Ramblings of an old man: (Continuation of) Ramblings on...lineage

     In May 2008, on a paid for Family Day outing to Desaru, we chanced upon a Bugis Museum. The building looked respectable but devoid of cars...even monkeys whom we saw everywhere else were absent. It should have been a foregone conclusion, no human, no food. No food no monkeys. A small simple signboard dangled from the door knob announcing that it was "CLOSED". Nothing else! Not closed for lunch, or closed today or closed for renovation.

     I have not returned to the museum since then, though I have made annual pilgrimages to Desaru for a bit of Rest and Relaxation.

     There is still that nagging feeling though... I knew of one in Klang but did not make any attempts at all to visit. I let slip the notion of visiting the National Museum many a times.

     A year ago, on my bi-yearly trip to Pontian with my parents from JB, I sort of noticed briefly, at a glance, a brown signboard with the words Muzium Bugis just below Muzium Nenas.

     I neither looked for it nor inquired of its existence.

     Pre-determination or destiny? In May of this year, I landed a simple job of attending bi-weekly meetings in Tanjung Bin. On my very first trip, I followed the Muzium Bugis signboard since the JKR signboard behind it indicated the same direction forTanjung Bin

     On every trip to site in Tanjung Bin I would go through the same route - Kampung Seri Buniyan, turn right to Tenngayun then turn left and head all the way to the turnoff to Tanjung Bin after passing Sungai Rambah.

     And every time, I had to give this turn-off to the Museum a miss.

     Not this time though!

     After 4 hours of the usual dreary meeting which results in the same "pointing-finger-at-contractor" problem, I purposely skipped the usual sumptuous paid-by-contractor lunch of (mercury laden) seafood in Tanjung Piai and headed for my destiny

     The modernised timber looking building sits not far from the estuary in a leafy enclave. I cannot recall the vegetation but it felt cool. Probably the breeze from the Straits of Malacca which was just 100 meters away.
A tower of some sort on the left, a canteen in the middle and this building with the faint letterings of Muzium Bugis which is not bold enough to proudly announce itself.

     Only one well maintained Mercedes 280SE but unkempt rear windows with spiderman strung up above what looked like Fuzzy Bear. I parked my 18 year old fit-for-scrap Kancil beside it.

     A pair of maindoors were wide open. No curtain aircond unit, hence no aircond. Dimly lit with no sculptured lightings on walls or exhibits akin to typical museums, I guess. "Please remove your shoes" says a stand alone signboard. With no translation? Weird.

     An elderly gentlemen of late 60s in a worn-out short sleeve was entertaining a couple in late 40s or early fifties dragging along two boisterous boys of no more than 8 and 10. I walked from wall to wall looking for signs of my ancestors. On the first wall was a double storey full timber house somewhat resembling that which my grandfather built in the 50s. Another wall looked interesting; a family tree. Too far to see clearly.

     As I inched closer I noticed all had initials of either YM or YTM and a smattering of DYMM.

     I passed the entourage led by the "animated" elderly gentlemen who managed to utter, in mid-sentence, the normal greeting.

     The curator?

     Tucked under his arm was a manuscript of sort. I paid no attention as they all seemed overly excited. Framed sepia toned photographs adorn most of the walls...Chief Ministers of Johore, Kings of Johore, women and men of significance (to some but not to me), RM1000 bank note, Banana currency, 1 cent Stamps...none were of much interest to me - except perhaps Osman Saat who was someone's home or compound that we frequented every year. I do not remember much but grandad use to address this old lady living in the CMs compound as auntie.

     I gave all the "glass" showcases a miss as these were displaying porcelain ware with blue inscriptions or patterns - presumably dated artifacts since I know next to nothing of antiques.

     Within 5 minutes I was already disheartened and making for the exit which was also the entrance. By then the "elated" family was already at the exit profusely thanking the curator for pieces of paper which was, I supposed, given to them.

     Before I could put on my clinically engineered RM300 shoes (most expensive I have ever had in my life), the assumed curator requested that I signed the visitors book. In capital letters I wrote my name, and the names of my father, grandfather, great grandfather, great great grandfather and great great great grandfather. He swiveled the book around as I finished.

     "You have come to the right place. I have your ancestors with me now" as he hurriedly produced the manuscript clutched now in his athritic fingers (so he claims later)

     The manuscript was photostated from a typed copy, with a yellowing letter sized front page bound unceremoniously with green binding tape

     I flipped page by page. Familiar names but yet unsure. The curator started his probable memorised oration of my last known entry - that of my great great great grandfather upto Daeng Pabitah. Half listening, half concentrating on the manuscript I skipped many pages before I truly discovered familiar names.

     A few pages away were links to unfamiliar names of older generations: Orang Kaya DiRaja Daeng Ahmad @ Waaniuh bin Daeng Abdul Rahman bin Daeng Sitar Pulah bin Daeng Perpatih bin Daeng Wajuk @ Indera Purma bin Raja Champa

     There were footnotes on most pages citing that the documentation was based on oral tradition
My mind raced forward to my next task - checking other sources, looking for other family members...
There were short excerpts on the origins of some the villages like Parit Sakai, Parit Perupok...and the respective pioneers. Even a story on the Railroad in Muar (where have I read that before?)!

     Asked whether I could purchase a copy, he offers profound apologies. I could not make a copy (no photostat machine) either. And a resounding no to take it out. As a last resort, I suggested photograph. He acquiesced.

     I zoomed in on very few pages which is of significance to me. With my trusted blackberry, I started recording my families existence right up to Daeng Pabitah (though I have yet to make the connection).
No, I did not thank him profusely as did the last visitor. I actually stormed out with purposeful intent.

22 Sep 2011, 5am, JB

Sent by Maxis from my BlackBerry® smartphone

PS. there are a few websites on Family Trees on Raja Champa and his descendants. I have yet to start reading up on them like http://www.siapamoyanganda.com/keterangan/wujud_salasilah.html or http://www.geni.com/people/ahmad-bin-daeng-pabita/6000000008781783370

PPS. A debt of gratitude to those before me who preserved the oral traditions.

The Beginning: Orang Kaya DiRaja Daeng Ahmad @ Waaniuh bin Daeng Abdul Rahman bin Daeng Sitar Pulah bin Daeng Perpatih bin Daeng Wajuk @ Indera Purma bin Raja Chempa