THE MEMOIRS OF MUSTAPHA HUSSAIN - Malaysia Today

Anti-Imperialism and Anti-Feudalism 67
Perak Resident, Malay workers were accepted. The British visited the
cool and invigorating Maxwell Hills resort, situated 1,250 metres above
sea level, on horseback or in sedan chairs shouldered by several Indian
labourers. The first paved road to the top was only constructed in 1948.
Now, the Indian sedan carriers have been replaced by a four-wheel drive
Land Rover driven by an Indian working for the District Office.
Once, I decided to cycle all the 65 miles to Penang island with a
friend, Hajar bin Senawi. A meticulously drawn out and detailed plan
spelled out where to begin, which route to take, how fast to cycle, places
to stop at and the amount of food needed. It was as if we were going on
a round-the-world expedition on our bicycles!
Starting at dawn one Saturday, we stopped at two places (Bagan Serai
and Sungai Bakap) for food, before arriving at Province Wellesley, from
where we took a ferry across to the island. I still remember the lovely,
refreshing experience of travelling by ferry, with the cool breeze gently
blowing against our faces and the water so tranquil.
Once on the island, we headed towards Kampung Jawa (Javanese
Village), my friend’s birthplace. At a roundabout, a stern-faced policeman
shouted at us, “Stupid fools!” We had gone around the circle in the
opposite direction. Well, how were we to know? There was no roundabout
in Taiping. We were quite upset, more embarrassed really, with the way
the policeman treated us. Didn’t he know we were boys from an English
school? One wore a boy-scout cap, the other a gurkha cap.
On our second day in Penang, my friend’s brother, Puteh Badri bin
Chek Mat, who later became an active KMM leader in Penang, took us
to the famous Al-Mashoor Arabic School where he taught English. After
an introduction to the Arab principal, we were taken to several classes. I
was given a chance to speak to a Standard V class in the midst of an
English lesson. Choosing the topic ‘Composition Writing’, I happily lectured
away, giving tips on writing, just as I had learned from my teacher
in Taiping. The Principal was so impressed that he invited me to dinner
at his home that night.
Elders who returned from pilgrimage to Mecca had told us that four
Arabs or Turks could consume a whole kibas (a type of sheep found in
Arabia). I had doubted the truth of such claims. That evening, I learnt
otherwise. As we sat on cool, thin quilts on the floor, leaning against
sturdy bolsters in a room without furniture, dish after dish of meat, fish,
vegetables, seafood, fruit and sweet-cakes were brought in. The main
dish was rice cooked in ghee. I had never seen so much food all at one
time in all my life. After the third helping, I was bursting at the seams.
I casually leaned against the nearest bolster, trying to look attentive,
but fell asleep. My friend’s vigorous shaking, with a lot of prodding and