IN 1995, I started with three houses – mine, my mother’s and my mother-in-law’s. I was a rubber tapper in Kampung Ketam 1 in Kerdau, Temerloh, and the fact that guests from Kuala Lumpur, let alone Tokyo or Mumbai, would one day sit at my table and eat ikan patin with my family was not something I had envisaged.
We did not have a railway line. What we had were communities that chose to open their doors and everything behind those doors to visitors: the batik and silverwork of Kelantan, the crystal crafts and keropok lekor of Terengganu, and ikan patin and rainforest trails of Pahang.
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