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Jan 26, 2009

My hometown

Most of us grow up and leave our hometown in search of better life. Then we get busy with life and rarely find the time to think about it.

But there always come a certain point in your life, much later, when you mellow down and start smelling the roses as they say or earlier, you begin to long to reconnect with your past. The wonders of childhood, of your favourite playspots, the old house where you grew up, the familiar scenes…the familiar face...the memories…

Well, I just entered that stage, a bit prematurely I guess. In last year, I frequently think of my hometown. How as a child I loved getting up in the morning and standing at the window and see the sun rising over the hills. I can still see the many hues of the sunrise in my mind and its simple wonders that filled my child’s heart.

My hometown is a small hilly border town perched at the edges of one of Asia’s oldest mountain ranges. It was called Kroh before a late Sultan changed it to Pengkalan Hulu. But most of us still prefer to call it Kroh. Some say it got its name from its muddy lake where once elephants bathed themselves. Kroh is a actually a valley surrounded by a circle of hills. The temperature is much cooler compared to nearby towns being i think about 300m above sea level. It was still surrounded by virgin forest 50 years ago.

My grandfather used to talk about his encounters with tigers and I have personally seen a herd of forest deers crossing the hilly roads, one baby deer even stopped to stare at me for a while before it vanished over the cliff. It was one the most memorable moments of my life. Elephants still periodically visit local orchards.

It is mentioned in one old scripture that Malaya (as it was known then) was once a part of an ancient Indian empire (that stretched all the way to Indonesia). This whole land was reserved as a huge park for recreational activities for the royal family and kinsmen. It was also spiritual retreat for revered sages and yogis in search of enlightenment. Perhaps that’s why there is still so much of peaceful vibes in this land till today.

There are two ways to Kroh i.e. via Baling from the west or Gerik from the east. The old roads used to be winding and narrow, originally cliff trails with plunging slopes on one side, a journey not for the faint hearted.

It is uphill drive all the way and I used to love looking at the forest trees as I pass by and occasional monkeys jumping around. It is a rejuvenating to the soul, the greenery and the fresh air. The stillness of age old trees, as though they are just waiting and observing...their leaves waving almost like welcoming your homecoming...it was almost an ethereal experience. These tree had existed for decades and most probably seen my great grandparents grow up and pass on. They had witnessed the days of yonder when only bullock carts and horses used to past the trails.

Now the forests are gradually being stripped away by progress..the hills cut through to straighten the roads to accommodate modernisation. In my heart, sometimes, I fear the day I will no longer see them, like losing your heritage.

There are many wonderful spots to visit in this small town. First there are the caves that purportedly lead you through secret passageways right into the famous Baling mountain, now famous for trekkers. Imagine ancient civilization using these same pathways and you trailing their footsteps. That would a great experience.

There are waterfalls tucked away in the nest of jungles for the adventurous one.
There are also natural hot springs where I used to enjoy many picnics with my friends, classmates in our primary school days when our hearts were filled with innocence and wonder. We used to pack nasi lemak, sardine sandwiches, kacang and air sirap and cycle all the way to Air Panas from Kroh town and spend blissful days romping between the then 2 hot water pools and the flowing river nearby. The extremes of cold and hot temperature made your skin tingle and hot plate of authentic nasi lemak never tasted any better.

Yes, talking about food, Kroh has the best ice-kacang they say…all 11 ingredient altogether for half of the price of the pittance they sometimes serve you in city stalls. Also the best nasi lemak was the one served in Sekolah Kebangsaan Kroh canteen during the 70s. Even after you finish eating, the smell of belacan sambal lingers on your fingertips.

Now there is a lakeside restaurant on the elephant made lake gardens in the middle of the town is famous for its view and some local fare. Nice to sit there in late evenings and watch the sun set beyond the hills over the Tun Saban school.

Seven miles to the north, you will find Betong, a Thailand border town. Whenever someone asked me where my border town was, I used to tell them, if I opened my front door, I will be in Perak, my back door leads me to Kedah and my side door takes me to Thailand!! It amused me to see the confusion in the faces.

Kroh also boasts one of Peraks largest golf course (nine hole) now where once used to be the biggest military camp. This was once a great meadow where we did our cross country running and cow and buffalos grazed lazily. I remember growing up hearing helicopters and caribous roaring in the background. But things have quietened down these days.

During school days, I would cycle to school in the morning dew, my hair and my uniform will be damp by the time I reached school. Being a hilly town, the air was extremely wet and cold in the mornings. Oil frozen in the bottles, the water was icy and you breath formed vapors as you spoke. Those days with no water heaters, bathing was like 5 cedoks (buckets) of icy water quickly emptied over yourself before you run out of the bathroom shivering in your towel. My late grandfather used to tease that i 'mandi kerbau' meaning taking shower in haste without actually cleaning urself.

No carbon dioxide jamming your nostrils, no traffic jams and none of the usual havocs of big city. Cool fresh air all the way and the sun's heat only came up after 10am. I remember never having to use the fan in the house. Roosters waking you up before dawn and birds chirping at ur windows. Some people say it is a great place to spend retirement provided over commercialisation doesnt kill its beauty.

Who knows, if I’m lucky I’ll do just that when I reach my sixties. The land where my great grandparents and my grandparents spent their entire lifetimes. There surely must be something special there. Because somehow I don’t feel they ever actually left. Maybe that’s what that pulls us to our hometown, the lingering presence of our forefathers, the memories of childhood when everything was simple and a sense of belonging..the link to our past, present and future.

8 comments:

  1. Wonderful write. Very informative too.
    Beautiful memories. Thank you for sharing.

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  2. Great pictures. It sure brings back memories of visiting this place in the 70s when my uncle was stationed there as a policeman. His family used to live in the police compound. They used to be one of the few Indian families in Kroh. Loved Kroh then and still love it. Will definitely visit on my next trip to Malaysia.

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  3. can i link yours to my blog..?

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  4. Just to let you know that your writing is not going to waste, there are many readers out there. Keep on blogging on Keroh, thank you.

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  5. oh my... how i missed Keroh.. feel like going there right away.. agree with you.. PONNAYA ice kacang is the best.. ever..

    meormazlan@yahoo.com
    born in kg kuak luar
    then to taman sentosa
    then jalan nilam
    now residing in Shah Alam

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  6. I remember Kroh with the winding, narrow roads with steep slopes...seems several lifetimes ago...I guess progress is good for the residents, but not so good for nostalgia...but that's selfishness on my part.

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  7. You have describe beautifully like no other
    words could elaborate more. Every word carved like the music.Every sentence spoke thousand memories of Kroh, I still love to call Kroh.I was stunted and speechless for moment.The end the music brought me back to reality,some how feeling we all connected !...don't stop writing,for sure to return...i am the youngest son of the late the only telecom linesman in Kroh in the 70s my phone number then 290 (yes only three digit) feel free to email me at desacom@msn.com

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  8. going back for raya tmw. and wanted some interesting things to do. thankyou for writing this blog!! my granparents live on jalan nilam

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