Bored, I woke myself at 6AM over the weekend, and took unplanned drive to Bidor, Perak. I didn’t know much about the town, other than my recent read about Kampung Baru Coldstream, a former settlement built during the Malayan Emergency. Then, scattered communities were forced to relocate to guarded and patrolled villages to protect them from the insurgence of Communism.
Today, Bidor is a close-knitted community of old men and women on bicycles. On a Saturday morning like this one, the wet market was crowded with patrons looking for their weekly supply of fresh meats and vegetables. Everyone seemed to know each other, evident from their amicable exchanges and gestures, and I stuck out like the tourist that I am, with a camera in my hand, drawing attention as friendly uncles asked me about my whereabouts and what brought me here.
Walking around town took me about an hour past narrow village roads flanked by wooden houses with zinc patches. Patrons murmur at the long stretch of eateries just across the market, and I chose a spot next to an old lady reading the news and ordered myself some yong tau foo and kopi peng.
Bidor, Perak, April 2017.