THE SOUL OF THE TOWN

by Dunstan

18/4/13

   Some years ago there was a big fire in my hometown. That was the third fire in the last 15 years. Those three fires almost wipe out that tranquil little town by the sea. I visited Mukah last year. Standing the centre of what was left of the old town, I looked around me and realised that eighty percent of the place where I spent such blissful childhood was gone forever. They managed to replace some of the shops, but not all. So, what used to be rows of quaint wooden shophouses was now just one big car park. So, physically Mukah is no longer the same town that I grew up in. It has all gone up in smoke except for the old cinema building and the coffee place by the river.

   Ah, the cinema, it used to the life of town once every few months. It became the focal centre only when a good movie arrived in town. I used the word “arrived” pointedly because the movie arrived in the form stacks of round tin containers from Sibu by boat and lorry.

   In a small place word spread fast, the bus driver made sure of that. Thus, before the poster was up, the whole town and the surrounding villages would be agog with excitement. The young ladies were getting ready to doll themselves up and the young men were laying extra “brylcreem” on their hair.

   Watching movie then was a community event and to the adolescents with raging hormones it was a thrilling time. Of course, it was a rather innocuous thrill. It was a “boys-ogling-at-girls-and-girls-demurely-looking-at-boys” stuff. The fact that the cinema had only one projector was a boon. After every reel the projectionist would have to rewind the film back to its original spool. The lights would be switched on and that gave the people ample time to check on their neighbours. “Main mata” was a prevalent term then.

   Unfortunately, though the building is still standing “the cinema” as I knew it had long gone. The place had been turned into some sort of karaoke lounge. The emergence of video, VCD and now DVD made sure of that. It is like the soul of the building is gone, only the body remains.

   Fortunately, the “soul” of Old Mukah is still alive. It resides in a corner of the town by the river. Here three elements coincide: the river, the fish market and the ‘Kedai Kopi Suab’ (Morning Coffee Shop). The latter has been a meeting place for the true locals of Mukah, the ‘a liko Mukah’ (the people of Mukah) for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid my dad used to take me to this place where we sipped coffee and he chinwagged with his friends. All the time they kept an eye on the river mouth. A buzz would run through the place when the brown sails of the fishing boats appeared on the horizon. Until as late as the early 60s the fishing boats were still wind powered. As soon as the fishing boats berthed the erstwhile patrons of the coffeeshop would descend on them to make their purchase. I don’t think one can fish any fresher than that.

   Now the scene is played out all over again everyday, though with slight variation. Firstly, one does not have to scramble into those boats to make the purchase. A well organized fish market is just by the river. Secondly, the frail sailboats are now replaced by sleek looking crafts driven by powerful outboard engines. In spite of the difference, the ambiance of the place remains the same. This is a unique place, for it is a place where one loses the sense of one’s ethnicity. Here the medium of conversation would move seamlessly from Melanau, to Malay, to Chinese, to English. So if we were to wish for a soul for the town it should be that which is represented by this place.

   Since the first fire the authorities have, in fact, built a spanking new township somewhat inland but to an “a liko” like me that is not Mukah. That new town does not seem to be any different from the hundreds of small towns in Sarawak. It does not have the soul. Call me sentimental, call me romantic but the soul of Mukah is there by the river, at the fish market and in the “Kedai Kopi Suab”.