GROWING up in Salak South Garden, a tiny settlement towards the south of Kuala Lumpur, life was much simpler 20 years ago.
Everyone knew each other: Ah, looks like the Lee household welcomed another daughter. The Siews are going for a holiday again, leaving their poor mutt tied to the bare tree. Neighbours from the opposite side of the road are throwing a full moon party to welcome their latest grandson.
It was a lively environment to live in, too. During big celebrations such as Chinese New Year, the entire street crackled to life with the sound of firecrackers being lit from one end of the street to another.
Lion dance troupes trotted from house to house, invited by the sight of the red cloth that was attached to a long pole.
Salak South was a relatively young town compared to the rest of the older towns in the state.
Salak South New Village was established in 1952 when the British administration needed to isolate villagers from the Malayan National Liberation Army during the Malayan Emergency that lasted 12 years from 1948 to 1960.
Among the important settlements in the new village was Jalan Besar, the main street that connects the city to the rest of Salak South. You can still find remnants of the past, like the old signboards that date back to the 1950s, attached to storefronts and medicinal halls that still keep their potent herbs in wooden drawers.
Just across Jalan Besar, beside SJK (C) Tai Thung, is a multi-billion ringgit development of new homes, complete with a full range of facilities such as infinity pools, a gym, playgrounds and a 24-hour CCTV (closed circuit television) security service.
The residents of Salak South still live their days like the past — languid days spent at kopitiam (coffee shop), sipping on strong coffee brewed from pouring hot water into a sock filled with coffee grinds.
Kopitiam was (and still is) the go-to place if you want to hear the latest stories or trade gossip. You still see a group of uncles in their striped pyjama shorts paired with a white singlet, hanging out at the kopitiam or simply killing their time while reading newspapers.
Although I’ve resettled somewhere else, Salak South still holds many powerful memories. It was a place filled with many eateries, printing shops, medicinal halls, hairdressers, fresh provision suppliers with tins of biscuits stacked to the roof, stationery shops, morning market, a shoe factory and more.
I still remember tagging along with my mother to the morning market, a five-minute walk from our home.
Now, we have a hypermarket in nearby Kuchai Lama to supply the daily necessities, but back then, the morning market was our go-to place.
While mother bargained with the vegetable seller, I checked out the comic books at a newspaper stand next to it.
It was here that mother bought me my first translated copy of Sailor Moon, the highly-popular Japanese manga about a schoolgirl named Usagi Tsukino who battled against the dark forces.
After completing our shopping, mother and I would head over to our favourite char kway teow stall beside the meat stalls for a plate of piping hot wok-fried flat noodles with extra cockles.
There were two char kway teow stalls here, actually. The famous one was named Nelson Char Kway Teow while the other, my favourite, was manned by a fat auntie who would put on her apron every time a new order came in.
It was on this same street that I fell down, scraped my knee and still have the scar to show.
It was also here that I learnt how to throw my first punch at the boy who lived further down the road, after he tried to snatch away my doll.
School was perhaps one of the things that I did not enjoy as a kid. But looking back, it was probably one of the best times I ever had growing up. I made lots of friends here, some of whom I still keep in touch with.
All the kids in our family, including my father and his siblings, went to the same school: SRK Salak South, which is now SK Salak South. I still go back to the school every Sunday for my taekwondo training.
Just beside the school is a row of five blocks of low-cost flats that in the early 1990s were a notorious place for people to commit suicide. Every now and then, we would hear stories about people committing suicide by jumping off the highest floor, the twelfth.
Then, supernatural stories would begin to circulate in school, where everyone claimed to have seen the deceased walking in corridors before disappearing into thin air.
The award-winning movie Shuttle Life was shot here, too. Award-winning Taiwanese actress Sylvia Chang’s character stayed in one of the units on
the second block and even sat
on the stairs, where I used to wait for my late grandfather to pick me up after school.
One particularly tragic incident took place around the area. It was Oct 13, 1993, 5.15pm. Two Royal Malaysian Air Force pilots were killed when their Cessna 402 light aircraft crashed and exploded at Salak South New Village, shortly after taking off from the Sungei Besi air base.
Worst, the aircraft crash landed near my uncle’s house.
I remember holding on to my father’s large hands as we stood side by side on the opposite side of my uncle’s house, watching firemen work tirelessly to put out the large fires. The surrounding area was engulfed in thick, black smoke.
Today, as I drop by for a plate of the famous char siew rice at Kedai Kopi Tian Hong, I couldn’t recognise most of the workers, save for a couple of the old-timers, like the brothers who man the stalls.
Stuffed from all the greasy meat and rice, I am contented to just sit here and watch as flocks of swiftlets return and jostle for space to rest on the electric poles above me. There’s surely no place like home.