the odd pacat or two.

That was ages ago, now.

Now that I have a family of my own, I can’t help but compare how my kids experience their durian season. To them, durian season is marked by the few visits to the local durian stall. They cannot be relied to prise open a durian on their own, even if it was to feed themselves !

But they love durian nevertheless. Although my eldest, Sakinah, was not really into durian, her stay at the Polytechnic in an area where durian is cheap and in abundant has more or less converted her.

As for the Mem Besar, a Kedahan, getting hitched to a Perakian has forced her to acquire a taste for not only durian, but the wholesome fermented durian that is tempoyak.

Rider's log No.27: Kampong Kepayang

Map of the route taken. Gunung Lang is the dark green patch in the middle of the map.

Date: 12 July 2008 (Saturday)

Set off/finish time: 4.35 pm to 5.55 pm

Total duration: 1 hour 20 minutes (+ 25 minutes stoppage to shelter from rain downpour)

Starting point: Rumah Mak, K.1, Kampong Kepayang Fair, Ipoh

Route taken: Mak’s house, railway line (crossed over), Gunung Lang, Tmn Rekreasi Gunung Lang, Jalan Kuala Kangsar, Anderson School, Fair Park, Arena Kepayang, and back home.

Distance covered: 13.11km

Max. speed: 35.3km/h

Trail condition: 25% rough surface (no established trail at all), the rest on road.

General notes:

I’d been thinking of doing this ride for sometime.

It’s no ordinary ride in more ways than one.

Firstly, it’s my first ride in Ipoh. And starting off from my Mak’s house, lagi.

Second, it’s a totally un-tried route. There was no visible trail for the first couple of kilometers. In fact I had to carry my bike over a large drain twice! No crossing aid available. Not even in the form of a simple, one-plank bridge.

And thirdly, after four generations of keluarga Opah Badariah staying in Kampong Kepayang, I think this was the first time one of us had gone all the way to Gunung Lang, and beyond, to reach Jalan Kuala Kangsar.

All this while, Jalan Kuala Kangsar was a long distance away from us in Kampong Kepayang. It would take a good 6 to 8 km detour around Gunung Lang, via Fair Park, passing by Taman D.R. Seenivasagam and Bandar Baru Ipoh Raya to reach it.

And as it also turned out, this was the first time I got caught in the rain while riding!

Actually, Mak had warned me not to wander too far off. But the little child in me – as always – would do just what Mak says not to.

So it was not surprising that I got “punished” like I always would be whenever I go against her advice. This time, I got soaked in the rain. My shirt (and even the helmet) got stained with mud.

Lesson of the day: always listen to your mum.

My Merida SUB40: ready to roll

Gunung Lang: It is like the Fobidden Valley for my brothers and I. We always looked at it from afar in wonder what lies beyond the railway line. Wierd stories abound

Dark clouds forming - the rain is coming

My bike ready to be carried over across the big drain

Kampong Kepayang as seen from Gunung Lang's direction. Somewhere beyond the durian trees is Mak's house

The railway line (southbound). Preliminary earthwork being carried out for double tracking. Machineries visible on left side of track

The goods train (keretapi barang) making its way north

New housing scheme near Gunung Lang

Buffalos roam freely in Gunung Lang country

My bike taking a break during the heavy downpour. Also seen is motorcycle rider who is also taking a shelter from the rain

New masthead for Seri Kepayang blog

My blog has got this new masthead since last week (can't remember what day it was).

Now, I must say something about the new masthead.

It is courtesy of my brother Mie, who is the artist in the family - he has been drawing and doodling since as far as I can remember.

The photo shows my Opah's house as it was in the 1950s. My guess is it was taken sometime before Merdeka.

This is the place I was born, err... a long time after that photo was taken.

It used to be surrounded by thick under growths, especially to its west (that's at the back of the house as shown in the photo). That was where I saw a small tiger (okay, maybe it was a kucing hutan) when I was a kid!

Yup, I kid you not.

Kampong Kepayang is a real, authentic Malay kampong. Even to this day - minus the kucing hutan, of course.

Farewell to Ipoh's Fair Park

Buildings make up most of a city’s built-up area. When well-designed, even a single building is enough to stand out with its attractive appearance. In a group, they constitute an even stronger presence as a visual feast for the eyes.

However, in our age of mega-sized shopping malls and multi-storey office complexes, it is very easy to overlook some of these aging, but otherwise quaint and, historical structures.

One such example is the Fair Park residential scheme in Ipoh, an area with a strong character and history of its own.

Fair Park is a British Colonial period housing scheme located right smack in the centre of Ipoh city, off-Jalan Kamaruddin Isa – formerly Fair Park Road. But when it was first built, in the 1930’s, it was to be found on the outskirt of Ipoh town. Just beyond it would be forests and kampong areas, including Kampong Kepayang Fair Park – my birth place.

When I was small, I remember going to the hairdresser’s in Fair Park, pillion riding on my Tok Hussein’s motorbike. We’d pass by the single row of wooden shophouses before passing through Fair Park itself. The hairdresser’s was just across the main road from the earliest section of Fair Park to have been built.

Those were the days. You can imagine, thus, why Fair Park has a special place in my heart. This place is inextricably linked to my Kampong Kepayang – physically, in name, as well as, the fond childhood memories it brings.

According to Ms Rosy Tan, a resident for 30 odd years, Fair Park was developed in 1939. The oldest section, which sits on an area of about 2 acres, comprises 60 terrace-housing units arranged in five parallel rows of 10 separate blocks.

It was designed by a British architect firm, Iverson & Co. It had a handsome design with modern facilities. All housing units have three bedrooms and a toilet. Each toilet comes with a flushing system – something of a novelty (not to mention a rarity) for houses back in the 1930s.

The houses also come with a chimney up on the roof. But it is for the cooking stove rather than a living area fireplace.

A concrete entrance canopy grace the front of the houses providing some shade and protection from rain. However, it is rather small compared to what we Malaysians are used to today. Nevertheless, the front façade have remained intact as none of the units have any additional structure to their canopies. This, to me, is quite amazing, when you consider that one of our favourite national past time is extending our houses.

I am not clear as to the architectural style of Fair Park. However, it was built and designed in the late 1930s when Art Deco was the in thing. To my untrained eyes, some traces of this can be detected in the form of the concrete canopies above the front windows.

Being the latest offering of an up-market housing area meant that Fair Park attracted mostly English tenants when it was first completed. In fact, if one were to flag down a rickshaw to go to Fair Park back then, one has only to mention “kee ah molau” – which means “English house” in Chinese – for you to be promptly taken there.

My Emak still remembers that, when she was making her way home from her primary school those days, she would often stop by along the way to play around with the Mat Salleh kids.

After Malaya’s independence, most of the Mat Sallehs left for Britain. However, Fair Park continued to be an affluent and exclusive community. The Mat Sallehs were soon replaced by rich Chinese towkays and prominent Ipoh professionals – doctors, lawyers and politicians. Heck, if there was a Bel Air for Ipoh in the pre-Merdeka days, it would have been Fair Park!

Alas, after almost 70 years standing tall, Fair Park is now being demolished to make way for new development. This, I sadly discovered last weekend when I was back in Ipoh to visit my parents.
A check around the neighborhood revealed conflicting answers as to what will be developed over Fair Park’s site. “A health centre” offered Ms Rosy Tan. Yet the local newspaperman was quite adamant that it shall be a multi-storey shopping complex.

Whatever stands in place of the old Fair Park, things would never be the same again for this part of Ipoh. And as the old English saying goes: “out of sight, out of mind”. Soon enough Fair Park will be forgotten and lost in history.

This need not have been the case. For if the authorities had been more sensitive to history, some research would have established the social and historical significance of Fair Park. Its architectural values could have been documented.

The place could have been conserved. Even if that was not possible, at least the documentations would have been useful for future generations as a record of Ipoh history, as well as, a homage to a piece of our heritage.





Traces of Art Deco features


Window details


Quaint: front elevation of a single unit

Green seperation in between blocks

Chimney for the cooking stove below

Side elevation of a block

The road dividing two rows facing each other. A cosy and relaxing atmosphere. Just imagine this space teeming with life and activities back in its heydays.

Side wall

Second floor. Notice the red brick used for construction. They are still in good form.

Close-up of front entrance. Notice the extension over the front door and window which is the original concrete entrance canopy.

Cooking area. I'm not sure what type of cooker was used. Charcoal? Firewood?

Winding staircase up to the second floor. Notice the small squarish tiles.

There are only three units left still with occupants. The rest have left to make way for the demolition job. This is the front view of Ms Rosy Tan's residence.


Sprightly and friendly Ms Rosy Tan

Ms Tan's beautiful front garden


Close-up of Ms Tan's front entrance

View from inside Ms Tan's house looking out to her front garden

Some of Ms Tan's most valued belongings arranged on the floor of her living room. When we visited her, she was in the process of moving out. A small lorry duly arrived sometime later and the driver and his helpers started filling up their lorry with Ms Tan's things

Ms Tan's post box

Another resident was octogenarian, Mr Mak (right). He is seen here relating stories of how he has been hounded by workers of the demolition job contractors to move out as soon as possible. Window panes and light bulbs have been broken in order to intimidate him, said Mr Mak.

Mr Mak is a school bus driver and he lives alone. This is his trusted ride. "Dia umur sudah lima puluh tahun", said Mr Mak of his Mercedes Benz mini bus.

Scene of demolition job in progress

This is the view of a slightly newer section of Fair Park. This was built in early 1940s, according to my Emak. Another piece of heritage waiting to lost forever? I sure hope not

The Fair Park name signage by the side of the main road Jalan Kamaruddin Isa. How long will this continue to stand here? Forever, I hope. But for now, its farewell to old Fair Park.