My Johor Journal

                                                                I

I drove to Johor Bahru last week with wife, daughters Aida and Sarah and two granddaughters in tow. We were attending a nephew's wedding.

I've not been driving long-distance for quite a while now. Two reasons for this. One, I tend to get bored, grow older and fall asleep after only 10 km at the wheel. Two, I'd normally get my son to tag along. It's safer for him to drive because he's younger, and free of sugar and urinary  issues. He really can steer and swerve, and swear.

But this time around, he and his hardworking wife could only join me later. Their two girls, Diana and Hanan, were just happy that at last they could follow us without their parents attempting, or pretending to attempt, to pull them away. Children all over the world are notorious for this delicate partiality towards grandparents. Maybe it's part of their defence mechanism or marketing strategy, we'll never know. 

The journey was smooth enough. Not too many Singaporeans racing on the road this time. We reached JB in four hours. I know some people did it under two hours, which I don't quite understand. I mean it's only Johor Bahru, and not Mount Everest or Las Vegas where you've to be there as fast as you can. JB in two hours and JB in four hours, I can't see the difference.

                                                                     II

I've always been impressed with JB. The city looks well-planned, clean and contemporary, with old and new structures coexisting easily. Road network is excellent with sharp flyovers and ramps to cope with the burgeoning traffic. The highway system leading to the city and proximity is world-class, with many exits and interchanges leading to yet more highways that open up to more exits and interchanges, and this repeats until you reach your destination. Now with Waze it's easy to navigate. In the past I always ended up in Geylang. 

My first trip to JB was in 1972 when I was in Form Six. It's the trip of a lifetime, and the whole class were on-board. We hit the road in our school bus, from Ipoh town via the old trunk road, with one-night lay-overs in KL and Seremban. It was a slow but splendid journey with plenty of action and adventure. We sang our school song to beat the heat, and somehow it worked. We reached JB after three days, toasted and drenched in our school uniform. That was the last time I travelled in white shirt, white pants and white shoes. And a badge. And school song, don't forget.

JB at the time was just another sleepy town in Johor. All towns in Johor at that time were sleepy. For history freaks, JB was declared state capital in mid-1800s after another contender, Yong Peng, was disqualified because nobody knew the meaning of Yong Peng. JB's advantage was that it was close to Singapore. In fact Singapore had always been part of Johor before it was donated away in a British-sponsored scam. But that's another story.

I remember my Johor classmates Sheikh Yahya and Ibrahim Mohammad bragging away in class about crossing over to the other side to buy duty-free lychees and singlets, which were very cheap because of the good exchange rate. Now the Singaporeans are crossing over to JB, normally at 230 km/hr, to buy lychees and singlets  because of the good exchange rate. But that's another story.

What struck me at that time was that JB wasn't that much bigger than Kota Bharu, the capital of my home state (you know this). I was in a way deflated and let down by what I saw. I'd expected JB to be much bigger, I mean, the way those Johor guys had touted and sold it. Maybe they were high on spiked lychees and singlets and got things all mixed up.

But today it's as clear as daylight. No contest here. JB is bigger and prettier, hands down. It would've been much, much bigger if you include Singapore (joke, sorry). JB has developed so much and so fast, while KB has been lagging and lapsing. JB is now officially a city. KB is still a town, pretty much the same way that Arau or Dungun is a town. I wonder how our Umno government decides because Alor Setar and Kuala Terengganu are both certified cities although they're no bigger than fish markets. KB fought this little injustice by unilaterally proclaiming itself Islamic City and strictly enforcing female-only queues at all Mydin supermarkets. This stroke of genius had effectively rendered other cities, including JB, unIslamic, non-halal, Mossad agents and all the sinister stuff.  

A day hardly passes now without some juicy bits of news breaking out of JB. And JB folks are not taking this new-found style and stardom sitting down either. They're already rubbing more salt by rebranding themselves as Bangsa Johor (although some of them, like Sheikh Yahya, are Bangsa Arab). This subtle act of grandstanding is necessary to differentiate themselves from the people of non-developed states like Terengganu, non-Sultan states like Melaka, and non-Malaysian states like Bangladesh. Rumour has it that Johor was planning to secede and rename itself Negara JDT FC. This would've gone down in history as the first state or country named after its football team. All this proved to be completely unfounded as JDT is still in the Malaysia Super League, winning all trophies with ten Brazilian players.

The simplest proxy for a city size in Malaysia is the number of flyovers. Don't laugh. The Economist newspaper uses the price of Big Macs to measure fair value of currencies across countries. There are so many flyovers in JB today that I've stopped counting. I'm fully retired, so I've all the time to count flyovers. There are no less than four highways with different names and different tollbooths leading into and out of JB. Let's compare that with KB. KB now has a grand total of one flyover under construction and no highway.

The JB-KB gap is getting wider on daily basis. A high-speed-high-cost-high-fare-unfair train will be built to connect KL with JB. This will make it conceivable for me to wake up in USJ and have my breakfast in JB. As to why I'd want to have breakfast in JB is another story. A China's Chinese company is building a massive Forest City or something offshore, not far from JB. Offshore forest? Typical Chinese ingenuity. This is not another story, because the new city will be populated by 700,000 (or is it 700 million, I can't recall) Chinese coming all the way from, you guess it, China. It's Umno government's way of neutralizing the dap Chinese with more Chinese. So clever.

There's no stopping JB as it is all poised to become another Shenzhen. Apparently one Shenzhen is not enough. At this rate, there's no way KB can ever catch up with JB. Unless Donald Trump finally decides enough is enough and takes the Chinese by the horn and builds a Trumpcity in KB.

                                                                     III

                                                         
Nephew's wedding was an absolute riot with all of us deep in purple. I don't know whether it was Umno government who actually started this, but it's fashionable nowadays for close family members to carry a colour. Our side was purple. I don't know what to make of this, but for the first time I relented and played along in my new purple baju melayu. What a sight it was, a sweeping sea of purple people. A brother-in-law came by and hit me with the old reliable "you looked gorgeous" . I knew him long enough not to get too carried away.

It was a truly joyous occasion. Everyone talked and ate non-stop, all at the same time. And why not, we'd come all the way and pay all the tolls. The venue, a memorial hall in the historical part of the city, was an impeccable choice. It was a Chinese New Year holiday, so I could hear firecrackers outside, which added more clatter and colour to the whole festive atmosphere.

Ah, what a day.

I'm sure Hafiz and Amirah will remember this day and remain faithful and productive husband and wife for ever.

                                                                        IV

While in JB, I decided to look up a close friend and campus gang who was unwell. When I phoned him, he just screamed my name. It was so loud that his wife mistook it for a JDT goal.

In less than five minutes he was right at the door of my homestay at Kampung Melayu. On the way to his house in the same neighbourhood we passed by a warong named "Singgang Mek". He touched my arm and ribbed me "Ok ke kedai tu?"

He'd not lost his sense of humour. Kelantan and anything Kelantanese had been the staple of our jokes since we first met and hit it off way back in 1975 (sexy pic above).

He was so happy to see me and I could feel the warmth and welcome. Visiting friends in these golden years remains high on any retiree's agenda, and I can tell you it's worth every minute. Looking at him, I'd to really contain myself. Physically he was but a brief shadow of what he used to be, sharp, swaggering, athletic and all. The only mitigation was that I myself wasn't exactly a pretty sight. But he remained bullish and upbeat just like he was forty years ago. You've to admire the unmistakable fortitude and forbearance in trying times.

We settled down for a lengthy exchange that he easily dominated, as always. He was highly engaging throughout as we rolled back and forth, from campus days to his time with Johor Corp to football to his ongoing treatment, Umrah trips, back to campus, and finally his hero, Tok Guru Nik Aziz (a Kelantanese, no less), alluding to him in the most glowing terms. Apparently he'd been making regular trips to KB by train just to meet and listen to the late teacher.

After a quick dinner, he drove me back, very slowly, to the homestay. It was only a short distance but long enough for parting jests. He promised to come to KL to see me and others after his full recovery. I reminded him of his "favourite" Kelantanese colourful jelly called "belda". He laughed generously, but quickly added that he could no longer enjoy eating. Everything seemed tasteless. I quickly pounced "Maybe you should try Singgang Mek!" We roared.