Salamat datang ke Kampar

We feel that a life-threatening lack of creativity may be required by a developer to throw up a large number of townhouses in a short space of time. Our entire neighbourhood of around 14 streets, imaginatively named one to fourteen, is constructed of similar townhouses with very minor variations. The one relief from the monotony is gained by the occasional house painted a different colour by its owner, or a set of ostentatious chromed gates.

The street-fronts of the townhouses may be unimaginative and repetitious, but the lane where the back of our townhouse faces the back of the next row is a picture of neglect and disinterest. A generous roadway with rare traffic of any sort, it does nothing more than give residents more distance from their rear neighbours than from those on either side. The litter lining all the streets may be the result of the high number of unoccupied houses, but I feel it has more to do with the fact that the majority of residents here are students from the nearby university.

Water buffaloes wander around the nighbourhood, at night venturing onto the roads. The juxtaposition of the modern Tesco supermarket near our home and buffalo droppings on the road is actually a beautiful metaphor for Malaysia 2012, a developing nation right in the midst of a modern revolution, and thriving in it.

The drive to the lab meanders through less populated green areas, and on the drive, the entire range of accommodations can be observed, from large, rendered homes to ramshackle humpies of various scrap materials held together with hope. The majority are modest little homes of high-set timber or low-set rendered block, all but the newest being a little shabby, the sole aim of gardening seeming to be to keep the jungle at a distance.

Even relatively minor roads like this are quite well signposted, and the roads are often painted adequately too. I have found the traffic surprisingly easy to negotiate, though inattention is not advised.

Each day he passes under this disused conveyor, then through the ever-present mud created by the trucks that have replaced the conveyor, bringing materials down the hill to this plant.

The final part of the journey is bouncing along the potted driveway to the plant itself. The strange, jungle-clad mountains close in around you as you delve deeper into the valley.

The centre of Kampar town, or "Old Kampar", dates from the first half of the 20th century. The two-lane main road continues on to major towns in both directions, and used to be the main north-south higway to KL before the nearby modern toll road was built. Now, the information-age traveller can drive to KL in two hours for around 24 Ringgats ($7).

The shabby shop-fronts in the main shopping street of Old Kampar would have once sparkled with the wealth of a thriving tin-mining district, when the many ponds that surround Kampar were tin-mining pits not full of water, fish and ducks, but of industrious miners bringing the riches of the Earth to the surface. The newer areas of town are cleaner and better cared-for, particularly around the south gate of the university, which throngs with students at all hours.

Bicycles and motorbikes remain a popular form of transport in Malaysia, and their riders show their faith in the protection provided them by Allah by flouting every road rule and all common sense. High taxes on imported cars make them a luxury item that cannot be afforded by many, though there are many, many Malaysians that do own cars. At the plant, one or two of the workers arrive in old, battered cars, however the majority park their motorbikes by the front gates. The inventor and myself do not park outside, but enjoy the particular status of the few who have the gates opened for us by a gate-man in a crisp, white uniform shirt, to drive onto the premises.

Most of the Moslem women, while honouring the traditional headdress and keeping all their hair covered, wear some variation of modern clothing. The headwear itself is a fashion item to which entire stalls are devoted, and can be bought in an endless range of colours and patterns. Today is Hari Raya, and the Moslem population have celebrated in style. For once, the men are nearly all dressed in traditional clothing, shimmering in a glorious palate of silk and rayon, fluttering from their motorbikes as they zip from open house to open house. Every here and there, cars are wait in lines, abandoned outside a home whose turn it is to have "open house", while its owners celebrate inside. The cemetery, too, enjoys unprecendented attention, and this morning we watched at immaculate families in traditional dress and hats excitedly piled into mosque. For the second evening in a row, the night sky is silent only between bursts of popping and cracking as small displays of fire crackers light up the sky all over the town. Monday will be a public holiday for this important Moslem celebration, then life will return to relative normality, as once again the Moslem population can eat during daylight. The kettle and coffee cups, the inventor hopes, will return to the lab, and he hopes he can enjoy a lunchtime meal or cup of coffee with the four Islamic lab workers now. Food no longer needs to be politely hidden, and the Malay restaurants will be open for lunch. Work hours will also change, as special considerations to go home and break fast will not be needed, and the canteen at the plant will re-open.

The sign says, "Welcome to Kampar", and you are indeed welcome. It is a friendly town, and our friends and family are always welcome for visits. Salamat datang ke Kampar!