Cradled within the bosoms of its hills, Jugra suckles its population with the natural bounty that abounds within it. Tall swaying coconut trees line many parts of its ten foot wide roads; and, at some particular belt, the locals have decided that banana trees would best assume this role instead. Hill slopes are dominated by trees bountiful with fruits: durians, rambutans, oil palm, and even the bitter jering. Men on their 15 year old motorbikes would stop by the roadside to fill their woven baskets with the fruits of their labour. In someone else's orchard, young boys contemplate mischief as they surveyed the trees for fruits that they can run away with.

In this part of Jugra, the natives still reside in quaint wooden houses. They wake up with the crows, feed the fowl, and chase the neighbour's rooster out of their compound. Just like it was decades ago, the ladies would leave the bath area in their *kembans to hang their laundry out in the backyard. Aroma wafting out from the kitchen promises homecooked food that is quadruple as nice from what you will find in the city. This is the life.

In little villages around Malaysia, people are a lot warmer and welcoming. In Jugra, if you lose your way, you are sure to find a helpful and approachable soul to point you in the right direction. In fact, they might just do more than that. Ask one question, and they may reward you with an answer worth tenfold the value of your query. Jugra is located on royal grounds. Once, this was the valley of the kings. Once, this was the land where lay the throne of the Sultan of Selangor, where the Sultan declared important and momentous rulings and proclamations. The people of Jugra have not forgotten this. Sharing a trifle bit of information about Jugra with a wanderer is their way of telling you that they have not forsaken their pride for their heritage and ancestry. So, don't forget to be extra courteous. For you may well be talking to a very important dignitary.

*kemban. a sarong wrapped around the wearer's body leaving the shoulders bare. In the olden days, the only place where women could be seen (and only if you were a peeping tom) attired in this way was by the river, away from the eyes of men, where they washed their clothes and bathed. Once their chores were done, they would cover themselves in modest , acceptable attire and return home. Their chastity remained intact.

Mausoleum of Sultan Abdul Samad

Up, on top of another hill, overlooking a quiet village, drones a hive of activity. Above, on the bows of a tree, there are squirrels performing daredevil acrobatic acts, and capricious Philippine glossy starlings gleefully outdoing one another, flitting about from branch to branch, busily feasting on the bounty that nature offers. Yet, in spite of it all, tranquillity abounds.

This queer eccentric marriage of calmness and nervousness penetrates through the entire compound where lie the final resting berths of the departed monarchs of Selangor, each sharing an eternal space with other members of the family. There they rest in neat rows. Some more privileged than others, where their resting places are exclusively theirs and are respectfully insulated with thick bricks emphasising their superiority.

The late Sultan Abdul Samad enjoys the greatest reverence of all. He lies asleep in a brick house fashioned like a mini mosque, roofed with a golden yellow dome to mark his royalty, granted with a spacious veranda to greet his guests. Death does not discriminate the Sultan from being tended and waited. A caretaker minds his little palace, and occasionally entertains the queries and curiosities of the Sultan's visitors.

It is not difficult to lose yourself here. You can stand under one of the big trees and simply shut your eyes and breathe in the fresh aristocratic air. The canopy will shelter you from the sun and heat. A constant gentle and unimposing breeze will keep you company as you wander on effortlessly in your thoughts.

Yet, for all the peace and quiet, and its all-over inspirational setting, it is in all essence a graveyard on high grounds. So, what better place there is to park yourself under that tree and enjoy a book for a few more hours, before the sun sets on the other side of the hill.

 

The Deer Park

So, you have done the right thing by paying your respects to the dead. It would be a good time to head for the foot of the same hill where you will come to a charming enclosure. This is by no means just an ordinary park. This was a pet project of the late Sultan of Selangor, Sultan Salahuddin.

According to the villagers, the late Sultan used to frequent this park to meet his favourite deer, Awang. So attached was Awang to the Sultan that when the Sultan departed, Awang refused any food or nourishment, which led him to embark on a journey of his own to join his beloved master not long after.

Apart from Awang, numerous deers of various breeds, shades and sizes mingle freely, sharing the same food trough. Here, birds of a feather flock with those of other plumes; swans both black and white, peacocks be it white or colourful, ostriches, egrets and pelicans.

Here is also what seems to be a meeting place of the young people of the kampung. In the evenings, teenagers alight their bicycles and squat down in a single file (with their backs against the road) facing the high fencing of the park. They chat. They exchange gossips. They talk about matters of the heart that only teenagers would understand. It is not the least surprising if they find this to be their happy place. The late Sultan has bestowed upon them something that no other kid can boast of, a deer park within their own little Jugra.

Article written by Hailey Hassan. 10th February 2003

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Accommodation and Holiday Packages to Klang or Kuala Lumpur

It is recommended to take day trips to Jugra from Klang or Kuala Lumpur. Please refer to Klang for more on accommodation closer to Jugra or Kuala Lumpur if you wish to stay in the city.