Jenjarom

Just been back from a trip to Jenjarom with my uncle.
That's 370km away from where I am lying on right now.
Journey time was approx 3.5hrs, with periodic smoking and toilet breaks in between.
A pretty comfortable ride in the Chrysler Grand Voyager with a 3,300 CC Engine (yeah baby) and plenty of leg room and space to store 2 cows, serious.
Achieving speeds of 130, 140, 150, 155km/hr.
Being overtaken by a black Ferrari on the way back, with a Singapore car plate of course.
Losing sight of it after 16 seconds.
It wasn't long before we find ourselves greeted with a warm welcome from the relatives there.
Dinner was at a rstaurant with 3 tables and a kara-ok set.
Claypot Pork, Mixed Veg, Cod Fish, Black Peppered Crab, Buttered Prawns, La-La, Lemon Chicken and Ngoh Hiong.
Struggling to finish my plate as the hosts kept refilling it with dishes from the plates.
Only then did I realised that I had made the wrong decision earlier in choosing my seat.
For every mouthful of food I took in, the others seated around me had a go at their drinks.
I wasn't spared from the drinks, not even with food in my mouth, since I was a guest.
No surprises when we finish a dozen Heineken and a bottle of Hennessy at the end of meal.
The night was still young by then and they had something in their mind.
Enjoy the village's night life they said, as they took us through this dark alley.
We ended up in the room of a building, with a table and chairs in the middle of the room.
To call it a bar, would be too mild a word.
The locals called the place the Geylang of Singapore.
Someway somehow, the room got more and more crowded as the male relatives turned up.
Along with two Cheena Fu Zhou ladies who came in and poured the drinks.
They weren't the only ladies of course, since one guy brought along his wife, (much to the disapponement and displeasure of a few others in the room).
Apparently, being too young wasn't much of an excuse as another lady made her way to the seat next to mine.
I was sober enough to know that her name's Xiao Hui, and 23.
Actually I didn't drink much before that so I shouldn't have said that I was sober, since I was still..wide awake.
Trying to get me to open up to her wasn't easy since I had no idea why I was there in the first place.
As I realised that the others were too busy enjoying themselves talking like they had just booked out, I decided to make her job simpler.
I threw her questions and replied her accordingly as she answered and made small talk.
Knowing that you are bored by now, I shall summarised the rest of the details.
She left for a lengthy toilet break and only returned as we were about to leave.
The bill was taken care of as I caught a glimpse of 10 Carlsberg and another bottle of Hennessy in it.
Saving my uncle from the charge of drink driving, I drove our way back to a relative's house. (Since I was more sober than him, and had a little trouble finding the switch for the head lights.)
And man did I conquered the streets of Jenjarom.
The original idea of kara-ok was banished as they sat in the living room and being talking once again.
Topics that I'm sure many weren't be able to remember the next day.
Except the comparisons in standard between Singapore and Malaysia.
The remains of the liqour was shared amongst everyone as I watched an entire episode of Survivor and saw how Jean Robert got voted out.
I had my shower somewhere in between and returned to see another bottle of red wine being uncorked.
Dispersing bit by bit, the group began to taken their leave as the night wore on.
As my uncle began to fall asleep on the couch, the owner of the house and myself helped him to his bed.
It didn't take long for me to join him in the room.
Before that though, I leant that the owner of the house is actually a badminton player with quite a number of championship medals.

We rose at six the next day, and had a quick breakfast at a coffeeshop.
Half boiled eggs, which tasted fresh. Soft succulent white bread with butter and kaya, along with black aromatic sweet coffe.
A combination that could challenge Killiney's.
Right after that, we made our way to the hills to offer prayers to my Great Grandfather.
Qing Ming Jie. The reason why my uncle had to returned.
For myself, it would be to experience first hand how it is like to visit a grave in the hills in Malaysia.
There was a huge jam at the entrance which was expected.
What I wasn't prepared for was the sight of the event of it.
A lane slightly wider than a queen size bed accommodating two lanes of cars.
Huge families coming together to offer their prayers, young and old.
Kids playing and climbing up and down the tomb, with no scolding from the mouth of the parents, who are busy chatting with their cousins, or siblings.
In fact it is a common thing to see a familiar face since the hill carried the tombs of those who were once from the same village.
Not a moment of silence could be heard as every now and then fire crackers would be ignited and cheers would be heard.
It was a completely different atmosphere from the solemn or spooky creepy feelings that you would associate with a graveyard.
As the sun began to shine its rays and made its presence felt, the crowd started leaving as a silent acknowledgement is passed on that they would be back the next year.
As we made our way back, another round of food was served as they insisted that a trip is never a trip without tasting the Bak Ku Teh from the village.
After the meal, we headed back to the home to bid farewell to the elderly and thank them for their hospitality for the past twenty hours or so, before making our way back south to avoid the jam at the causeway.