Slim School Cameron Highlands, Malaya

Slim School

Stat Lux In Monte

"Upon the hill top stands a guiding light"

Hazels account and Photos of the Cameron Highlands Re-Union September 2003

On the morning of Friday 12 September 2003, my friend, Mary, and I waited impatiently for the rental company to deliver our car to the hotel in KL. The delivery time had been arranged for 8.30am, but the driver did not arrive until 9.30am, which was more than a little annoying because we were hoping to make our way out of the city before 9am, when we predicted that the morning rush hour would be in full swing. On arrival, the driver apologised profusely, and succeeded in placating us with the news that the G class car that we had ordered had been upgraded to a Hyundai Trajet people carrier. It was very plush and roomy with good views all around. They would certainly be needed!

We finally set off at about 10am, but we needn't have worried as the traffic was not problematic. Furthermore, we found the Ipoh Road, which would take us to the motorway and then to Tapah, without too much difficulty. Soon we were driving through small towns where the road was lined on both sides with colourful, but slightly run down shops of every kind, bristling with a discordant and diverse array of shop signs and hoardings. Later, we passed by kampongs and padi fields where I was fascinated to discover that water buffalo were still being used as work animals. It was wonderful to drive past the occasional rubber plantation again, and to see the cups hanging on the trunks to catch the latex. I remembered how as very young children we used to search for the light brown, speckled rubber nuts that lay hidden amongst the leaf litter in the nearby plantations. It was great fun at playtime to rub the nuts on the ground so that they became really hot, and then place them on the bare flesh of some unsuspecting classmate. The back of the thighs was a good spot, or the calf! Children can be so cruel in their choice of pranks, and the child in me made a mental note to search for some of those nuts before I returned to England.

We were soon on the motorway, and when we came off at Tapah, Mary and I decided not to stop for refreshments at the rest station, but to drive onwards and upwards. Frankly, I was relieved, because I was impatient to be in the lofty heights of the Cameron Highlands again.It was a well-made road, but one had to be constantly alert for the lorries that hurtled downwards in a never-ending stream. The drivers were inclined to negotiate the bends at speed, and on our side of the road, which was a bit hair raising at times!

We came across makeshift roadside stalls, owned by Orang Asli. Here they sold meagre bunches of long petai beans, bananas, or some brightly coloured fruit that I didn't recognise. We caught glimpses of their familiar bamboo houses clinging perilously to the slopes leading down to the jungle below. I was heartened to read a few months ago that some of them have successfully integrated into mainstream Malay communities, but these people were still existing without the benefits of electricity and were obviously eking out a living in this manner. I was saddened by the fact that they had been forced to surrender their former self-sufficient nomadic way of life, in favour of this means of obtaining money for their needs. The establishment of private plantations, mining concessions, highway and dam projects, housing projects, recreation areas such as golf courses, new townships, and various other forms of 'development' have resulted in the loss of their ancestral lands. Today, they are largely the powerless and displaced victims of progress. Gone were the half-naked bodies that we used to see, and the happy, smiling faces. These Orang Asli were dressed in poor quality western clothes. No one gave us a friendly wave, as they used to do. Teen-aged boys could be seen lounging indolently on rattan beds under banana leafed shelters, with apparently nothing more challenging to do. Their pet mongrel dogs roaming dangerously close to the roadside.

The journey from KL to Tanah Rata took about 4 hours.We could feel the drop in temperature as we climbed and we were glad of it. KL and Singapore had been very hot and steamy. My thoughts inevitably returned to those distant days when we had made that same journey in convoy in those stifling, slow moving 'coffins'. I couldn't have predicted then, that I would return in some style, so many years later, at the wheel of a speedy, luxurious, air-conditioned car.

At last we made our way into the long driveway of the Strawberry Park hotel. The exterior of the hotel looked very impressive. The black, curved, wrought iron balconies outside the rooms were festooned with pink bougainvillaea. They made an attractive contrast with the white walls of the building. The rooms themselves, though comfortable, were obviously past their best. We settled into our room and then heard voices coming from the adjacent balcony. I had a look and told Mary that the couple standing there looked like Slimmers. (Have we been marked for life?) I greeted them, and discovered that they were Robert Lownes and his wife Marilyn. We chatted for a while, then headed for the hotel restaurant and bar. Some instinct prompted me to know that we would find some of our group there! Sure enough, but they were about to supplement their liquid refreshment with some lunch.

It was so nice to see everyone again. Gloria and Tony, Sheila and David, Tony Collins and Pat, Ann Hall and her grand daughter were sitting on one of the restaurant balconies in the sunshine, looking relaxed and happy. Gloria had some wonderful news – not only were we going to be allowed access into the school the following day, but Data Masnah, the Minister for Tourism and Culture in Pahang had invited us all to a gala evening at the school on Saturday evening to celebrate our 'home coming”. It was very touching to know that our Malaysian hosts were so delighted to see us return and wanted to demonstrate this to us in such a generous manner. There would be an international barbecue and buffet, and dances on stage by a troupe from Tourism Malaysia. Arnold and Pauline arrived a little later, and John Cox, who had only heard about the reunion a few days before, and had quickly made arrangements to travel to Malaysia to participate, also joined us later that day.

It was Arnold's birthday, so we had a celebration dinner in the restaurant that evening. The hotel kindly provided a scrumptious birthday cake for Arnold. Pauline had brought some balloons and other decorations for the occasion, so a grand old time was had by all, for the grand old man. Just kidding, Arnold! Wendy and John, Valerie and Ray were in another section of the restaurant, but they hadn't met up with us yet and missed the celebrations. We had been making quite a lot of noise with our excited chattering and laughter, and for some reason, they thought that we were a party of Germans and kept away! Perhaps it was the sight of Arnold repeatedly jumping onto the table, raising his hand in the air, while he smartly clicked his heels together, that gave them that idea? Just kidding, again! We all met, though, the next day.

Breakfast was a bit of a scramble because the restaurant was filled with weekend vacationers. There were children everywhere! Later, Mary and I drove in to Tanah Rata, with the intention of doing the jungle walk to Parit falls. We met Gloria and Tony, Pat and Tony, and Sheila and David on their way down. It was very strange to be walking on a paved walkway between the trees, instead of the old familiar jungle track. After taking some photos on the bridge above the falls, we decided to continue on the walk. Happily, the paved walkway eventually gave way to a jungle track, and minutes later, we had to hang on to overhead branches, and the rotting stumps of fallen trees, in order to hoist ourselves up the steep incline, which was damp and therefore slippery in places. It was quite an exhausting climb in the humidity and heat, but we were spurred on by occasional glimpses, through the vegetation, of the watchtower at the top of the ridge.

An elderly Chinese gentleman, who had been meditating on the bridge, had told us that the view from the tower was breathtaking. It certainly was! I let out a scream of excited pleasure, almost as soon as we began to survey the scene from the viewing platform, because I caught sight of our beloved school a little distance away. For some reason, it came as quite a surprise to me. There was the driveway into the school, the school hall, the offices, some of the nissen huts that used to be classrooms, the dormitories, dining room, car park, and playing field. Apart from the new black and white buildings, which have been erected near the grassy bank, and the fact that the undergrowth below the bank had been cleared away all the way to the playing field below, so that the whole area looked totally manicured, it was all so familiar. I was absolutely thrilled! This was my first sight of the school in 47 years, and what a glorious sight it was to behold! I was totally mesmerised!

Below the school playing fields there was now a village where there had formerly been jungle, and new hotels and houses nestling on the surrounding hills. The inhabitants of the village have attractive houses, with smallholdings and gardens in which they grow vegetables and flowers. It was an idyllic scene.

We started our descent and somehow took a wrong turning, coming out near the padang at Tanah Rata, where we had parked the car, but on a road which runs directly below the school playing field. It was a fortunate mistake, because we were now just a few feet away from the football pitch! The netball court had been converted into a basket ball court – probably a much more suitable alternative for the elite group of fighting commandos, who now occupied our school! Above the playing field we could see, at close quarters, the sentry post, the green roofed school hall again, the nissen huts, and the edge of the grassy bank where we used to sit and chat with our friends. So near and yet so far - but that was to change!

We walked into the village to ask for directions to Tanah Rata, and noticed a shop with fresh coconuts piled up outside. It was extremely hot and we were very thirsty, so we bought two coconuts. The proprietor chopped the tops off with a lethal looking parang, and gave us spoons with which to scrape away the juicy flesh, after we had quenched out thirst with the coconut water. They were delicious!

Tanah Rata was about one kilometre away, and so we set off again in the hot sun. We hadn't gone very far when we saw a car approaching. Fortunately for our weary legs, John was driving, and he had Robert and Marilyn with him. We cheekily hitched a lift, and John kindly drove us back to the padang where we had left the car. That saved us quite a walk in the heat. Thanks, John!

That afternoon, just before 3pm, we all set off for our prearranged visit to Slim. So, it was finally here - the fruition of a long held ambition to return to the school where I had known such happiness and fulfilment! Not one of us could have anticipated, though, the wonderful welcome that we received from the CO, Major Fouzi and his staff! We were greeted with smiling faces, and all the officers warmly shook hands with each of us in turn. I remember standing in the car park a little later, hardly believing that we were really in Slim at last. Major Fouzi very kindly allowed us to explore every part of the school unhindered, and very soon we were all rushing around in pairs, singly, or in groups, excitedly taking photographs, identifying buildings, and exchanging anecdotes from those incredible school days, as the memories came flooding back.

The assembly hall looked just as it did when I was there in '56, except that it looked smaller than I had remembered. The wall bars and stage were still there, but (not surprisingly) gone was the record player that we used at weekends when we played that old, well-used, collection of records. I stood inside remembering school assemblies conducted by Major Benn, the Saturday night films featuring stars like Doris Day, Gary Cooper, and Bud Abbot and Lou Costello, and the dances on Sunday night, when our brave young lads each plucked up the courage to ask a girl for a dance. I noted that the PT shed, adjacent to the hall, which was used in '56 to store the gym equipment and the horsehair gym mats that we used, was no longer there.

The grounds are extremely well cared for, but the gardens now largely contain geranium plants, and not the roses that I so well remember tending in the Fraser house garden. (The aroma of sweet smelling roses or geraniums never fails to transport my thoughts back to Slim, even to this day!) The driveway had been tarmaced, and the large edging stones, lining the driveway, looked resplendent in white paint. Most of the class rooms were still in place, as were the offices, staff room, medical room, dormitories, and common rooms, but they were largely no longer in regular use. In fact, the interior of some of the rooms, including the dormitories, was quite neglected. One simply housed a television and some easy chairs, and was obviously only used for recreational purposes. Sadly, the farm buildings in the little valley to the rear of the school had gone, but they were not put to much use even in my day.

Preparations for the gala evening were obviously already underway. Workmen were erecting a large stage on the flat ground close to the nissen huts, and acoustic engineers were setting up the sound equipment. Our hosts had obviously planned a memorable homecoming for us. I wished so much that all the other people, who had attended, or taught at Slim over the years, could have been there to share our joy and this incredible experience with us. We were all in an exuberant mood, at the end of the visit, and greatly looking forward to the celebrations that were to continue later that night.

Just before 8pm we returned to Kem Slim. The sentries on the gate waved us through with huge smiles of welcome. A large number of marquees had been erected in front of the stage, and to one side of these was a long line of trestle tables covered in white tablecloths. The staff of the Strawberry Park Hotel was standing by, waiting for the signal to lay out the dozens of dishes of food that had been prepared for the banquet that evening. Wonderful aromas emanated from the barbecue. A great many people had gone to immense trouble on our behalf. It was truly humbling.

We took our places at the dining tables. There were numerous dignitaries present, and reporters and photographers from the national press. Gloria opened the speeches. She spoke extremely well, with no hint of nerves. Then Data Masnah, the Minister for Tourism and Culture in Pahang, gave her welcoming speech. We learned with much interest that her father had worked in the storeroom at Slim, and that she herself had worked in the kitchen, when she was a young girl, and had been taught English by one of the teachers. She must have been an able student, because she now held a position that carried immense status and responsibility in the state. I understood a little more clearly then, why she had given so much recognition and support to our school reunion, and displayed such a personal understanding of our happiness at returning. A Tourism Malaysia film then followed Data Masnah's speech. It highlighted the numerous diverse and visually stunning attractions that are to be found in the remarkable state of Pahang.

After that it was time to eat, but where should one start? At the barbecue end of the trestle tables thick slices of roast beef were on offer, sausages, lamb chops, chicken and host of other delicious foods. Move along the tables and one could select from a tantalising array of European, Malaysian, Chinese and Indian dishes. There was an amazing choice of food, and it was utterly delicious! I love seafood, so I made a beeline for the lightly battered Pacific prawns, but just as a starter, of course!

Later, we were treated to a spectacular performance by the Tourism Malaysia dance troupe. It was breathtaking. The dances depicted the very special multi-cultural character of Malaysia, and so the dancers, male and female, donned a series of gorgeously colourful traditional costumes, representing in dance and music, the various races to be found in Malaysia. It was a superb extravaganza from start to finish. I could hardly believe that it was really happening. We had enjoyed some wonderful barbecues at Slim as youngsters, but there had never been an occasion like this before, and I doubt that there ever will be again.

Finally, an MC stood at the mike, and called out the names of the dignitaries who were present, and Data Masnah presented each of them with a gift. Gloria presented our gracious hostess with a gift on our behalf. Then the name of each Slimmer and the name of each accompanying partner or friend were called out in turn, and each one of us received a souvenir gift from Data Masnah. It consisted of a Tourism Malaysia carrier bag containing mementoes of the Cameron Highlands and Pahang. Namely, a colourful Cameron Highlands T shirt, pictorially showing all the attractions that are to be found in the area, and gorgeous samples of the region's flowers, which had been pressed and beautifully displayed in two attractive picture frames. After that group photos with the minister were taken. We know that one of them later appeared in the Sunday edition of the New Straits Times. I passed by Arnold, standing erect, and proudly holding his father's medals against his chest, and the old newspaper clipping reporting the ambush in which his father was killed. Reporters and photographers, eager to record the moment, surrounded him, and the poignancy of the scene brought a lump to my throat.

What an incredible day it had been! It had surpassed all our expectations. I had imagined that we would have been merely tolerated during our visit to Slim, and instead we were literally embraced as very dear and honoured guests. Those of us who were present were truly privileged to be there. Eventually, having voiced our heartfelt thanks to Data Masnah, the dignitaries present, Major Fouzi and his staff, some of the other guests, and the staff of the Strawberry Park hotel, we took our leave of our kind hosts and of Slim. Everyone had done their utmost to make our visit to our old school truly memorable, and we will be eternally grateful to them.

The next day Mary and I had attended the 9am Mass in the Convent in Tanah Rata, and our C of E brethren attended a later service in the All Soul's church just below the school. Afterwards, we all paid a visit to the home of Data Masnah's parents. They live in the village below the school, and were rightly very proud of their home, and the way that they and their neighbours had cleared away the jungle with their bare hands, in order to establish the settlement. They are a wonderfully warm hearted couple, and it was very kind of them to extend the invitation to us. Then, because there was not enough room in the hotel mini bus for everyone to visit Tanglin School, Mary, Pauline, Arnold and I decided that we would organise our own sight seeing trip for the day. We visited a bee farm and then a butterfly farm, where we saw not only a host of beautifully iridescent butterflies like the Rajah Brookes Birdwing, but snakes, stick and leaf insects, scorpions, and huge rhino and stag beetles. A visit to a Boh tea plantation was next on the agenda. We ordered some tea after the tour and some curry puffs. They were so delicious, that Arnold and I ordered a further supply to sustain us on the drive to Penang the following day.

I think that you can predict that most of us met in the bar again that night. It was our final night together. We would be going our separate ways in the morning. Some of us were travelling on to Sydney for another reunion that was being organised by Ishbel. I knew, with Ish at the helm that, too, would be a wonderful experience. However, as this was my first visit to Malaysia in almost 5 decades, I wanted to savour the delights of that magical country for a while longer. We had spent some time in Singapore and in Kuala Lumpur, now for Mary, Arnold, Pauline, and for me, Penang was the next port of call. Then we were scheduled to fly to the picturesque island of Langkawi.

I had waited a long time to return to Singapore and Malaysia, and especially to the wonderful school that will always be so dear to us. I had often wondered what it would be like to take that very special walk down Memory Lane, and now all my imaginings and hopes for this return to Paradise had been totally surpassed.

I would like to thank Gloria for all the time and effort that she gave in order to ensure that the reunion would be a success. Our heartfelt thanks must also go to dear Data Masnah, Major Fouzi and his men, and all those who kindly contributed towards making our long awaited visit to Slim so truly unforgettable. The extremely warm welcome that we received, the freedom to explore Slim without restriction, the splendour of the gala evening, and the supreme generosity and graciousness of our hosts, will remain a treasured memory that we will savour in all the coming years. Terimah kasih! Jumpa lagi! Thank you so very much, we will see you again!
Hazel Parker
5 November, 2003