Across the Causeway II

Courtesy: johor48.rssing.com

      

     


     Stops Along the Tracks

It was around midnight

When the train groaned to a halt

At Kluang Station

Written in bold black

On a stark white board 

Rows of yellow wooden benches

Matched the wooden offices

Next to the ticket booth

Was a Chinese coffee shop

With its round, marble table tops

And curved wooden chairs

The kopitiams was run by Hainanese operators

Who served thick white loaves, steamed or toasted 

Generously splattered with Planta margarine

And thick layers of golden kaya spread

Half-boiled eggs splashed with dark soya sauce

And strong, black coffee in chipped porcelain cups

It seemed like yesterday

When we got off here

To spend our school holidays

In Kahang, about 40 miles away

We arrived at the tiny hut

In the middle of the paddy field

Which was ripe for harvesting

Pa had cleared the land and planted the grain

With help from his adopted sons

Razali, a mualaf, and a couple more young men

With unusual Javanese names which slipped my mind

Jobless youths whom Pa had befriended

While at Outram 
Or the tea shop at Central

 

The simple, country life was a new experience

We woke up to the sounds of birds chirping

The sight of golden paddy fields was refreshing

A splash of cold water from the pump

Boiled tapioca and sweet potatoes for breakfast

Boiled rice for lunch, withulam and fish from the parit

Narrow waterways in between the paddy plots

The boys brought home sepat, keli and haruan

Which Mak cleaned with lots of tamarind

And boiled with santan in earthen pots

Or fried and grilled them with tumeric
Dipped in soy sauce with cut chillis and garlics

Sometimes after our morning meal

Razali took us up the trail

Which led to the winding river 

As we passed the bamboo thickets

We took a deep breath

At the top of the rickety stairs

The clear water which flowed below

Lured us to brave the steep descent

To the jetty by the deep end

Where Razali left his rakit

A flat bamboo raft

Tied firmly with vines

Which ferried us across to the shallow, sandy bank

There we waded and splashed

Ma had our laundry washed

And Razali swam after small items

Swept away by the currents

We couldn't believe our eyes

When we spotted a snake with its ornaments

In a hollowed cavern
On the opposite bank

And heard a tiger's distant roar

Which made us quickly leave that shore

The kampong folks were full of tales

Of Sang Kelembai, the Fierce Ogre

Who felled the tall trees with both his arms

And Bunians, the sprites and nymphs

With their hidden communities

While on a walking tour one evening

The local guide pointed to a grass clearing
He whispered: 

“This is the site of the Bunian hamlet

They’re just like humans

But they inhabit a different dimension”

As if to welcome us

A sweet fragrant filled the air

“Be careful not to walk alone  

There had been cases of young men

Taken by the Bunians”

These creatures, it seemed

Had lured loners and simpletons

To be wedded to their women

Which sounded like the infatuation

Between Titania and Nick Bottom

Not long after our adventure in Kahang

We heard from Razali that the paddy project had bombed

They failed to harvest the ripened stalks before they wilted

And were out of funds to pay the workers' wages

When Pa returned home depressed

We were careful not to ruffle his feathers

It was the middle of the night

When suddenly everyone stirred

As the train approached the interchange

At Gemas, Negri Sembilan

Unlike Kluang and other smaller stations

Gemas had another set of railway tracks
Which branched off to the East Coast states -
Pahang, Terengganu and Kelantan

And passengers bound for those destinations

Got off and boarded another set of wagons

The stop was longer than at other stations

Indeed it was a chance to stretch our legs

Sip hot coffee or drop in at the public toilets

Since very few ventured beyond our seats
To reach the dining car and stinky WCs

During such long stops

Food peddlers got on board

To sell curry puffs, nuts and sweetened drinks

Ma made up her mind
We should refresh ourselves

And refuel at the kopitiam

With a clean Good Morning towel

Rinsed at the nearby sink

She scrubbed our faces of oil and grime

And ordered warm steamed buns

With cups of hot Ovaltine

My new belted dress

With its short, puffed sleeves

Was not exactly travel friendly

But Ma thought our friends and family

Should remember us at our most trendy

As the youngest

I was doted upon

Much to Mal's chagrin

Who revelled in horror stories

About me being a Changeling

And about Ma keeping a toyol

A chubby imp who stole money when he was told

And a pelesit, an evil spirit unleashed to wreak revenge

To be passed on to the last offspring