Memories of Turtle Land

By Tengku Halimah

In todays mobile world, we often live at great distances from our childhood homes. Even if we still live where we grew up, the location has often changed significantly from the days of our youth. Years later, it can be difficult to find ways to share childhood memories of home with our children and friends.

Author Tengku Halimah wanted to share her memories of growing up in the eastern state of Malaysia, Trengganu, with the younger generation of her family. In Memories of Turtle Land, she reconnects the familys younger generation to a link that could be lost. She reminisces about childhood days spent in Kuala Trengganu with her siblings and the adventures they shared. Despite the strict upbringing of her father, she and her sisters managed to have fun growing up in a family of twelve. Building on information from her mother, Halimah also touches on the family history and the grandeur of the royal families, while not forgetting the ordinary life she had growing up in Trengganu with her siblings.

One of the most important things we can do is to share our memories with a younger generation; it provides them with a sense of a history that they may not otherwise understand. This memoir shares vivid memories, interesting and enlightening to those inside and outside the family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing Singapore
• Release date: Apr 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781482890150

Tengku Halimah

The author is a housewife and lives in Malaysia. This is her second book. She lives with her entrepreneur husband and has one son. She loves travelling and loves writing about places.

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Copyright © 2014 by Tengku Halimah.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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CONTENTS

Glossary

About The Book

Prologue

Werribee and Trengganu

Chapter 1 Looking through the Eyes of Love

My Father, Bah

Mak and Me

A Simple Life

Chapter 2 The House Where I Grew Up

Istana Kecik

Tengku Besar Mahmud and Istana Kecik

Chapter 3 Our Move to Gong Kapas

My Father’s House

Bah’s Values

Mealtime Ordeal

My Mother, Mak

Living with My Siblings

My Younger Siblings

Bah Played Cupid

Chapter 4 Our Pahang Roots

Bah and Mak’s Royal Connections

A Little Bit of History

Our Pahang Roots

Tengku Tengah Zaharah

My Grandfather Ki (Tengku Panglima Perang)

Grandfather Ki and Mangga Tunggal

My Grandmother Wan

Cik Ngah—Tengku Shamsiah

My Aunt, HRH Tengku Ampuan Afzan

Sultan Ahmad Lineage

Chapter 5 The Trengganu Connection

The Trengganu Royal History

HRH Sultan Ismail Nasiruddin

HRH Sultan Mahmud Muftafibillah and HRH Tengku Ampuan Bariah

HRH Sultan Mahmud and Sharifah Nong

(Tengku Besar Trengganu)

HRH Sultan Mizan Zainal Abidin and

Sultanah Nur Zahirah

Sultan Mahmud and My Father, Bah

The Royal Palaces of Trengganu

The Trengganu Heritage—Istana Maziah

HRH Tengku Ampuan Meriam

HRH Tunku Ampuan Besar Negeri Sembilan—

Tuanku Aishah Rohani

The Royal Culture and Traditions

Weddings and Ceremonies

Chapter 6 Nostalgia

The Song ‘The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly on the Plain’

Musim Bah, or Monsoon

Kampong Cina and Mok Mek’s Snackbar

Pak Lah Yunan’s Bookshop

The Sultan Primary School

Picnics at Cendering

Ramadhan—Special Foods Galore

Hari Raya in Trengganu

Makan Angin and Holidays with Bah

Fruit Galore at Kedai Payang (Payang Market)

Chapter 7 Our Familiar Places

Pantai Batu Burok

Main Pantai

Mengadang Akar

Chapter 8 The People We Remember

Getting to Know My Trengganu

Etah—Our Javanese Maid

Mandak—Our Maid

Pak Hamid—A Lifetime Friendship

The Songket King—Ku Weh

The Magic Man—Pak Tahir

The Beetlenut Lady—Tok Jah

The Old Ladies of Trengganu

Strange Coincidences

Our Koran Teacher

Islam and Trengganu

Chapter 9 Our Hometown: Kuala Trengganu

Getting around Trengganu

Understanding the Trengganuians

Chapter 10 Out of Trengganu

The Road to Pekan

Rantau Abang

Chapter 11 Leaving My Hometown

Tunku Kurshiah College

Life in TKC

When Fate Played Cupid—Tuanku Aishah Rohani

Chapter 12 Returning to Trengganu

The Jewels of Trengganu

Pulau Redang

Pulau Perhentian

The New Road to Kuantan

Masjid Putih

Kuala Trengganu Today

Chapter 13 Over the Years

Photo Albums

About The Author

In order to write my book, I depended on my mother for the facts that my siblings and I were not aware of, which I feel will be important to our children and grandchildren when they want to know their roots. I have had many conversations with my mother about the history of our family—something I treasure.

I dedicate this book to my beloved Mak, my husband, and to my son, as well as to my siblings and my friends Maryati and Norizah, who helped me write this book.

GLOSSARY

ABOUT THE BOOK

The story reminisces about my childhood days spent in Kuala Trengganu with my siblings and the adventures I shared with them. Despite the strict upbringing of my father, I and my sisters managed to have our share of fun while growing up in a big family. I also touch on my family history and the grandeur of the royal families while not forgetting the ordinary life that I grew up in Trengganu with my siblings.

I describe each of my siblings and the people who played a part in our family. Of my hometown, I touch on the historical sites which were once famous in Trengganu in my era and my mother’s era. I also write of the interesting experiences I grew up with as a child in a remote town of Kuala Trengganu.

PROLOGUE

For many years I fantasised about writing a book about my childhood and hometown, Kuala Trengganu. I grew up in a big family, and my experiences living in a kampong would be interesting to my son, nieces, nephews, and children of their generation who grew up in the city and never experienced the joy and simplicity of kampong life. What could my son and his peers possibly have missed in this day and age where experiences can be bought, either in the form of virtual reality games or in the form of commercially designed kampong life as a part of ‘landscaped’ resorts? Have they missed anything? Well, they did from my experience. The excitement of cockfighting sessions among the villagers and the children are now extinct hobbies replaced by mobile phones playing angry birds. Twenty years ago when remote control cars became the prized collection of every young boy that even Bah’s driver, Rahim who managed to wrangle a second hand ferrari from my son, used it to drive his chickens into their barn.

My son and his peers never really experienced the exhilarating adrenaline of running wild in the bushes and paya without the presence of someone to oversee them. The feeling of being in the open space, the possibility of snakes or leeches while swimming in the rivers with the kampong children, playing in the rain and not worrying about getting sick, and furthermore getting the genuine warmness and hospitality of kampong people, the people who existed with ‘hand to mouth’—these are some of the special feelings to which I am referring. Neither are they aware of the family ties, especially in my big family!

But again, we are talking about the fifties, a post-World War Two generation. Malaysia went through some hard times after the war. Our family also went through some hard times before my existence, but it is the wonderful times that I remembered very well growing up in Trengganu, and it is the great times growing up in this small state, which is remotely tucked away on the eastern side of Malaysia, that I’d like to share with you.

My son and his peers also did not experience firsthand the ability to speak and understand a dialect that is foreign to people outside Trengganu. To me, this is a simple pleasure because every state in Malaysia has its own dialect. You can tell where a person comes from by his or her spoken dialect. Why don’t we try to understand the Trengganu dialect as if it were French, Russian, or Spanish? It is still known, and we are able to communicate with the rural people of the state.

My hometown now may not be what it used to be, with the new development and expansion, for better or for worse for the Trengganuaians, but it is my belief that its people will not change. Trengganuaians are always easygoing and laid-back because they’re away from the city life, but they are also humble, warm, and sincere people, as you will find after reading my memoirs. Growing up in Trengganu was comparable to how the famous singer Matt Munroe describes it in his song ‘Born Free’. His unique tenor notes echo in my ears as if the wind and the grass of Trengganu sing to me.

Born free, as free as the wind blows,

As free as the grass grows.

Born free to follow your heart.

Werribee and Trengganu

I spent some time in my house at Point Cook, near Werribee, Victoria Australia, and the vast farmland nearby never failed to remind me of growing up years in Trengganu. The sentimental feelings I get from marvelling at the landscapes in Werribee might have originated from the need to be associated with the kampong where I had been born. The cows and the sheep (belonging to Vet Science of Melbourne Uni) grazing on the sides of Snetdes Road in Werribee were what I was used to seeing in my Trengganu in the 1950s. My neighbours reared chicken, so we would see chickens running all over the garden. I remember the excitement with which my brothers watched cockfights at the back of our house. Unfortunately, loud swearing and rude words were part of the deal. This excitement took place near the servants’ quarters and the back kitchen, at the rear end of our house. My parents would be at the front of the house, oblivious to all these happenings because they seldom went to the back of the house or mixed with the neighbours, except on Eid or Hari Raya celebrations.

Whenever I recall the simplicity of kampong life and how free-spirited we were then, I feel sad for the children of the next generation, who were born and brought up in the city and have lost touch with nature. Safe to say, climbing trees, catching pigeons for a meal, and kite flying with the kampong boys were not part of my son’s childhood experiences.

I also recall the swaying bee weeds in summer, with their gentle sound swishing along the road, and the elders softly singing old songs of Trengganu. The heat and humidity in Trengganu might not be equal to Werribee, the outer suburb of Melbourne, but the vibrant yellow colour and the butterfly shape of the bee weeds would often take my eyes back to the old kampong, where I had the best twelve years of my life. As a child, my siblings and I had the freedom of running in the bushes, swimming in the neighbouring pond, and eating endless village delicacies—offered to us for free!

Apart from being spacious, Werribee lies within the coastal area of Victoria. I can see Trengganu’s resemblance to it. The former lies on the western coast of Victoria, and the latter is on the eastern coastal line of Malaysia, but they remind me of one another. My father used to take us to the beach at Cendering in Trengganu on the weekends. Growing up near the sea might explain the love I have to this day for the water and beaches.

Like the days when I was growing up in Trengganu, in recent summers in Werribee one could see farmers work on their agricultural crops with old farmhouses in the background, followed by cows, sheep, and horses grazing in the fields. While in Trengganu, the scenery included paddy fields or rice fields, plus cows and sheep. Although these are not the local scene anymore, the pace of life has not changed much. Once last year, I attended a food fair fundraiser organised by one Werribee local community group, and there was an Australian band performing songs from the sixties. The slow and rural atmosphere of the place reminded me of the fun fairs held by local singers I used to listen to with my sisters in Kuala Trengganu. It was one of the highlights of our years in our sleepy town.

One day while at my house at Werribee in Melbourne, I was sitting in the beautiful rose garden when it began to rain. Ah, the sound of autumn rain pattering on the backyard pavement of the house. Singing old songs of the rains in Trengganu helps me wind down from the busy life in KL. The raindrops are certainly not as humongous as in kampong, and the air is certainly far from the high humidity back home, but they often remind me of the unspoilt life in Trengganu, away from hustle and bustle of city life.

Maryati, a pretty girl from the island of Sulawesi, inspired me to write my memoirs. I had always touched on the similarities between Werribee and Trengganu, and I mentioned how unspoilt my hometown was. I have not been to the archipelago of Indonesia, and she had not been to Malaysia because she had come to Melbourne twenty years prior to study. She graduated from Monash University, where she studied Islamic studies. She had empowered her knowledge further by travelling to Russia, where she studied, and later to South Africa in order to have in-depth knowledge