Ilir or Gi Kualer (Going to Town)

In my last posting, I talked about the Terengganu River around which my life after school revolves. Nowadays, we go to town or in some cases downtown as frequently as we please. It was nto so in the old days!

Kuala Terengganu was 'recognised' as our State Capital but I seldom went there. Money was extremely scarce therefor shopping was unheard off when I was a small boy. However, once in a while or rather in a blue moon, my parents 'offered' us a chance to go to town. And going to town in the old days was by passenger boats; not by buses or taxis. The term used for 'going to town' was 'ilir' (pronounced as 'e-lay') meaning going downstream or "gi kwaler' (meaning going to the river mouth - that's where the State Capital was and is located anyway).

Such an offer of tagging along our parents to town - due to its rarity - creates extra excitement in us. The preparation - mentally - starts the evening before the day of the journey. We usually go to town on Saturdays. I - or we - would take our bath at the community well in the evening before the day of the journey. I would show my best behaviour the whole day lest the punishment for any mischief includes a canceled offer of gi kwaler!

After dinner, Mom would take decently-looking shirts and pantaloon! (Youngsters can guess what this means). Usually there was no choice anyway as I would only have a pair of "new" clothes for this purpose. Mom would iron the clothes, folded them and put them near the centre pillar in our house.

I would go to bed early and most of the time, I would dream about the trip to town. I was not sure if I did grin in my sleep. And yes - your guess is as good as mine - I would wake up very early the next morning. I would take early morning bath at the community well. The extremely cold water from the well was worth the suffering considering the joy of gi kwaler! I would get dressed very fast and my father would comb my hair using the popular hair cream at that time - Brylcreem in plastic packets! Shirt was tucked-in. No shoes but I wear slippers.

At sunrise we walked to the river and waited for the right passenger boat. When the boat was within sight, mom would wave the handkerchief and the boat would came to the pengkalan (base or jetty). We boarded the boat and it moved on picking up other passengers along the way.

The boats use diesel engines similar to the ones used for the steamrollers at that time. They are slow but steady. I enjoyed watching the valve-holders - ladies please ask your friends what are these - moving rhythmically up and down - while the boat moved along the river. I usually fell asleep about half-way to the destination due to the journey's monotony.

The trip to town took about half-a-day. At about noon, we took our trip back home. The same monotony repeats itself. One thing that i wonder at that time was how did the boatman know who disembarks at which pengkalan. The fare for the journey was 20 sen one-way. Children traveling with adults pay no fare.

Once we reach home, usually we savoured the kuehs that were bought in town usually ketupat, badak (almost similar to keria) etc. And the best part of going to town was telling your friends about it in my next outing in the River. Their gaping mouth while listening to my narration of the journey gave me great pleasures. And the next trip to town may not be coming in the enxt six or seven months. And during the monsoon, there was no gi kwaler as no boat would travel in the swollen Terengganu River.

Sungai (the River)

Our kampung is located near the Terengganu River (Sungai Terengganu). Although my family house was not actually on the river bank, the river was part of my growing up life. In my last posting, I described our connection to the grandfather's well which never went dry even during droughts. But that didn't prevent me and my siblings and cousins from enjoying ourselves in the River.

Schools ended at 12.30 pm back then and tuition classes were unheard of at that time. We had to attend quranic classes after school. By 2.30 pm, we were really free to do whatever we please, so to speak. Usually we went looking for nyior muda (young coconuts) or jambu butir banyak (guava) in the belukar (bushes) or padangs (open fields). One of the cousins was a good tree-climber ( I can't climb, you know) and he was duly given the "honour" of plucking the coconuts. Everyone including me can get up the guava trees anyway. After savouring the young coconut flesh or the guavas, we usually proceeded to the River.

We spent usually the whole afternoon in the River. Some played Tarzan, swinging from the tree on the back and got into the water after a few swings. We swam and play to (read: toll with silent l's) a kind of hide-and-seek equivalent. Those who can swim play this. In my case, I usually get pinched or ear-twisting treatment from my mother whenever I got home late in the evening.

Initially I couldn't swim. Neither did my siblings and cousins. We learned swimming by using nyior komeng (fleshless coconuts which float when in the water). We held the to our chest and splashed our legs in the water. If there was no nyior komeng around, we wear our sarong and tied the bottom into knot between our legs. Then we beat the water until the tied sarong became like a ballon around our waists. If we decided to act lazy we just paddled with ur hands and we looked like swans in the lake. Or we could be horizontal - looked like ants - and use our hands to swim. That was how we learned how to swim. After sometime we could do away with the nyior komeng or the sarong. That's when our freedom in the water began!

Life was fun back then. Nowadays I dare not dip into the River for the fear of crocodiles and uneven river bed due to sand-mining. My swims are limited to occasional splash in hotels' kolam renang!

Note: My wife and I can swim but none of our children can!