More to Ganu than casting for Calamari

My fascination with horses started with the movie Equus – which was how I learnt to use the word equestrian and associated all thing equestrianism with the four-legged beasts. For those of you without any interest in thespian matters, Equus is the 1973 Peter Shaffer play that brings into focus a young man’s complicated relationship with the animal.

The opportunity to ride one came when I spied the existence of the Terengganu Equestrian Club complex in Kuala Ibai, Kuala Terengganu having spent the early part of the day visiting the Sultan Mahmud Hydroelectric Plant in Tasik Kenyir. Being a journalist, one gets the opportunity to visit places not normally open to the general public and this offer to visit the power generation facility was made by Tenaga Nasional Berhad as part of their media engagement efforts.

The dam itself is an impressive sight while the hydroelectricity generation plant is about as unglamorously non-descript a concrete block can be. However, deep within its bowels are four giant turbines that spin through the transfer of potential energy into electricity. There’s more to the story than just dam and transmission cables involved that makes TNB tick before all that electrons get converted to just the right amount of current to power your toaster or TV at home.

However electrifying the attraction the dam was designed to be, I stole away from my host and their planned programme to meet Hamid Ahmad, the man who until five years ago could not tell the back end of a horse from the front end of a Kancil – the mousedeer, not the trusty Perodua.

Now, you will be impressed with him at his ability to talk – horse sense! He’ll suss out instantly your level of equine ignorance especially if you cannot distinguish the differences in the animal’s gait ranging from walking to trotting, or if it is cantering as distinct from galloping.

He’ll also tell you that a horse can size up one’s level of confidence – or timidity, as the case may be; as it will quickly engage the rider in a test of wills to show who’s boss; man or beast!

The horse I was paired off with was a 5 year-old chestnut (the colour of the horses’s coat) mare (that’s a female horse) that was 15 hands (one hand equals around four inches tall; the quaint way the size of horses are measured in the English-speaking world) . Horses, like pet cats and dogs are given names, and the owner of this one called it Sorlano. Just between you and me, it has been stabled at the club and registered under the ownership of a very important VIP in the state.

Since this opportunity was a chance encounter, I was totally ill-equipped, dressed as I was in tee shirt and light sports pants and fake PVC crocs.

I must admire the stable staff for allowing me to proceed with the introductory riding lesson for me despite my singular lack of equine decorum, a special dispensation I think they made for me as perhaps they saw the earnestness of my desire to conquer a new skill.

Just before I climbed up the saddle, I was given a whip to hold in my left hand; to give Sorlano a firm thwack anytime it showed signs of insolence. To make the horse move forward I was told to simply give its sides a firm dig with a backward kick. Pulling the reins to the left or right gives directional control. Easy? Hmm….it does take a bit of getting used to. But once you get the hang of it, before long you get notions far above your station.

Personally, I have video evidence to show you doubting Thomases out there that I actually rode Sorlano. Take away all the elitism and illusions of grandeur, the equine efforts of the club is to be commended. It employs horse-riding as therapy in the rehabilitation process for children with Down Syndrome or Autism. Hamid insists that there have been “miracle cures” – instances where children with physiological imbalances or adult paraplegics who regained their faculties after a few sessions on the saddle.

While I do believe such miracles may have some basis, I will only believe this boast when I see it with my own eyes.

Terengganu of all States has a big horse-riding fraternity – a push that was led by its royal associations. Almost everything “monumental” carries the name Mahmud – after Sultan Mahmud who once ruled the State as Sultan.

There’s a bridge, several mosques, schools, and that Kenyir power plant I visited all named after him. Quite anomalous one might surmise – as it is not too far off from Kelantan in the state-with-the-most-impoverished-people stakes in West Malaysia. Owning, stabling, riding and the general upkeep of even one regal pet costs a bomb, or even two!

But even then, the expense is far cheaper than those charged in posh equine clubs in Kuala Lumpur. It is not unusual therefore to find riding enthusiasts from Kuala Lumpur who come for a whole week to take riding lessons at a quarter the cost they would have to shell out back in the city.

Seafood enthusiasts on the other hand are attracted to come to Terengganu in the months of May to late June – for the candat sotong (squid jigging) season. Jigging refers to the method of catching the celaphods – referred to as calamari in French restaurant menus - using a multi-barbed circular hook at the end of a colourful plastic lure. Most times, you throw a nylone line overboard and wait, and wait, and wait. Should a school of squids swim past, it is guaranteed that some unfortunate member of the troop will be ensnared. The moment you fell a tug, that’s the signal for you to reel it in. You need to be quick as there are any number of predators in the water – other fish – just ready to grab an easy meal.

For that reason, I managed to land a mere single squid for the two hours I spent jigging. My colleague was less lucky – he had to visit the nearby market to bring home his fishy bounty to convince his other half that indeed, he had been out to sea!

Our fresh haul was served up as dinner by our boatman – never has plain rice and stir-fried squid tasted so good. Personally, I like mine served as sambal sotong, normally served up with nasi lemak.

So apart form its oil and gas bounty, both squid and Sorlano play their part in selling Terengganu to the outsider. I certainly find that reason enough to make a return visit soon.