Nosa's last wedding reception, I hope.

 Sun 26.6.2022

Yesterday was Nosa's youngest daughter's wedding, hopefully her last wedding reception, but you never know. Her late mother was twice married, as she also was. And Jimikoling's marriages number more than one.

I came one day earlier as promised, but came alone and not as promised. Idah wanted to put the final touches to the decor etc. but Ari pulled her to Terengganu Friday for that family's appointment. We split to be fair, but what's fair ?

It was a nice, neat kenduri. The marriage ceremony was almost on time and finished by 11 a.m. There was a pre-luncheon late breakfast of sorts, with lots of food and drinks (including the bus-stand's cendul). Lunch was at 12. So you can imagine how sated I was. I finally picked my rice plate just as the "menyembah" ceremony was started, so I had to leave my filled plate and attended the menyembah, after which I resumed my belated lunch. They didn't touch my nasi, fortunately.

These days weddings are also reunions for me. I'd meet many old relatives and friends  I've not seen for sometime. The memory is still there, but the names sometimes escape me, even if the faces are 90% recognizable. Grey heads and grayer facial hairs and deep wrinkles might take time to overcome, but recognition is regained quickly enough, mostly. Weight and stature changes are often encountered, but the voices seldom change. In fact on Friday Indoya said where's he (me, that is), I hear and recognize that voice - when she heard my voice. Because her eyesight range is probably only a couple of feet now. Conen came with his grey curly locks hanging to his shirt collars, to add to his maintained, equally grey stubble. "Apa ni" his x (Fauziah lah) exclaimed (it wasn't a question). I answered for him, anyway. "Umi suruh". (Umi is his current). Umi didn't come, so my answer was safe. There was Zaha, Jimikoling's cousin, with Lela, Jimikoling's adopted sister. Without introduction I wouldn't have recognized Zaha. Age is etched all over her countenance. I quickly recovered. Fauziah was looking on when I said "Pade used to wait for you to collect your bicycle from under wan's house in Bukit Temensu after school." "Memang" Fauziah said, as if she knew what was transpiring. Zaha said her brother passed away earlier this year. I didn't know, and said nobody told me, including Jimikoling. I knew Zali. Then there was Muhi with his 3rd. or 4th. wife, I've lost count. I used to teach him when I was a temporary teacher, waiting for my HSC, and he was repeating his Form 3 in afternoon school, TMS. He was one of the Hj. Ahmad's Sawah Lebar sporting sons. Now he walks with a cane. Mat Cit (forgetful now), Ombong(with her 3-pronged cane) , Kak Ngah, Aju (all 3 making up the 3 dara of Josseh Kapitan) Mr. Balun, the confirmed bachelor - they were all there, plus Nab Pak Ngah, all the way from JB with her adopted daughter who's getting married in October ("no invitation, no come" I said), with sister Yah and hubby Zainal (they are the most faithful of the Dato' Keramat cousins in these kenduris) from Rawang. Zainal wanted to know if the scam involving Fauziah was true. I said I didn't think so, but she's here, go ask her. I asked her, in fact, in front of Kak Ngah and the others. Fauziah confirmed it. I said I've told people who asked before this that it cannot be true. "She's too intelligent !" Apparently not intelligent enough.

Nosa booked a room for me at Melang Inn 1 month ago, as she did for the groom. I had to squeeze in parking in the single middle slot available when arriving Friday. The security guy was watching as I made several turns of the wheels to park with inches to spare, front and rear. "Handal abang" he complimented me. I was surprised myself to see the car perfectly parked within the white lines. The Friday market in front of the hotel lasted until 11 p.m., so when I came back from Boting at 10, I had to squeeze into the last available slot at the back, in the dark.

The weather held. No rain, and it wasn't too hot, either. There was plenty of parking space in the vacant space the other side of the house compound, but everybody wanted to park close, so the narrow road in front was jammed with cars. I came at 8 am and parked inside the compound. Nosa's renovated house sits in about 2 acres of well manicured land.  The 1-acre lot in front has a new house with additional buildings. The new owners moved in a year ago. The last time I came was pre-Covid 19 and this spot was still vacant. They are school-canteen operators in Seremban. Apparently these people make good money.

I stopped at the Boting mosque undergoing renovations, but it was padlocked. I stopped for my Zohor at the KP mosque instead. The traffic to Seremban was heavy, but I made it before Asr.

Nosa's wedding reception is done. Now for Din Pendek's Batu Kikir kenduri and Nab Pak Ngah's JB one, both in October.  If I get the invitation.

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About new old cars in NS & Johor.

 Sun 12.6.2022

Ari and I both had this new old car experience these last two days. Mine happened here yesterday in Seremban. Ari's happened this morning in Kluang.  This is not reflective of the ages of these cars, rather about something that can always go wrong with things mechanical, but if you're lucky, it happens where it least troubles you. Or maybe the ages of the cars are part of the problem.

I'd spent the whole of Friday in Shah Alam, getting possession of my new old modified Honda Accord 3.0 V6 VTEC. Sam had arranged everything for me in the last 4 days. You know, the documentation and stuff, on top of the inspection and test-drive. "You tell me if everything's ok, Sam. And try and get the lowest price possible." Seemed like a tall order, but I was satisfied in the end that this, my first Japanese car ever, is worth the money, in a replacement for my old MB S280, which Sam also bought for me. Jimikoling, who drove me to Shah Alam, I put to good use to also inspect the car while waiting for the JPJ documents to arrive by the runner. He, too, gave the thumbs-up.

The terrible working-day traffic made me choose the Lekas Highway, hoping for  the normally much lighter traffic there. The traffic was maybe twice heavier than normal, but still lighter than PLUS KL-Seremban. In fact I was able to put top pace on the new car, and was satisfied that I have the speed when needed, just like the S class. Upon reaching home at close to 7, I got Idah to hop in for a short ride around the Ampangan area, and she was impressed, especially as she had earlier joked about this "ger ger ger" of a car I was going to collect from Shah Alam. There were no ger ger gers. Dekna's Carnival blocked the front gate, so I parked outside. Thought I'd drive it in, after returning home from dinner at Man Tomyam.

Everything was A-OK from Shah Alam to Idah's short ride.  It was not OK when I inserted the ignition key into the starter switch. Nothing happened. I phoned Sam. All his instructions didn't work. OK it was 11 pm, and I was tired. I said I'll try again tomorrow morning. So at least I was safe - it happened right at home.

It was the same no-go the next morning. As I had to attend a kenduri at 11, and Ari was fetching me at 2 to go to Segamat and then Kluang,  I called for towing to the S2 workshop, after asking Mahfis to do the needful. On the way to Segamat later I checked the workshop for progress, telling them I want to collect the car on Monday. 

Ari drove Mizi's MB 350 S Class with the other 3 of us, first to Segamat, then to Kluang, straight to Mizi's house (his F.I.L's). The laksa Johor (eaten with the hands), the otak-otak and the delicious durians that Mizi phoned for, plus the almost 5-hour total drive made me tired and sleepy. In fact by the time I was undressing in the hotel room that Mizi had booked, I was feeling dizzy. Idah gave me some minyak cap kapak, and I went to sleep without watching the tv I'd switched on. But in the morning my head was clear.

When Ari tried to start the car parked in front of the hotel that morning, there were the starting noises, but the car won't fire. Mizi came to the rescue and got alternative transportation for us.  Again it was safe. It didn't happen in the dark road somewhere.

We went to the old Kluang railway station for its famous coffee. The train now uses the new lines just 30 meters away. But this old coffee shop is keeping the old place very, very busy. Just as the Batu Pahat Chinese couple said, when asked why they came, "to enjoy the atmosphere". So we all waited for 1 hour before getting to the counter, getting our tables and making our orders, and then spent the next half-an-hour enjoying the hard-earned nasi lemak, roti bun bakar, telor 1/2 masak and of course, the famous Kluang coffee. Worth it? "For the atmosphere - ok lah".

We thought it'd be safer if we took Ari's old Toyota Harrier returning to Seremban. I said I suspect it's the fuel pump. This happened to me before, with my MB S 280. Mizi agreed. He added maybe by September when the current road tax expires he'll replace this MB to another SUV as addition  to the one he's driving now. Well, Mizi may not be an active golf pro anymore, but he sure seems to be making good money with whatever he's doing now. The 2 hotel rooms we stayed last night was paid by him. He even said "go ahead, take it" to Ari, after Ari collected the RM100 deposit returned on checking out.

We made good time in coming back to Seremban. The traffic was ok until we reached Pedas. Then we crawled all the way to the Senawang junction. We made one short stop at Ayer Keroh for lunch, then Ari  sent us home, tired and happy.

The Segamat stop was a rather abbreviated hour only. One, we wanted to reach Mizi's house by 8.30, because they have prepared for us some food, and two, it had started to rain heavily well before Segamat, and Segamat is flood-prone. In 2 stretches at the Paya Besar area of Buluh Kasap, water was already spilling onto the road. We didn't want to be trapped.

Kluang we headed for via the "inside" old Federal road. But "waze" guide Ari put on directed us on the less used "kampong" road. It was already dark on the dark, unlighted road, and there were consequences on the old driver. The road was dark. No petrol stations were seen on our side of the road. The driver needed "to go" but cannot. We didn't stop anywhere for the break right until we reached Mizi's house. Everybody was busy unloading personal bags from the car. Ari rushed into the house, clutching a large white towel he had with him all the time in the driver's seat right from Seremban. He had simply "let go" even as he was driving, wetting his underwear, trousers and the seat cushion. We wouldn't know what happened if Ari himself didn't tell us as well as his "besan".

This was the sort of impromptu travelling Ari and I had done before, but looks like being practiced again. The destination doesn't seem to matter too much. It's enjoying the journey that prompts us. Even as we drove back to Seremban we discussed a Trengganu trip, ostensibly to send Aza & hubby to do their hajj. But it's the drive along the coast, putting up in a hotel, and "shopping" around that appear to  excite us. But we'd have to be careful if it's  in any old cars available. Even if it's a new old car. We don't want to add Trengganu to the list.

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An unnecessarily sad Sunday.

 Sunday 5.6.2022

It started happy, but ended sad. Unnecessarily so.

This last Raya bash this morning at the OPA House, next to the Saujana Golf Resort that once-upon-a-time I was a member of, had been long planned. To make the long plan a reality, the month of Syawal had been stretched to 36 days. Otherwise how could this be the Eid in Syawal ? So it was a happy occassion, indeed. I was happy to be the first to arrive at 10 minutes to 11 a.m. I was happy to see Halim Rock Foundation beaten to 2nd place, to make amends to what he did to us on 26.5.2022 at MINDEF. I was happy that Azat,(I named my first son "Azat") Nawawi, Mat Sham and other familiar faces from the "FMC PD" group quickly filled the alloted tables. I was happy that the boys and girls on duty kept our tables filled up with food and drinks. I was happy that the sudden heavy shower had lightened, and a boy with an umbrella kept me dry as I made a quiet exit without Nawawi's knowledge (he might have prevented it, I'm sure) but after telling Halim - I'd promise to see No.2 Son before 1 this afternoon. It was 12.

Upon reaching his house, after an ominous (the huge traffic jam was later endured on the return journey) long crawl from OPA , a journey that normally wouldn't take more than 15 minutes ( at least at the time I was in PJ, last here 1995), No. 2 Son drove me to Alang Ipin's house not far from Subang Parade. After some searching, we got to no. 12, Jalan 11/1F. No 2 Son got out, and called Alang Ipin out. I saw him looking out from his 2nd floor window of his bedroom. He came down to meet us at his front gate. 

Then the sad part happened.

In the car, as we were coming, I told No.2 Son I've had the urge to pay Alang Ipin a visit for some time. We have not visited each other for decades, although we have met a few times in that period - a very few times. One reason for this "urge" was that Ombong Azi, Alang Ipin's eldest sister, had told me many months ago that he's "unwell". This on top of the fact that when we were in school (the same school) we spent a lot of time together, in school as well as out of school. We visited each other often. I slept over at his house in Kubang Rusa many times.  He was an athlete at MCKK. I tried to be one in FMC. I didn't succeed. S.U.O. Arthur Samuel "advised" the "B" company boys to buy running spikes for athletics, and I did. When they didn't help me, I gave them to Alang Ipin because he said he was active in MCKK.

I had expected a happy reunion. He would welcome the surprise visit. We would recount the lost years in joyous spirit. Everybody would be so happy !

That didn't happen.

The first salvo from him ? You can't simply come without telling me first ! No handshake, no happy smile, not even a "how are you?" 

I tried to ignore the admonition. "Let's go in" I suggested. "No. We talk here" We were just standing behind the 2 cars parked in his small porch.

We carried on the small exchange of trivia with no attempt at being a host whatsoever. on his part. Until No. 2 Son saved the day and suggested we leave as we had some stuff to buy. And we left with no handshake, nothing. No angry words or angry gestures came from any of us. We just left, like the postman, having dropped the mail.

I told No. 2 Son it was good that he was a witness. I told him once Alang Ipin complained (not to me because I was not there) that he visited Ayet, his late younger brother, on a Hari Raya. Ayet was upstairs in the 2-storey house. Until Alang Ipin left at the end of that visit, Ayet never came down. Now he's doing it to us.

We gave him a surprise visit when he was with Petronas, decades ago, in Kertih. We were welcomed then. He went to MCKK, and studied in West Germany. This bad behaviour was unnecessary. Sad.

I'll never visit Alang Ipin again.

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