Budding up at Brickfields

You can recognise a well settled place when you walk through one.    The vibes cascade in to your heart and gut feel.   It is not just the multitude of colours, noise and people.  It is as if you have to instinctively acknowledge the layer upon layer of culture, religion, happening and interaction.   You are not a trained archaeologist, but you readily know there is  trail of the preceding before the present.     One such place is an inner city suburb in the Klang Valley in Peninsular Malaysia - Brickfields.


Even the English name belies that not all is what it seems to be.   The colonial British named the suburb, but today they are no longer here or in  charge.   What strikes a first time visitor is the diversity of the main strip - Tun Sambanthan Road.     The thoroughfare is named  after an independence fighter for Malaya in the middle of the 20th century   -  TS came from an immigrant south Indian background.    


The Golden Cheronese, or what the Peninsular was referred to at the height of the Greek golden age, was already playing out its strategic and inevitable role of being at the juncture of trade routes, adventurer conquerers and migrating peoples.   In the context of the long history of mankind, South-east Asia was clearly more under the influence of significant Indian political, religious and cultural emphasis, until the advent of harnessing of the monsoon winds that propelled sailing ships from the Middle East and Europe.   Hindu kingdoms with names like Sri Vijaya exerted power and homage upon the ordinary masses and remnants of the Indian sub-continental influence can be seen in Angkor Wat and Borobudur.   


With this historical perspective, labour was recruited under the auspices of the British East India Company and then the British Empire (that never saw the sun set), to work on the then profitable rubber plantations scattered across the west coast of the Peninsular.   The political stability, strong standards of governance and reliable economic structure proffered by the colonial Brits also attracted migrants from around Asia.    These colonials loved to divide and rule, perhaps starting with their experience in Ireland, then spreading to Africa, India and the so called Far East.    The need for a firm bureaucracy and political system to lord over the ethnics across the world required a mindset of effective business management and rule.    A  trend developed to develop geographical sectors according to racial background, for the colonials did observe the varying attitudes and behavioural characteristics of each ethnic group.


In Malaya, the hype was about the working attitude of the three main races in the 18th to 20th centuries.    The Malays were seen fit to be administrators, the Chinese as profitable business people and the Indians as workers.   I wonder why the British did not consider the Indigenous people of Malaya within this plan.


So the segmentation began, resulting in the layout of cities, rural areas and estates echoing this rather interesting mindset.   Brickfields began to be a strong Indian community hub.   Today it is promoted as the Little India of Kuala Lumpur ( "Muddy Confluence"), as tourism soared with the advent of greater mobility, air travel and rising incomes.   Sited on the western side of the city centre, Brickfields has had vibrancy further enhanced with the contemporary development of adjoining Sentral, with its train platform convenience, shopping facilities, accommodation hub and airport access.  This has a historical basis, for Brickfields long ago was the main depot built for the transportation network known as the Malayan Railway in the colonial period.


Against this background, I had a recent opportunity to check out this inner city delight buzzing with various aspects of Indian heritage, foodie offerings and traffic buzz.   More often than not, I would stay in the suburbs outside the city centre when in the Klang Valley, especially with the network of shopping centres, coffee shops and friends.   This time around, in five minutes, I could go for walks along TS Road, soak in with the flowered garlands and pancake rotis for breakfast.   I enjoyed coming across individuals with a painted dot on their foreheads.


The senses experienced from my childhood, even if I did not grow up in Brickfields, came rushing back, for I had lovely and caring Indian neighbours when growing up in Penang - such is the hidden benefit of living in a harmonious multi-cultural society, when people still exchanged home cooked dishes, children were colour blind and there was more emphasis on sharing commonalities than bringing out differences.   The cultural familiarity put me in a safe and comfy place in my heart, enhanced by the cooking aromas, the colours of clothes, the tilt and accent of languages spoken and the appetising lure of niche food.   All at once, the layers were peeled from under Australian norms to reach back to feel another world which had been forgotten and buried in time.


So despite the advent of "divide and rule", the colonials under rated the power of the human instinct to enquire, interact and socialise.    It all starts with simply food, that first item across the fence that builds up friendships.   I was back to freshly made rotis with simple curry gravy, the quintessential breakfast amongst working colleagues in this country as well.   I was so glad my Aussie mate was partaking this kind of food with me on this visit.   The Tamil music, the scent of sandalwood joss sticks and the dazzling but still natural colour of blooms on garlands  -  TS Road revealed all these.  The perfumery can be too strong on some passer-bys.  The traffic can build up to a buzz.   The script on sign boards contrasted with the Roman alphabet.  No matter how the level of activity in Brickfields was carefree and random, it was at the same time purposeful.  


One lazy afternoon on this recent visit, I had the opportunity of trying the lunch of long ago in my mind - getting steamed rice or Briyani, and then going round the table to pick your own servings of the various dishes that catch the attention of your eye and palate.    Call it Nasi Kandar, name it Chap Fun or whatever.    The selections are all cooked that morning by Big Mama, usually a petite lady with heaps of experience in southern Indian cuisine, surrounded by her sons.   Every dish is a labour of love and passion that she puts in.  The quality of curry gravy is often above average.   So I could sample this and that, with memories of the aromas that drifted to my nostrils on walking back from school.  I do not recall the humidity nor the bright sunlight.  I only remember the spices, the appetising experience and those unassuming afternoons.


People I knew then were not laden with much money and yet the level of happiness was so much better than I see in so called rich suburbs around the world.  Individuals and families did their best to rise above challenges.   The country was relatively young, promising and with positive possibilities.   So I watched with interest this current younger generation, walking along the road, with their own kind of hope in their eyes.


One evening, the nearby Maha ViharaTemple held their biggest event of the year - the street parade with various floats sponsored by different parties to mark Vesak Day, an occasion to remember the birth, Enlightenment and passing of the Buddha.    This is Little India, but it is not just Hindu, for in a multi-cultural place like Malaysia, there is still the embracing of diversity like I recall from my childhood.   Brickfields reminds me that it is still all there in the 21st century, even if some quarters have chipped away the extent of such racial tolerance.   You can also get Halal food, not far from a single Chinese restaurant - and Western backpackers can still roam the streets with relative impunity.  


Brickfields boasts of more than garment shops and ethnic cafes.    There is the Temple of Fine Arts.   The Sri Lankan community also congregate at the Sri Kandaswamy Temple at Scotts Road.   The Malaysian Association of the Blind, the YMCA and the Global Indian International School have sizeable operations here.   Churches include Our Lady of Fatima, the Zion Lutheran Church, the Holy Rosary Church and the Indian Orthodox Church.  The Three Teachings Chinese Temple and a Surau complete the multi-cultural profile of Brickfields.


Societies which are open to the world, absorb the best from foreign influences and share inner core values will still do well in the future.     History has demonstrated this observation, from the rise of trading city states to the cosmopolitan nature of capitals of great empires.   At times there may be discouragement and setback, but the wisdom and leadership of key individuals do significantly count in the progress of mankind in this respect.


So what is the foreseeable future for the Indian community in the current Federation of Malaysia?   Their compatriots from the Mother Country have been making huge strides in other nations  - think of the Silicon Valley in California, the contributions of Indians in the United Kingdom and their long economic presence in South Africa.   Indian families have seen their members transported to various corners of the globe like the Chinese - and whether they are in Canada, the Caribbean, Dubai, Thailand, Hong Kong or Australia, the journey and story of their Diaspora continues.


And I asked why the whole place is called Brickfields.   Kuala Lumpur was a village built by the various racial groups, including the Kapitan Cinas of old.    Kapitan Yap Ah Loy reserved land for the setting up of a brick making industry here after the British Resident of the State of Selangor - Sir Frank Sweetenham - ordered for buildings to be built of brick.    Kapitan Yap Kwan Seng established the kilns.    This is one glorious example of why historical names of places should not be forgotten, abandoned or changed - I am glad that this has not happened to Brickfields.

Meeting at Meekatharra

Our fellow diners - two well worn fellas, having simple meals - were perhaps at the same time surprised, delighted and wary - when the four of us, three women and a guy - asked if we could share the worn out wooden table to sit with under the early night sky.    We had left over canned tuna, instant noodle soup and ten days of being on the road when we got social with two prior strangers as if we were at a pub.   Two individuals who taught me a lot in under an hour of conversation.


So how did we landed up here that evening?   We had driven out of Karijini, out of the southern Pilbara region which is better known for its mining, road trains, dirty red sand dusted trucks, occasional camper vans - and headed to Perth, in a more benign and lush corner of south-western Australia.   I had been advised by the owner of Miss Nuggets, a fiesty small sized doggie with not much fur, to be more mindful of our belongings in this hub of Meekatharra, which has a population of not more than 950 permanent residents.  We had booked this caravan park from the internet, not knowing enough that there are other accommodation options in Cue, another place a hundred kilometres south.    Meekatharra, which in Indigenous Australian, just means a place with little water, had,  on us arriving, a small Chinese eating place, a rather silent main street and a pub in an old heritage building from Victorian English days.   I had looked for a wee wee spot there in that pub hotel, on a nippy evening at the start of the cool season, and found the indoor facilities very satisfactory - and clean.


A place with little water - to me, it also lacked progress, as if it had been abandoned.  It was a transient place, a dot on the map along the inland highway mid-west of the state of West Australia,   a settlement on the edge of a vast desert and depending on  the extraction of resources.   We had arrived seemingly furtively under the cover of a clear cloudless night sky  - where are the Indigenous people?   I saw worn out and dirtied mine workers sitting around the pub counter  - and mind you, there were only several people in the rather large indoor space.   Every thing can be relative in impression  - and after being in the unique Woop Woop further north, in another place, our accommodation at Meekatharra seemed heavenly, with attached bath, toilet and small kitchen.   There was even a central facility building with hot food, television and clean eating tables.   Mind you, there was no coverage from Optus, no wi-fi, except if you hang around the central facility and the whole place still dark enough to fully appreciate the stars.


Back to the two rather interesting elderly men at our make shift picnic table.   The two of them must be catching up on a regular basis daily.   There was a bond between them.  I was curious but dared not ask - how did they come to be here?   The more friendly one asked me instead, where have you all been?   Karijini!   He replied, what and where is that? This National Park, which just meant "a hilly place"  is around 700 km north but he had never heard of it.   Polite conversation then led to what do they do there to pass the days.  It turned out to be gold prospecting, but not the kind the movies put into my mind about panning in creeks in Victoria or in California.   Here the elements are as hardy, cruel and dry as the rocks - and we learnt about fossicking.


The cynic in his mate got this other guy to blurt out that gold searchers are very patient or stupid or both.   With his big eyes in a placid look, he was truly convinced of his statement.   The more chatty fella ignored this and came back to show us some small pieces of gold nuggets on his right hand palm.     There, nestled upon a rather worn hand, were hints of gleam under what needed to be brushed and properly cleaned of.   They were smallish, but could possibly fit into ear rings.   As he spoke, the gleam in this fella's eyes increased in the dark evening ambiance.   He took special effort to show these to the women, as if he was behind the counter in some Amsterdam goldsmith shop.   Every one must have a passion - whether it is sport, work, fitness, love or looking for gold.


In the eighties, I am told, when we were wee laddies, there was a gold rush in the region around Meekatharra.    I felt as if in some future scenario, we had landed in some dusty outpost in the Silicon Valley, with tales of the cyberspace rush from where back when.  Now this place looked so forlorn and remote until the mention of its gold mining history.  It is still an important centre for the Australian Flying Doctor Service, which I first got to know from the Tv series Skippy the Bush Kangaroo.   Our motley group of travellers did notice a road sign to Paddy's Flat - and that was where the last serious gold rush occurred nearby, around twenty years ago.    So the dream is still being kept alive.


The rail tracks did play a significant role to keep Meekatharra alive and grow in the past.    So there was a way to transport out all those natural resources from the ground.   Not many visitors take the Central or Great Northern Highway in Western Australia   - maybe only adventurers, mine workers and natives.    There are wild flowers wowing people who come in the correct season, late winter or early spring, but these are mainly from the Perth area.    We had our first significant rainfall south of Meekatharra, during the early afternoon when we were almost close to Perth via New Norcia.     It has been a dry start to the southern Hemisphere winter.    I suspect the area is more affected by the behaviour of the monsoon cycles playing out in the Indian Ocean a thousand kilometres away near to Broome and Exmouth.   Then I realised that this was not even in the dry season, which usually occurs between August and November for Meeka.


The second chap asked for forecast minimum temperatures for the coming week.  Mary, who had wisely invested in a Telstra SIM card, could get the information from her mobile phone.


The next morning, I had a spring in my step waking up, looking forward to the hot bacon and egg roll I knew was sold in the central facility bar.     This was after a week or so of canned tuna sandwiches, I reminded myself.    Oh yes, and there is also the wi-fi   - my social media withdrawal phase was going to be soon over.   This day I was going to cover so much territory, not just going back to Perth city centre, but flying back across the Great Southern Land to the Big Smoke of Sydney, located in a different time zone and five hours by flight away.    The Man withe the Nuggets on hand was already up, perhaps already having his breakfast on the very same table my group and I met him and his buddy last night.    I waved to him and he did likewise.   It was 6 am - the birds were beginning to chirp but the sun was still asleep.

Karijini National Park - Joffre Falls and Gorge

Western Australia

Western Australia!

We slept rough, drove for long hours and mostly had sustenance of canned tuna sandwiches and plain drinking water. We did the stereotyped activities of star gazing, having red dust on our shoes and backs and immersing part of us in clear water streams. 

Yet it opened my eyes to the Australia beyond capital cities, with the sheer influence of the natural elements on such a huge chunk of this continental island. We were fortunate to explore during the dry season. I was taken out of my comfort zone in bush walking on challenging trails, the level of difficulty of category 5 involving good shoe grip, physical dexterity and changing my mindset. 

I loved meandering up the Indian Ocean coast, particularly for its sunsets, unique marine life, dramatic landscapes and sheer isolation. At the same time, I did not get the opportunity to meet as many Indigenous people as I expected.

Perth is such a unique place so far from other parts of the world. It has a quiet lifestyle that still has an economy so dependent on extraction of resources. Yet it may have missed utilising more of its advantage in having a pristine environment and being in the same time zone as several growth areas of the world. 

The trip involved first going from Perth to connect points Geraldton, Kalbarri, Shark Bay, Monkey Mia, Ningaloo Marine Park and Exmouth. Then we turned inland to stay four. nights in the Karijini National Park in the south of the Pilbara. Finally we headed back to Perth through the Central Highway inland through mining country, also dropping by the monastery at New Norcia.

Perth with its lights at night looked like an isolated presence in a universe of surrounding darkness. Most visitors head further south of this city to to the south eastern corner of WA. It has been a privilege to know the fascinating world north and north east of Perth. Yet we missed visiting Broome, Karratha and the region adjoining the Northern Territory. 

We trudged and drove at least over 3000 km. We immersed in the delights of several national parks, most of which were larger than some notable nations. I now value more drinkable water, petrol and access to data and telecommunications coverage. Yet at the same time, there is no measure of the content, reward and thankfulness in the heart being able to savour so many dimensions of Mother Earth - away from the distractions, noise and pollution from contemporary human societies. 

The further you undertake a journey away from the trappings of conventional society, the nearer you bring yourself to what matters and what you have been born for.