Monday, 15 June 2009

• Kuala Pilah is one sleepy, sleepy town.
  Where lembu roam the streets,
  The silver-haired grace storefront alleys.
  Walls are footprint, graffiti, and gum-free,
  And photocopying costs three cents.
  It's small, quiet, and oh-so-uneventful.
  Things move S l o w.
  
  This trip was all about architecture, photography, kopitiam, and of course, friends. I left most of the photography, especially architectural, to Benjamin and his film camera.
  
  The Istana Lama Seri Menanti is plain and simple for a child's fairytale imagination, 'tis really an ideal place for that ubiquitous Malaysian pastime: lepak. The steps to the upper levels were extremely steep, we concluded that the royal family must have had very nimble feet. Speaking of which, I noticed the hopscotch boxes drawn out on the ground outdoors and below, three separate sets for abundant offspring, which really made the palace feel that much more down-to-earth. After exploring the courtier galleries, colonial-style dining room (complete with anti-theft barcode tags on the cutlery and 'fruits'), and royal bedchambers, we parked ourselves on the third level balcony, where it was slightly breezy and timelessly lazy.
  
  
  
  We found leisurely occupation and amusement in observing an on-site wedding photo shoot, speculating whether the couple was genuine, and whether it was the photographers (four of them!) or the models that were in training, if at all. Reminds us of the visit to the paddy museum in Alor Setar, where Shern Ren was more interested in the (real live) water buffalo lazing out front. There, a mini documentary on mastication and repelling of insects was produced.
  
  Back in Kuala Pilah town, the six of us were so obviously out-of-towners. We were stared at everywhere we went. For one, there were hardly any youngsters around our age, as most of them would've probably run off to the cities, studies or otherwise. Our behaviour, body language, and dressing also made a difference. The budget hotel we stayed at was already the most modern looking building around. The shopkeepers, stall owners, and taxi drivers habitually asked where we're from. One uncle enquired, "Why'd you come here?" "(To) visit a small town." He just smiled.
  
  
  Night market.
  
  That night we had [deep] sharing,
  Where are you at?
  Each time it is
  Like a watering hole,
  To release and to replenish.
  
  
  D, B, J, A, Y, & T.
  
  
  
  Timer-ed jump shots are tricky and difficult. We took a total of twenty (20), with varying results. We sure burned off that big brunch we had earlier, and drew many, many amused stares from passers-by, whether on foot, bicycle, car, or lorry.
  
  Going home marked my first time ever taking the KTM Komuter from end to end, that is from Seremban to Rawang (whilst it is still considered the end station), no stops in between.
  
  
  Terima Kasih. Sila Datang Lagi.
  Photo album here.
  
  

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