Let's take a little walk down Malaysian history.
*Face plunge onto desk into an instant snore...frantic close of the window browser....mauling pages of books in fury...recurring nightmares of regurgitating sejarah textbooks.*
Don't we all loathe history?
Dull, boring decrepit bits of information haunting and tainting our student lives...especially the crux of it all.....Malaysian History, without which we can lead better, happier student lives.
When we talk about sejarah, we are haunted by the nightmarish memories by the classroom corridor, desperately memorising the dates and places that would determine the next path of our academic lives (but completely irrelevant otherwise), right till the very last second before we were ushered into the exam hall. It was in fact, a whole subject about training our perseverance to regurgitate. Has it increased our knowledge and enhanced our appreciation of history? No. Has it highlighted the significance of history to our present national identity? No. One has to wonder how long this archaic method of teaching will keep up.
Many Malaysians bemoan our lacklustre past compared to the glorious dynasties of China and Europe. Malaysian history may be modest in comparison, but if we throw this aspect out of the window, our past is still relevant to us, and our appreciation of history should not be relative to its grandeur. Our education system is to blame for packaging the subject into dry, detached and exam-oriented topics that erases whatsoever meaning to us, and reduces all due significance to the learner other than scores in the paper slip. What a sin!
History is entwined in us without us realising. It adds more layers beyond the obvious, and with this appreciation, things and places around you then has a meaning. A brick is a brick, but if you understand the story behind the brick, the blood shed and people killed around it, it is no longer the inanimate object. Let's put this in perspective. Would we be reading English if not for the British colonisation? Would our Chinese ancestors be on this soil if not for the pressing need of labour at tin mines in the late 19thcentury? History has transformed into the culture that embed itself in our everyday lives.
That weekend after a long absence of family outing, we decided to seize a long public holiday for a trip up a town that we had always been talking about. The last time father went was more than forty years ago and memories were vague. I once read about the heritage of Taiping's buildings and hotel, and had wanted to see them since.
This trip to Taiping was in a way, a trip down Malaysian history. Many significant events that occurred in the course of independence took place in this now quiet, peaceful and unassuming town. It was here that a squabble between Malay kings opened the first doorway for the British's entry into our administration, shaping their legacy as of today; it was the very first mining town, even before Ipoh, that thrived and opened the Malayan economy to foreigners, subsequently attracting hoardes of Chinese immigrants who were our ancestor fathers; and Maxwell Hill (Bukit Larut) was the first hill station in the country, now superseded by Cameron Highlands, Fraser's Hill and Genting Highlands. Not forgetting to mention the majestic raintrees lined along the famous Taiping Lake Gardens that preceded the one in KL; and the abundance of nature surrounding it.
Firstly, I had to write about this house.
This quiet and sullen house is sunken and downtrodden by the weight of its battered past. And now that bullets no longer shower from the sky, it stands resilient, proud of its survival, silently watching the cars stream by and waits to unravel its story to those who cared to stop by.
This was the house of Ngah Ibrahim, the mayor of Larut. It is here that Maharajalela who killed the first British resident JW Birch were jailed upon trial. Apparently the site of the murder is not far from the house. It was the house of the Ghee Hin clan before it was taken over by the British as an administrative centre and court, then it was the command base for the Japanese during their occupation and a killing site on its vast compounds; survived a plane crash that slashed the roof in half. Then it became a school, a teacher's training college, and presently, a historical complex in its own right.
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| Reflections of the past |
A mock court, classroom and colonial office with dummies are set up to give an impression of the days in the different eras, while artifacts left by the British are on display, including an old mirror that was hung on a wall. As I stood before it, I wonder how many people of the past had their reflections shone before me?
Maxwell Hill, or Bukit Larut. The first hill station in Malaysia. Unlike the more developed and commercialised counterparts in Pahang, the hill remains pretty much how it was back in the colonial era. It is dotted with a few cottages up for rent, a mini-chalet with cafeteria, and a leafy trail that leads to Telekom towers. Visitors to the hill are limited each time as the only vehicles allowed are the Land Rovers run by the government that goes up every hour, through thrilling hair-pin trails. Residents have opposed a proposition to install cable cars for easier access. Good on them!
Visitors will be rewarded with cool refreshing air, an abundance of flora and fauna, and an enchanted walk through the woods.
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| Maxwell Hill |
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| At the bottom of the cafe |
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| A trail through the woods |
Among the other sights and sounds within and around Taiping...
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| The official Taiping Museum. The typical museum that contains sections of natural history, customs and traditions of the people. Was quite impressed with its upkeep. |
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