"HANTUUU! Balik, balik (Ghosts! Go home)!" The ominous holler coming from inside a small lorry that had suddenly skidded to a stop not far from where I'm standing (and sweating) with a group of young architects clad in uniform black compels me to swivel sharply.
Shading my eyes against the late morning glare, I squint to get a better look at the source of the "warning".
Two young men stare quizzically at us from the safe confines of their mud-stained vehicle.
"Ada banyak hantu situ (There's lots of ghosts there)," says the one seated on the passenger seat, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush.
From the corner of my eye, I note a kopiah-clad pakcik making his way slowly across his well-manicured compound to get nearer to where we are.
"Cari apa?" he asks from behind his fence, a knowing look crossing his weathered visage.
"Tak de, Pak Cik. Kita nak ambik gambar tempat ni je (Nothing, uncle. We just want to take pictures of this place)," one of the guys with me replies placatingly.
The elderly man nods in response before allowing his gaze to fall on the rest of the group congregated in front the abandoned old mosque, taking in silently their arsenal of cameras, tripods and drones.
Meanwhile, the men in the lorry must have got restless waiting. The sound of engine being revved up pierces the tranquil calm of Kg Pelangai, Kuala Pilah, Negeri Sembilan.
As the pakcik too takes his leave to return to his tasks at home, I turn to my "companions" from GARISPXL.CO, a creative company that nurtures ideas towards producing remarkable visual imagery, unable to conceal the grim frown on my face.
"That's normal la. Any place that's been left abandoned for a long time will sure have something," says the company's bespectacled managing director and leader of the team, Salam Cempreng.
Probably realising that he'd just made things worse, the jovial Salam adds swiftly: "But you know, as long as your intentions are good, and you seek 'permission' nicely first before you enter, it'll be fine. We've not had any problems!"
Grimacing at his attempts to assuage my fears, I train my sight on the rest of the team members who are starting to make their way gingerly up the solid stone stairways to enter the dilapidated mosque, known to villagers as Masjid Lama Kg Pelangai.
There's GARIS' affable creative directors, Firdauz Ahmad and Zharfan Elias (Zenko), and its resident architecturalist, Zakee Man.
Together with Salam, they make up the team behind JEJARCH or Journey in Empowering Journal of Architecture, a non-profit architecture initiative with a mission to capture for posterity the beauty of forgotten spaces, in this case, Malaysia's mosques from the past.
Their primary goal, I recall reading from their website prior to our meeting, is to highlight the "intensity of a building's identity, the fundamental advantages of architectural design, and the elegance of space in response to the culture, tradition and contextual factors that establish historical relevance…"
TRACKING THE TRACKERS
My interest had been piqued to track down these young architects, a mix of graduates from Universiti Putra Malaysia (UPM) and Universiti Teknologi Mara (UiTM), after receiving a Whatsapp text from my uncle who'd excitedly shared in our family chat group several pictures of what appeared to be an abandoned mosque atop a hill, framed by abundant greenery.
But it wasn't the ugliness of dilapidation that was captured. Instead, the structure's past majesty came shining through from the images, thanks to the photographer's clever camerawork and sensitive portrayal of the subject matter.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of the words 'GARIS.MY' in a corner of one of the pictures. That was to be my lead. Excitedly, I did a Google search and eventually arrived at the team's FB page.
Imagine my delight when I saw many more beautiful visuals of abandoned mosques from various parts of the country. And it was then that I resolved to find the guys behind this intriguing project.
"This mosque, fully constructed of timber, was built in 1910, in the Demak architectural style," a voice slices into my reverie, returning me from my daydream to the present. I'm sweating profusely despite the shelter of the very same arched verandah that had captured my attention from my uncle's Whatsapp pictures.
Next to me, Salam looks on expectantly, probably half wondering whether I'd even heard what he'd said all along.
LESSON IN DESIGN
"Demak?" I blurt out, the word sounding terribly foreign.
Salam smiles before patiently explaining: "The Demak mosque design, originating from an actual mosque in Indonesia called the Great Mosque of Demak, is usually characterised by a multi-tiered pyramidal roof, usually in tiers of two or three. They're a logical extension of the square floor plans."
Stepping away from the verandah, I follow the affable 33-year-old as he excitedly points out the roof to me.
Sure enough, there's no onion-shaped dome anywhere, a feature commonly associated with mosques in general. Instead, there's a pagoda-like "top" crowning the structure.
"Very Oriental-looking," I murmur, as GARIS' architecturalist, Zakee Man, joins us.
I recall from my reading somewhere that the three-tier form might well be influenced by the form of the pagoda. In the past, many building craftsmen were Chinese and it's very possible that there might have been Malay craftsmen who'd inherited their skills from them (the Chinese).
Taking over from Salam, the bespectacled Penangite points out that this structure also possesses the Nusantara mosque typology, which is similar in set-up to the Chinese mosque typology — except for the pyramidal tiered roof.
Directing my gaze to the roof again, he points out the presence of a slight curve. Noting my blank expression with bemusement, Zakee Man elaborates: "A Nusantara mosque is generally pyramidal. Baffled by the curve, we did more research and eventually learnt that when the roof is thus, this means that it has an intervention of the Demak architectural style."
Beckoning me and Salam to follow him, the 26-year-old stops by the stone stairways, saying: "The use of stone was very typical of the time. See how solid it still is? Note also the single space layout inside and the absence of a minaret."
Stepping back, I take in the structure in front of me in silent reverence, imagining what it might have been like in the past when it bustled with life.
The village children running gaily around its well-trimmed compound; the community congregating here for prayers and Islamic learning; the solemn sound of the Azan (call to prayer) permeating the air five times a day…
With its location on a partial slope, and towering tiered roof seemingly reaching the sky, Masjid Lama Kg Pelangai is a handsome mosque, despite being a shadow of its former self.
It chokes me to see it fall into such disrepair. "That's why we're doing this," Salam's voice cuts into my thoughts.
Startled, I turn and he adds: "There are many beautiful and historically-significant mosques around the country which have been left abandoned as new mosques took their place.
"Sayang (it's a pity). In a way, we're racing against time with this project. You just never know when the next mosque is going to disappear."
"Done!" I hear the curly-haired Zenko, who'd hitherto been "shooting" inside the mosque with Fairuz in tow, holler as they hastily make their way towards their car to pack their equipment in preparation for the next stop: Juasseh; this time, in search of Masjid Lama Kg Terusan, built circa 1840.
"Jom (come)," beckons Zakee Man, before enthusiastically adding: "This is another interesting abandoned mosque to capture. It's located in the same compound as another functioning mosque, constructed much later. The main entrance to the former is built so low that the Jemaah (congregation) needed to lower their heads as they entered, a sign of respect before going into the house of God. We're going to do some aerial shots there to capture its surroundings to give better context to the image."
"Have you guys been there before?" I couldn't help blurting out, images of rubble blanketed by dense growth of shrubs suddenly floating into my mind.
A sheepish smile crosses Zakee Man's face as he replies: "Err, no. Not yet. Having done our research, we decided that this would be another fascinating mosque to capture. We have no idea whether it's still standing. But it's okay, we like surprises!"
"Yeah, failing which, if it's not there, we'll just have a food adventure in Kuala Pilah la," chips in Salam, before adding with a chuckle: "That's one of the best things about doing JEJARCH. We get to travel; we get to capture great architecture. AND we get to try the local food!"
THE A TEAM
"How do we decide which mosque to highlight? We look at the materials used, the design language, the story we think it's trying to tell, and of course, it's history," replies Salam, in answer to my question.
It's way past lunch time and the sound of cars noisily whizzing by as we tuck into a light fare by a roadside kopitiam is worlds away from the tranquillity that we'd just left behind in Juasseh.
Fortunately, the mosque, Masjid Lama Kg Terusan, is still standing and seems to be faring far better than the one in Kg Pelangai.
This, I'm duly informed at the site, is probably due to the fact that it shares the same compound as the new mosque, which means that a caretaker is around for light maintenance work.
Despite being more than 180 years old, the structure looks pretty solid. It has seen some new additions in terms of materials, for example, concrete replacing the wooden flooring sometime in 1928, and concrete again being used to encase the wooden pillars.
Munching hungrily on my kaya toast, I listen in rapt attention as Salam, who hails from Pekan, Pahang offers an insight into how GARISPXL.CO came about and just how far they've come with their JEJARCH initiative.
His voice rising over the din in the kopitiam, he begins: "Why the name GARISPXL.CO? Well, in the architectural world, every design and concept begin with a garis or line. The basic building blocks of visuals are made out of pixels, which we shortened to PXL. Merging these two basic elements resulted in our business name and identity."
Everyone in the team (who met each other at the same architecture workshop) has a background in architecture.
Salam, the oldest in the group and the resident "drone master", studied architecture at UPM and founded GARIS with Muar-born creative director, Firdauz.
Their idea for establishing GARIS back in 2014 was to provide those with an architecture background a platform to pursue visual production.
The 30-year-old Firdauz, who has a love for landscape photography, is still doing his Masters in Architecture at UPM.
The youngest is 23-year-old Zenko, the team member tasked with all their video editing work.
"Everyone in the team can shoot," he pipes in, "… but I'm the one who edits everything."
Incidentally, I discover that this self-taught videographer and editor from Kulai, Johor is also a mean choreographer at UiTM!
Nearer in age to Zenko is Zakee Man, 26, who also studied at UiTM and graduated with a Masters just last year.
A huge fan of travelling and architecture photography, he scours the Internet for potential mosques to explore.
When they began "operations" in 2014, the focus was on weddings for some extra money during their student years.
"After graduation, we decided to venture into photo and video commercials," recalls Salam.
Their first project was a design-related video for PAM (Persatuan Arkitek Malaysia or Malaysian Institute of Architects).
With a foot in the door in the industry, they approached other architecture firms and developers, creating videos and taking photographs for them.
"Our background is architecture but we can do anything related to visual production. Sometimes we combine 3D renderings with storytelling," elaborates Firdauz, pride in his voice.
JEJARCH, a self-funded initiative, is pretty new, shares Salam.
In fact, it was kick-started during the MCO (Movement Control Order) when many of the projects they were working on had to be put on hold.
"We needed to show that we're an architectural company with a strength in visual production," he explains.
Collectively, they decided to embark on a project where the pictures themselves would tell the story.
Continuing, Salam says: "We thought it'd be great if we could do something that would raise awareness on the beauty of old architecture, especially Malay architecture, using social media as our platform. Our first post came out in July."
CAPTURED FOR POSTERITY
Research entails Googling the words "Masjid lama di Malaysia (old mosques in Malaysia)", according to Zakee Man. "Ultimately, what we choose from the deluge of information has to fit our criteria of identity, language (of design) and principles."
Passionately, he continues: "We select a particular mosque because we recognise its value. We see the scale, proportion, form and function. Some of the mosques we'd chosen before had already been gazetted under specific Acts; some haven't. It's the latter that we're concerned about because they can be demolished any time."
Nodding, Firdauz chips in: "Our photos may be the last ones (of those mosques) as we got there in time. There's a need to record and archive. Anyone can take photos these days; what sets us apart is our background as architects and our knowledge of design language. Hopefully, what we do will trigger action — perhaps some kind of conservation initiative from different parties for these precious structures."
Suffice it to say, this undertaking isn't without its challenges.
According to Zakee Man, sometimes the mosque they select ends up not being there anymore despite Mr Google saying otherwise.
Then, there's the problem of accessibility. Some of these abandoned mosques aren't even within the radar of Google map!
Shares Salam: "Sometimes people share but they can be very vague with their descriptions of the whereabouts. There are times when even the villagers don't know. When this happens, we bring in Firdauz and his expertise. He's really good with those tiny details and locating all the lubang (holes)!"
What about hantu (ghosts), I ask slyly. A chorus of chuckles ensues, before Salam replies: "Well, we don't deny anything. When we first enter any place, we'll read some holy verses and make it known that our intentions are genuine. We also ensure that the condition of the place isn't outwardly dangerous. Most of the time these places are so overgrown with bushes that it's the snakes we fear most!
Scroll through their FB page and you'll see amazing images, accompanied by a series of short narratives in the format of a travel journal. What's interesting is that these "journals" are able to engage the audience. "The community starts sharing their memories of these mosques and the stories they know," says Salam, beaming delightedly.
At the time of our meeting, at least seven mosques have been covered by the team. The latest one was in Rembau, Negeri Sembilan. The team plans to capture and highlight at least 12 mosques (or more). They also hope to produce a calendar that will showcase the beauty of these forgotten spaces by the end of the year.
After that? Again, the familiar beam from Salam. "When we started JEJARCH, we opted to begin with mosques first as we believe that a mosque is and should be the first structure that's put in place for any area that's being developed."
Continuing, he shares: "For the second series of JEJARCH, we hope to delve into broken architecture — buildings that are almost destroyed and no one wants to go in anymore. We want to capture their beauty. Definitely, we're looking forward to the surprises that await!"
To follow the JEJARCH journals and for more information on GARISPXL.CO, check out its Facebook page, GARISPXL.CO, or go to www.garis.my.