Kampar

I have often passed through Bidor & Kampar on the way up North and have never stopped over for a visit until I met Ng Wai Leong (WL) in the early ’70.

I met WL when we both attended Klang Gospel Hall church. He hailed out from Kampar and had just started working at Shah Alam. WL lived with his brother, Andrew and sister in law, Karen, in Berkeley Garden, Klang.

I was also living out with some friends in a rented house opposite where he lives. We became good friends such so he invited me to visit his home town, Kampar. I often wondered what Kampar have to offer other than Tin Mines. He said, “Come for a visit and see for yourself”.

One long weekend, I decided to join him. We bike down to Kampar, each on our own motorbike and as we approach Kampar Town, the good Lord decided to give a good wash before we entered the town. Shower of Blessings, I would say. WL home was near the market where there were a lot of houses, wooden houses; kind of remind me of my younger days.

WL mum was concerned that we were wet and made us jump into the shower before we caught a cold. It was a simple wooden house like I envisage – 3 bedrooms, a hall and a kitchen with bare necessities. The air was cleaner and fresher.

Here I met WL younger brother, Wai Peng, and younger sister Wai Onn and adopted sister, whose name I have forgotten.

After the rain, I went for a walk around Kampar before we had dinner. He showed his old school ACS, Kampar Gospel Hall and the market. WL’s father was a pastor in Kampar Gospel Hall Chinese Section. He had passed away a few years ago.

Andrew and Karen were back, too. Karen took us to his uncle’s shop for dinner. In front of the uncle’s shop was an old man selling “Ngah Poa Fun” (Rice cooked in clay pot with Chicken and Chinese sausage garnished with salted fish and ginger. This is the first time I seen such a dish. Klang & KL do not have such dish, then. The old man was Karen’s family friend and he saw my fascination and he invited me over and taught me how to cook this dish. I am glad he did because I cook it now & then over here in Down Under whenever I feel like eating it. Each time I cook the dish I remembered the old kind hearted man. He was ever ready to show me, a stranger, and his trade secret. Guess I must have an honest face. Hahahahahha.

Karen was surprised, too. She told me later the old man had been there for a long time at the uncle shop and his children were not interested in continuing his trade. Guess my curiosity and fascination won him over.

WL took me to the market the next morning for breakfast. We had beef noodle, Chee Cheong Fun, Yong Tow Foo etc. The foods were yummy. The market was crowded with people and makes you wondered how a cowboy town can have so many people. It was an experience I will never forget.

All the time, I passed Kampar Town through Gopeng Road, to think it is only a cowboy town. The treasure was hidden behind the town. Karen took us to visit his cousin on Gopeng Road. He makes Kampar “Kite Chai Peang” (chicken biscuit) and he introduced me to Kampar “Kite Chai Peang”. I always thought Bidor is the only place to have “Kite Chai Peang”. The biscuits in Kampar were different, there were crispy. A first taste I was sold. Yes, I still long for Kampar Chicken Biscuit. “Wink, wink”, Titoki.

One evening we went to church for the Young Person Meeting (YPM) and I met a few young people. One of them I met invited me to his father’s shop after church. He told me I must try Kampar Chap Sweet (Air Champor – shaved iced with red beans, sweet corn, seaweed jelly topped with sweet syrup and carnation milk), and told me it is the best in town. I guess I have to admit it is.

Long time ago, my Ipoh Aunty used to tell me Ipohgirls were renowned for their beauty. I hate to disagree. I think Kampar girls are renowned for their beauty and still is (wink wink, you know who you are). It was at the YPM I met a beautiful girl. Well, that is another story.

Kampar continues to holds fond memories and I will always cherish it in my heart. Thanks for the memories WL.

Ed. Notes:
I wanted to blog on something else until I saw someone ask Titoki if she is from Kampar. Hence this blog.