Rawa: Tragedi Pulau Batu Puteh

by Isa Kamari

Rawa. Nama itu adalah tanah. Nama itu adalah air. Anak jati ini memaut sejarah dan kebudayaan antara Singapura da Seberang Tambak yang menjadi sebahagian daripada Tanah Melayu.

Susur galur keturunannya hidup penuh rukun. Alam itulah sahabat. Firasat pula sandaran pedoman hidup. Tapi hidup tidak selalunya damai. Dendam dan hasad mula menular. Perkahwinan campur dan kedatangan orang luar menggugat bahagia.

Hanya satu jalan untuk merungkainya... diri Rawa.

"Ah! Rawa! Kau ini macam-macamlah! Kau anak jantan. Nekadlah sikit! Ambillah satu anak dara dari mana-mana kampung pun! Asalkan Melayu. Jangan tunggu lama-lama, Rawa. Kempunan nanti."

286 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2009

Reviews

[Whitaker · Rating 2 out of 5]

I got this because I was interested in the Orang Seletar angle, a people I knew nothing about. This contained an interesting kernel of a story: the life story of a man from the Orang Seletar people, who were uprooted from their home and resettled when national lines were drawn across the physical territories of Johor and Singapore island. The descriptions of Rawa's early years living in a boat, as was the culture of the Orang Seletar, was particularly interesting. And the cultural shock of living in modern Singapore when, in old age, he moves in to stay with his daughter also made for interesting reading.

The writing was clunky, however, and the fault of that cannot simply be laid at the feet of the translator. Mr Kamari tells and does not show, often shoehorning awkward exposition dumps into the mouths of his characters in ways that are unsuited to them. Sadly, Mr Kamari also felt the need to overly complicate his tale with an unconvincing melodrama involving Rawa's best friend and Rawa's wife. And, to add insult to injury, tries to work in an undigested (and undigestable) mystical symbolism of an emerald ring, the passing on of cultural heritage and the ownership of Pedra Branca, none of which was sufficiently thought through or worked out enough to give it any heft. If only he had concentrated on Rawa's life and sought to invest it with richer detail and emotion and left it at that. I, for one, would have found it a great deal more satisfying.

[A.K. Kulshreshth · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read the English translation of this work, published by Silverfish and translated by R. Krishnan.

I can imagine that if the author had attended writing workshops in the "English-writing" world, he would have been lectured to "show, not tell" and to follow the three-act structure. I might be wrong, but it seems he didn't attend those workshops, wrote from his heart and went on to win the Cultural Medallion and other awards.

I have heard of dam projects displacing people in the context of large dams in India and China, but I had no clue that the Yishun Dam had a similar effect. There is a lot more that I learned about Singapore's history in this slim but dense work.

It's a dense work because it packs in a lot. It challenges the ridiculous idea that some white men "created" Singapore, with a little help from coolies, carving it out from heathen pirate savage locals (that's not exactly how it has been told, just my way of putting it). It's become more of a mainstream idea that there was a lot going on before Singapore was "founded" in 1818.

The questions it discusses about progress versus happiness, wealth versus happiness, knowledge being power are weaved into an interesting two-track story and a lot of social and political commentary. All this is, arguably, done in a slightly heavy-handed way but that did not make it less interesting to me. I am grateful to this translation for having got the chance to read this work. However, I did feel that the translator could have chosen to diverge from the original style (not from the voice) to improve the readability (by avoiding confusion of tenses, for example).

Most of the issues that the author raises remain relevant today. How does a blue collar worker who has "been made redundant" "upskill" herself to become un-redundant? The book introduced me to things that I hadn't heard of before, which include the (threatened) existence of dugongs. It's fascinating that while many of its details are deeply embedded in Singapore, its subjects are very global.

I'm glad I did a web search for the author and found this.

[Joshua Poh · Rating 4 out of 5]

What do you do when the life you know and love is designated to slowly fade into obscurity?
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Rawa, a fictional (or is it?) account of the Orang Seletar, the original indigenous boat people of Singapore. This one gave me the chills. It’s an account of what a progress-at-all-costs national narrative has cost us in the long run.
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Rawa and his family is caught between two worlds - a connected world where people lived free and simple lives while connected to nature versus the always-on hustle of modern city life.
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Yes, we may have modern conveniences, but are we really happier? Are our souls fulfilled constantly running this rat race?
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Rawa reminisces about his past life, when national borders weren’t important and they could roam the seas. It brings a different understanding to our relationship with space beyond thinking of space as national borders in modern civilisations. I wonder what else one can learn from people who came before us.
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Another theme that crops up is Rawa’s and the Orang Seletar’s close ties to nature. He can name every flora and fauna by name, heed the call of the sea and watch fireflies on a quiet, serene nightfall. Ironic, considering these are experiences that we would pay money to go to on holiday.
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Indigenous people had a deep connection with nature and they respected nature as a companion. Respect nature, and it will provide for you. Unlike now, where nature is commodified to help us grow. To what end though?
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What happened to our relationship with nature? In Singapore unfortunately, we are disconnected from nature; only seeing it through carefully curated floral displays, man-made beaches and electricity-guzzling indoor waterfalls. Animals are not sentient beings, but resources to be used in our constant quest for more.
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Rawa provides a fictional counterpart to the environmental themes set out in my previous discussions with @noreadgretsbookclub and within the @ethosbooks essay collection Eating Chilli Crab. I reflect on inter-generational relationships when looking at Rawa and his grandson.

The constant jumping back and forth in time between chapters can sometimes be jarring, but it’s also a reminder on what we can learn from our older family members. Before you knew your grandparents at their current age and form, they were young like you once. This is something we often forget while growing up.

Perhaps these lessons about nature and community are lessons we can learn from indigenous people, should we care to listen. A powerful, bittersweet read. I’m told Rawa is infinitely more powerful when read in Malay, so definitely pick the original version up if you can.

[Rozy Latip · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rawa adalah orang seletar yang menghabiskan hidupnya di sungai dan hutan. Akibat pembangunan di Singapura menyebabkan Rawa terpaksa berpindah dari sungai Seletar ke Kg Bakar Batu, Johor Bahru. Dia lebih mempercayai firasat hati yang dikemudi oleh alam. Namun begitu kemodenan telah mengajarnya bahawa firasat dan pemikiran rasional blh berjalan seiring menjadikan seorang itu lebih cekal, berdikari di samping dapat menjaga kemaslahatan masyarakat. Apa yang membimbangkan Rawa kemodenan telah membuatkan manusia menjadi lebih mementingkan kebendaan dari hidup penuh dengan ketenangan.

Antara petikan yang menarik:

1. Alam sudah tidak menjadi sebahagian daripada jiwa dan kehidupan. Alam adalah sesuatu yang kini berada di luar jiwa dan kehidupan. Ia diambil dan diperguna demi keperluan dan kadang-kadang berlaku pembaziran.

2. Alam memang berupaya menimbulkan ketenangan dan kegembiraan kepada jiwa yang rela menjadi sebahagian daripadanya

3. Zaman sekarang manusia terperangkap dalam pusaran kehidupan yang menenggelami jiwa mereka dengan kesibukan dan kealpaan dan sentiasa tidak tenang kerana di buru keperluan untuk sentiasa menampung taraf hidup yang lebih selesa. Tiada lagi sesuatu yang betul-betul murni yag timbul daripada jiwa & kembali kepada jiwa.

[Eleanor · Rating 4 out of 5]

A heartfelt read about Rawa, an Orang Seletar (an indigenous nomadic boat people native to Singapore), and the changes his people experienced from the 40s to 90s. Overall it's a story about the Orang Seletar losing their way of life - forced to leave their houseboats to settle on land, then forced to keep up with the demands and ambitions of land living, or be left behind. We see Rawa's memories (through the positive haze of nostalgia) of living a free life on his houseboat, untethered to specific laws or nation, how he falls in love and how he come to terms with the world his grandson is born into. The river he grew up with no longer exists - it is now a reservoir - and he has a lifelong quest that he has never been able to fulfill.

Overall this is a story about change and people being left behind, not just by capitalism but by the changing politics of identity. People being separated or their original identities erased for political convenience, and the unnecessary conflicts that follow.

It's also a story about family and friendships. I still wish I understood more about Ayong (Rawa's best friend from childhood), but I suppose like life, you can't have the answer to everything.

[Diana · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read this for @noreadgretsbookclub session and thankful they spotlighted this fiction about the lives of orang seletar. The protagonist is Rawa, a man who lives on a pau kajang and through the sustenance of nature, especially the waters.

The novel details the everyday life of someone like Rawa, who never has to worry of food and shelter since nature provides abundantly through its fishes and flora and fauna. The anxiety *for more* is also absent, as he takes only what is needed, and experiences bliss through the contentment he derives from being deeply connected with nature on a practically spiritual level.

But this bliss doesn’t stand a chance against the violent and nationalist advancement of capitalist development that enforces hard borders not only on land but also citizenship. Although Rawa is part of a people who have lived off and honoured the sea and land for generations, it is all undone. Belonging is now defined through an “identity card”. Arms of authorities harass them and tell them they are not welcome there.

During the @noreadgretsbookclub session I mentioned how nationalism was a tool of dispossession for indigenous people. What is worse is that in a country like Singapore, after dispossessing and uprooting people from their generational heritage and roots, they want to speak continuously and authoritatively on the question of “belonging” and enforce a specific idea of patriotism.

Not only that, our country’s image of itself is also predicated on demeaning previous ways of life. In Rawa we read of how rich and deep this way of life was even though it has its moments of difficulty. All of this is dismissed as just “third world” and something we advanced from in our national narrative.

I will never forget reading of how islanders (orang pulau) were promised amenities on their island by LKY, but in a few years, their island was gone, and they were all uprooted.

The last page of Rawa encapsulates it. The state bickers and strong arms to define and own land, while indigenous people know land intimately through memory, relationships and culture.

[Xiaoyun · Rating 4 out of 5]

"they lived in boats, moored in the muddy waters in the mangroves. He still remembers the smell of the mud, the sap from the mangrove trees and the red nyireh blossoms. He finds the smells acrid, but invigorating: ennobling."

I enjoyed the anecdotes and descriptions of the life of orang Seletar and orang Kallang. I learnt that the Johor-Singapore Causeway was built from granite sourced locally from ubin and Bukit timah. I read with interest how rawa and his family traversed the waters of "tebrau straits" (i.e. straits of Johor) without inhibitions as it was part of their life.

"We were not tied to any one place like the land people, San. We were nomads. We moved from place to place in Singapore, in Johor, and sometimes even in Indonesia. This entire region was where we lived and played. We owned nothing; rowed it from time to time for temporary usage. We only took what we needed from wherever we stopped to rest, never more."

Most interesting to read about was the connection of modern day places such as Lower Seletar reservoir, Yishun dam and Yishun area with the original "homeland" (or rather waterways) of the orang seletar.

Through Rawa's daughter we learnt about her transition into living on land by her marriage and how she adapted to city living and assimilated into the mainstream Malay society as well.

However, the writing was clunky and draggy in ways that made me read even faster, with the author really "telling" the whole story through long dialogues. Sometimes I was raising eyebrows at the repetitions within a single line. I think it might also a function of the translation, and naturally the way Malay language sounds like (conveying familial affection and intimacy). In any case this was my first Malay novel (translated into English) and I think I might try more of these :)

[Fikri · Rating 2 out of 5]

Possibly the first full-length Malay novel I've read ever, if not at least for the past 15 years or so. Picked it up to tick off "a book that challenges you" for The Moon's 2020 Reading Challenge.

I chose it for the promise of a historical narrative, which the book delivered in droves, albeit often in a contrived way (what, you mean you don't have the dimensions of the Johor-Singapore Causeway memorised for casual conversations with your father and grandfather?). The fictional plot had potential — I really wanted to know more about Ayong?? — but the delivery was lazy: plenty of tell-not-show and too much time trapped in Rawa's head, with both too much exposition and too little actual story development. Also very heavy on moralism and handwringing about the Perils of Modernity — y'know, sometimes the points were good but the navel-gazing could've been cut by half at least. A bit like a combination of a history textbook (if history textbooks actually covered indigenous histories) and secondary school civics and moral education lessons.

[Yong Feng · Rating 3 out of 5]

A story of the Orang Seletar and how modernisation has completely changed their way of life, narrated by the main character Rawa. I enjoyed the passages showing Rawa's intimate knowledge of nature and love of the land, contrasted with his later years living in a HDB flat - questioning what was lost in the rapid process of development that Singapore experienced in the 20th century.

[Ariyani · Rating 5 out of 5]

suka sekali,
jadi ingin ke kampung bakar batu dan ke seletar

[Marissa · Rating 3 out of 5]

Beautiful story. It was interesting to read about the lives of the Orang Seletar and the relationship between Rawa and Temah though I felt that the story was weighed down by clunky/lecturey dialog

[Joseph Solitare · Rating 3 out of 5]

The rushed ending dropped it from a 4 to a 3. An otherwise amazing portrait of history.

[Sanne · Rating 1 out of 5]

I started reading this, because the cover promised a story about the orang seletar, an ethnic group living as sea nomads in the straits of what is now Singapore. That sounded like a wonderful and unusual subject. While the story of Rawa, the main character, isn't written in the most literary prose, the story was interesting enough to keep me going until half-way in the book. At that point, the author starts with some political exposé literally out of nowhere. That was so off-putting, I put the book down. I don't read fiction to get to an opinion piece about politics.

[mm · Rating 2 out of 5]

I feel as if I need to read this in Malay with a dictionary in hand as the translation is just atrocious. It made reading it quite difficult.
I haven't read this Malay Singaporean author before and I am not sure if he intends to be an apologist for the government, justifying the better lives of Singaporean Malays today.

[Masrina · Rating 3 out of 5]

Felt like I needed to rush through the book because I could not stand the political links that author made in the middle of the story and eventually carried out through the ending.
If there is one good thing about the book, I must say that he made me interested in the lives of orang laut and their existence in Singapore back then.

[Mardhiah · Rating 4 out of 5]

seronak dapat tahu tentang orang seletar dan pau kajang. Kisah sejarah diceritakan dalam suasana harmoni. Keluarga bahagia tauladan ibu bapa.

[Riesna Zasly · Rating 4 out of 5]

perjalanan karya yang dihalusi dengan butiran persekitaran yang rinci mengikut tingkat zaman, amat mengagumkan.. watak dijiwai dengan hidup sekali

[Nurhafizah Azimat · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is good!!

[Ciung Winara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Good to read