My Longkang

(Illustration borrowed from http://www.sendai-shi.com/don_hammel/a_peddler.htm)

Ah San remembered walking together with a group of men and women along Jalan Datuk Keramat. He remembered crying, begging, pleading to be released. Many men and women were openly crying and wailing too. It all seemed so hopeless. Many people saw this curious procession as they walked to what is today called Jalan Batu Gantung.

He told me he was once at a friend’s flat at F Block Rifle Range Flats and looked down from the balcony and became choked with emotion. From this , I presume the site is visible from F Block Rifle Range Flats or in its immediate vicinity.

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At The Japanese School

It was lessons the whole morning. The language of instruction was Japanese. The teachers were soldiers or so it seemed to Ah San. I cannot verify the truth. I only have Ah San’s tale. They were good. They enforced discipline. No one dared to steal.

The Japanese expected the boys to live a very regimented life. The Japanese expected the same of themselves. Ah San said the Japanese soldiers were very particular about ‘face’. Each time the students saw them they had to bow or be given a blow or kicked.

He recalled an incident where a soldier who had committed an infraction was asked to kill himself With a sword.

The soldiers were not happy to be in the school as it was a humiliation to be there and not on the battle fields. As time went on, the soldiers started to trust the boys more.

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I first met this old uncle when he was selling second hand books and bric-bracs An interesting enough character. Well dressed in a pressed long sleeved shirt, he did not seem the type to be sitting along the roadside selling nothing.

After watching him for a while, I went over to talk to him. On some days, he sold nothing, he said. At least 70 years old, he still bore glimpses of being a handsome man. He was charming and spoke a smattering of English words, which led me to believe he was an educated man.

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