|Residential Area, Kuala Pilah|
Kuala Pilah, N.S. : Recollections of childhood days
By Wan Chwee Seng
The early years of my childhood, during the Japanese Occupation, were spent in a small village in Batu Berendam, Melaka. After the war we followed our parents back to Kuala Pilah where father had worked as a clerk in the State Forest Department prior to the Japanese invasion. Most of our childhood years were spent in this small town and it was only after father passed away that we moved back to our hometown in Melaka.
Our house at 246-B, Residential Area, in Kuala Pilah was a typical Government quarters of the colonial era. The white wooden house with russet, tiled roofs stood on concrete stilts.
|The house at 246-B Residential Area in the 1950s|
|The house at 246-B Residential Area in 2010|
It had a spacious air-well which was fenced by high wooden plank walls. Within the enclosure stood a detached kitchen and a storeroom. At one corner of the air-well stood a detached, concrete toilet with the bucket system. The house overlooked a playing field and a hard beaten dirt track ran along one side of the house. The playing field, the space under the house, the side lane and the air-well were the playgrounds of our youth.
|The playing field in front of the house in 2010|
In those days life was simple and carefree. Without television and computer to entertain us, we spent most of our playing time outdoor, We had the run of the whole neighbourhood and our parents were not worried about us being kidnapped. During the weekends, our games would often begin in the morning and end when the light finally failed.
We did not have expensive toys or sophisticated sports equipment.
We made our own tops, kites, toy guns, as well as other toys and sports equipment from materials which were readily available in and around the house. Our first hockey sticks were crafted from branches and our hockey balls were used tennis balls.
Toys and games we used to play
|Exchange cigarette packs|
|Game of kaunda kaundi|
|Bamboo toy guns|
I remember, during the kites season, the evening sky over the playing field would be adorned with kites of various shapes and colours as the men vied with each other to display their creativity and kite flying skill.
|An evening sky adorned with kites|
At dusk, the air would be filled with the squabbling cries of birds as they seek a roosting place among the thick foliage of the stately tembusu trees or on the electric lines.
|Birds roosting on electric lines|
In the gloom of the gathering darkness we would sometimes catch sight of a lone, murky figure with a long bamboo pole slung across a shoulder making his way across the field. The familiar springy steps and the pungent aroma that rose and wafted towards us, told us it was 'wak' the itinerant Javanese satay vendor.
|An itinerant satay seller|
On other nights our nostrils would tingle with the fragrance of fried sar hor fun and we knew father was bringing home our favourite supper. Wrapped in areca palm frond ( upeh ) the sar hor fun had a distinctive aroma and delectable flavour which have not been duplicated to this day.
|Food wrapped in 'upeh'|
As we sat on the flight of steps and watched dusk melt into night, the front lawn would suddenly be punctuated by the flickering lights of fireflies. Caught and bottled, we watched their golden glow until it grew dimmer and then the fireflies were released into the cool night air.
|Fireflies caught and bottled|
When the night was fine we would sit on the verandah with our homemade toys and enjoy the cool night breeze that blew from the open field. Father would sit on a low rattan chair at his customary place next to the main door while he read the morning papers and the many magazines: Life, Times, Radio Weekly etc which were neatly stack next to his chair. Occasionally, he would pause from his reading to sing and tap to the strains of the oldies that drifted from the Grundig radio.
|Father reading the morning papers|
At the crack of dawn, mother would be in the detached kitchen preparing breakfast for her school-going children. On a wood-burning stove a big aluminium kettle was already hissing to a boil and soon the early morning air would be filled with the sweet aroma of freshly brewed and home-grated coffee.
Above the clink of china and the clank of pots and pans came the chatter and laughter of school children from the side lane of the house. My brother and I would soon join our friends as we followed a hard beaten dirt track that meandered toward Tuanku Muhammad School.
|Tuanku Muhammad School 1946|
|Tuanku Muhammad School 2010|
Meanwhile, my two younger sisters would walk to the nearby Chung Wah Chinese School.
There were hardly any cars on the road and even the adults either walk or cycle to work. Father too cycled to work on his faithful Raleigh bicycle and he was always attired in his neatly pressed and well-starched white shirt and long trousers.
During the weekends, we would sometimes 'borrow' father's Raleigh bicycle for our cycling lessons which were conducted on the front lawn of the few row of houses. As the bicycle's seat was too high for us, we had to find a creative way of managing the bicycle. Often we would fail to brake in time and find ourselves among the bamboo hedge at the end of the lawn which helped to break our advance and cushion our fall.
|Learning to ride a bicycle|
The small town of Kuala Pilah had little to offer in terms of entertainment and so the government officers usually spent most of their free time, playing tennis or billiard, at the Ulu Muar Club.
|The Ulu Muar Club, Kuala Pilah|
Photo credit: Devamany
Occasionally, the local residents would be entertained to a free film show which was screened at the playing field in front of our house.. They were usually feature films about economic development that had taken place after the war and documentary films on the communist insurgency in Malaya.
|Watching documentary films screened by the Malayan Film Unit|
In the early 1950s, the Majestic Theater was constructed to cater for the entertainment needs of the local residents and nearby towns and villages.
|The Majestic Theater in 1950|
Sometimes, the silence of the morning would be broken by the sputtering of an engine and we would rush out of the house to see a low-flying plane skimming the tree tops and dropping anti-communists propaganda leaflets.
|A plane dropping propaganda leaflets|
Of all the fond memories of my childhood days, the memories of our childhood home at the Residential Area, Kuala Pilah are among the most precious.
Photos credit: Some photos are sourced from Google while others are contributions from Mr Peter Yong.
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