Sleepyhead In Surrey

When I was just a teenager, when any of my friends or teachers asked me where I live or asked me to write my address I would do so reluctantly. I felt shameful; like an outcast. Why, u ask? Because of where I live. I consider my address a private matter simply because I consider its name indecent. So what is the repulsive name? Bukit Setongkol. Whenever I mention it I’m sure to get the obligatory sneer or two. The bold ones would ask "Eh, setongkol je bukit tu? Bukan dua tongkol?" coupled with an evil and/or sleazy laugh. And I would shudder and make myself nonexistent.

When we first moved here my mak said that Bukit Setongkol used to be all jungles and no civilization. "Tempat jin bertendang ni dulu", she would say (kenapa bertendang? bukan tidur ke dating ke). On the way to our house, there is one plot of land that houses a chinese cemetery. That was the only piece of highland I could see. Memang macam setongkol jer bukit tu. Jirat cina, they call it. I guess that is the culprit that has warranted this place its name. The cemetery has long been the center of a few dozen ghost stories enhancing Bukit Setongkol's bad repute.

Near the cemetery is a small pottery factory churning out plant pots of all shapes and sizes. A few minutes' car ride would take us to a grocery shop that turns into a kueh stall by late afternoon. The shop is connected to an adjoining house, the owner’s obviously. Especially during ramadhan, dozens of cars would stop by and buy the kueh as well as some grocery. Across the shop is a small surau. Every Thursday, a Quran recital class is held for the local womenfolk. My mak has been the guest teacher a few times. Beside the surau is the Tok Penghulu's house, Pak Cik Yem's his name short for Karim. He used to own the Teruntum Bakery in town. Just ahead, there is a stall selling kuih bahulu. The bahulu are cooked at the stall itself and if you’re early you could watch it being cooked and then immediately buy the freshly cooked bahulu. The owner's name is Mak Cik Kiah and every afternoon Mak Cik Kiah's mother would sit in one corner, regaling stories of times passed. I don’t know her name but Mak Cik Kiah said that her mother is partially blind. Yet, she manages to recognize the voices of regular customers. If my mother visits she would yell my mother's name from afar and jovially ask about my grandmother, an old friend of hers.

In the 90's a chain of supermarkets called Tunas Manja was slowly creeping up into every neighborhood, Bukit Setongkol included. Our local Tunas Manja was situated in a row of shop houses next to the Shell petrol station. In the beginning, that was the second shophouses available in Bukit Setongkol, after the one in Cenderawasih. Next to Tunas Manja is a photo processing shop, a cyber café and a clinic. There is also a restaurant aptly named Restoran Nasi Lemak. I’m sure u know its specialty by now. Across from Tunas Manja, a new row of shophouses has been built housing a car tyre servicing shop, a furniture shop, another clinic and a few others which I fail to remember just now. The residence area near Tunas Manja is called Taman LKNP. This is where our old house is and it is now occupied by my soon-to-be-married brother. My abah's best friend, Haji Mat also lives here. He used to be in the army as a cook and now visits us everyday to give us different dishes like soto ayam, lontong, mi kari or mi bandung.

Now, you could call Cenderawasih a small town. It is situated right at the edge of Bukit Setongkol near the border of Indera Mahkota and Tanah Putih. Rows after rows of residences have been built which contributed to the rising number of its population. A large mosque with gold domes and turrets has also been recently built. This is where the local residents usually perform the solat aidilfitri or aiduladha. The field adjacent to the mosque is where you could watch teenage boys spend their evening chasing around a ball. In one of the houses in front of the field, there is a local bridal shop. Abang Mie runs the shop. You could only visit the shop by appointment as all of its staff are usually busy. "Kitorang semua ada operasi hari ni." Abang Mie would say sometimes. By operasi he means out about town making up a particular bride’s face so that she looks immaculate on the day of her wedding. The bridal collection is pretty decent. Plus, you could pic n mix the bridal packages that are offered.

Just at the entrance to Cenderawasih there is a tomyam stall and an ayam golek stall. These stalls operate from late afternoon till midnight. They are rarely empty. Around there somewhere is also the large house of the local businessman. He owns a few logging companies and a few petrol stations. He is married to the sister of the Sultan of Pahang. I had the opportunity to visit the house a few times as his daughter was a good friend of mine. Nadia is now married and working as an Interior Designer in KL.

Now, when I talk to a couple of friends and tell them I live in Bukit Setongkol there is no more jeers or sneers. They seem to be familiar with Bukit Setongkol. One still remembers the yummy roti canai shop (pakai marjerin bukan butter) at the edge of Bukit Setongkol, at the junction of Jalan Haji Joned and Jalan Wong Ah Jang. The other used to organize a student union election here and remembers the government quarters lining the main road. It is not so bad, living here. I don’t get embarrassed anymore. I could live at home without ever going out to the town for about two weeks. Why should I? Everything I need is here. The good company like my friends and family. The local grocery shops that cater to all my needs. The petrol for my car to shuttle between home and Cenderawasih. It’s all good.

Posted in: on February 10, 2005 at at 7:17:00 PM