Several eons ago, I invited Shiren to my humble kampung for the fruits season. Here are the pictures.
Started the kampung excursion by arriving early to experience the unique 'pekan sari', a traditional street market event in town which happens every Sunday. Shiren insisted on being a complete townie by taking pictures of the market place and embarrassing the hell outta me. Also she revolted some local people by looking Malay but speaking English and directing her questions through an interpreter, i.e. me. Switching between languages messed up my authentic Pahang dialect and English grammar. B*tch made me look bad in my own hood, yo.
Appropriately clad for kebun tromping, durian seeking and mangosteen galah-ing activities. The person behing us is my uncle having breakfast al fresco. I don't like him very much but my mom insisted on feeding him. I wish she wont. Ignore him and observe the very stylish rubber wellies we had on. Fetching.
The day's bounty. The best damned durian you can eat. I personally am not a big fan but I have to admit the superiority of these. And you know I am not biased at all.
Shiren and I with my mom and various relatives helping with the coconut husking process which was seriously fun and quite challenging to do. Observe how happy everyone looked in this picture. Yep, we were probably high.
The ancestral seat falling into decay since my grandparents passed away. It used to have a great flower garden and people living in it. Now its just a highlight in our kampung tour under the 'haunted house' title. Last time I went in was to retrieve some extra plates for a kenduri and had a bat tangled in my hair. Scariest moment in my life. We like to think there are really ghosts in the house. Wouldn't that be totally awesome?
View of my family's kampung retreat chalet from the back, near the river bank. We build this house because you couldn't
pay us to stay in the old house. Oh yes, we are all a bunch of wussies and we don't care. The old house is seriously that spooky.
Started the kampung excursion by arriving early to experience the unique 'pekan sari', a traditional street market event in town which happens every Sunday. Shiren insisted on being a complete townie by taking pictures of the market place and embarrassing the hell outta me. Also she revolted some local people by looking Malay but speaking English and directing her questions through an interpreter, i.e. me. Switching between languages messed up my authentic Pahang dialect and English grammar. B*tch made me look bad in my own hood, yo.
Appropriately clad for kebun tromping, durian seeking and mangosteen galah-ing activities. The person behing us is my uncle having breakfast al fresco. I don't like him very much but my mom insisted on feeding him. I wish she wont. Ignore him and observe the very stylish rubber wellies we had on. Fetching.
The day's bounty. The best damned durian you can eat. I personally am not a big fan but I have to admit the superiority of these. And you know I am not biased at all.
Shiren and I with my mom and various relatives helping with the coconut husking process which was seriously fun and quite challenging to do. Observe how happy everyone looked in this picture. Yep, we were probably high.
The ancestral seat falling into decay since my grandparents passed away. It used to have a great flower garden and people living in it. Now its just a highlight in our kampung tour under the 'haunted house' title. Last time I went in was to retrieve some extra plates for a kenduri and had a bat tangled in my hair. Scariest moment in my life. We like to think there are really ghosts in the house. Wouldn't that be totally awesome?
View of my family's kampung retreat chalet from the back, near the river bank. We build this house because you couldn't pay us to stay in the old house. Oh yes, we are all a bunch of wussies and we don't care. The old house is seriously that spooky.