Ghaz Style

HIS clothes have adorned stars and one that comes immediately to mind is Elizabeth Hurley. No, not that attention-grabbing, tight-fitting number held together by large safety pins she wore in 1994 when accompanying then boyfriend Hugh Grant to the premiere of his film Four Weddings and a Funeral.
That was a Versace.
It's the equally attention-grabbing, see-through mesh dress that the actress wore in 1999.
Suitably impressed, the UK tabloid The Daily Mirror got its designer, Mohammad Ghazali Ahmad, to re-create it for a readers' contest.
Ghaz, as he is known to friends in London, has definitely come a long way from his first "white skirt" sewing project some 20 years ago, when he broke 24 sewing machine needles.
These days, he can effortlessly put together, say, a leather bomber jacket quilted with a Hermishs scarf in a day, without breaking any needles too.
"No, no, I haven't broken any needles since," he says, laughing.
This Kuala Lumpur-born 39-year-old has been calling London home for the past 18 years, having moved there initially as a fashion design student in 1985.
He is now head designer at Consortium Designs Ltd, and has had occasion to meet Victoria `Posh Spice' Beckham, among others, but it is her mother who wears his designs.
The company specialises in eveningwear and wedding gowns, and supplies to all major fashion retailers in London, including House of Fraser, Britain's leading "designer brands" department store group.
Ghaz's forte is eveningwear, especially those that enhance and flatter. "Men pretty much know what looks good on a woman."
Is that why so many top fashion designers are men?
"You can actually tell if a dress is designed by a man or a woman," Ghaz notes.
His designs, for example, unapologetically flaunt what he thinks are women's best assets - the shoulders and legs. Off-shoulders and with slits up to there?
"Something like that."
He describes his designs as "very Ungaro", referring to French designer Emanuel Ungaro. "I like his designs, they are an inspiration."
Ungaro has a penchant for fripperies, flounces and flamboyance and his signature dresses are floaty, floral and flirty.
But success didn't not come easy for Ghaz. It took a lot of hard work, he says, especially when he had to prove that he has what it takes to succeed in his chosen field.
His dad, for example, wanted him to be a doctor, lawyer or businessman; actually anything but a fashion designer.
He was in the science stream at St John's Institution in Kuala Lumpur, but test tubes, beakers and Bunsen burners quickly gave way to paper and colouring pens. "I was always doodling. I am not good at drawing figures but I like to sketch clothes."
For reading materials, he had fashion magazines like Vogue instead of science textbooks.
"My dad wasn't too keen, but my mum and sisters were very supportive of my interests.
"It's understandable. Parents want their children to pursue a career which can basically guarantee their future."
At the time, he was already a "fashion consultant" of sorts to his mum and sisters. "They referred to me when they mixed and matched what they wore... they trusted my taste in style."
A sense of style, he definitely has no lack of, with even the simple black round-neck T-shirt he is wearing for the interview looking deliciously chic.
Ghaz believes that whatever profession one chooses to pursue, persistence is the key. "It was hard work but it paid off."
He had enrolled in the fashion design department of Institut Kemahiran Mara after obtaining his Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia in 1982. He was only one of three male students that did.
One of the other two has since also carved a name for himself in the fashion world - local designer Salikin Sidek.
Ghaz remembers his "white skirt" project very well. "I didn't know how to sew and had to use this old manual sewing machine where you have to use your legs to get it going. And we had to work with this piece of white cloth, which get dirty easily. It was a real mess."
Dad relented when Ghaz started to win accolades. "He was proud of me, singing praises... He was finally agreeing with Mum."
Two years later, his parents enrolled him for a three-year degree course at the Central School of Fashion in London. "It was a private school. My parents paid the fees."
And it wasn't exactly a great start to his stay in London too. Friends who were to meet him at the airport didn't turn up. "I remember it was early on a Sunday morning. I took the bus into the city and headed for the Marble Arch where I was told I would find some Malaysians. I waited but I didn't see anyone looking remotely like a Malaysian."
He eventually ran into Malaysia Airlines flight attendants who had been on the same flight with him and they took him back to their hotel. The next day, they helped him find his school, where he finally met with his friends.
After settling in, Ghaz went in search of a part-time job to help pay his expenses of living in London. He saw an advertisement for a machinist, not caring so much what it was as he just wanted to make some money. "When I arrived there and asked for the job, the guy told me that a company a few doors away was looking for a designer. I hurriedly put my illustrations together and went over. I was asked to return at 5pm for the last interview of the day. They took an immediate liking to my illustrations and asked me when I could start."
One of the first things he did, after landing the job the company called Roots, was to tell his mum to stop sending money. "My school principal was very understanding, and as it was a private school, I could actually go to work in the day and hit the books at night. I knew it was a financial strain for my family. I wasn't making much but it was enough for me and my studies."
Within a year with Roots, one of his creations - which he called the "Miss World" dress - sold 10,000 pieces to a single buyer. "It was in crepe and later we re-created it using other fabrics."
Selfridges ordered 200 pieces of that.
Ghaz ended up staying with Roots for 10 years, before moving on to Consortium Designs and undertook projects for Debenhams, John Louis and Selfridges.
Today, Ghaz heads a team of eight Greek "machinists". He's also in charge of putting together the company's twice-a-year collections - spring/summer and autumn/winter. "We work six months ahead. The catalogue for the spring/summer 2004 collection would be out by now." (He is already working on the autumn/winter collection.)
This year, Ghaz expects sheen fabric in "peacock" colours and the classic black-and-white to dominate the scene. He personally likes burgundy - "it suits all skin colours" - and, of course, black.
The Malaysian fashion scene?
"Everybody dresses well here... smart, clean and sleek but is much influenced by trends in the US and UK. Designs have progressed but there is still a touch of tradition in them.
"One good thing here is you can still get things made to measure, at not too high a cost," he adds.
Yes, Malaysian batik and songket have strong potential, Ghaz says, pointing out that the kain ikat has been used by Gibraltar-born designer John Galliano in some of his creations in Paris. "Songket is very intricate ... I can already see it being used as bodices in eveningwear."
A homecoming?
"The market is expanding. People dress up for shows and social functions. I'd like to see more of that. Yes, my designs could do well in Malaysia."
His family actually want him to start something of his own back here, so that they can get to see him more often. Presently, he tries to return once a year. This time, his three-week break, included short trips with his English friends to Cambodia and Bali. "I simply had to see Angkor Wat."
"When I come back, I bring some of my English friends and introduce them to the country and the culture," Ghaz says, without a trace of British accent and gestures, despite having lived in London all those years.
In fact, he has introduced Manglish to his friends in London. "Most of them now end their sentences with a `lah'," he laughs.
Two years ago when he came back for his niece's wedding, he was asked to make up the pelamin (bridal dais). "I was given only three days' notice."
And he still sews one or two pieces on request by friends. "I actually like to stitch the fabrics myself."
None of his siblings (five brothers and six sisters) are in the fashion business. They are mostly in banking, finance, and accountancy. Likewise, none of his nephews and nieces ("25 of them, I think") take after him. "I noticed that one of my nieces is very fashion-conscious, but I guess that's typical of girls her age."
It may be some time before Ghaz could consider returning to Malaysia for good. "I have a lot of commitments in London."
We hope that it will not be too long before we see the fashion label "Ghaz".

I want my Cadillac!

"DO not drive the way you drive back home," Henry Wong advises. "Remember that you're driving a left-hand-drive vehicle and you will be on the right side of the road," the executive in charge of General Motors' international communications points out helpfully.
"Do not stop along the freeways. Do not stop anywhere to take pictures. Do not break speed limits. The roads are heavily patrolled.
"When cutting into a lane, do not suddenly slow down. You will get hit from the back.
"Once on the freeway, the Pacific Ocean will be on your right. If it's not, you have taken the wrong turn.
"Have a good drive, ladies and gentlemen."
The Cadillac ride and drive assignment in the US last month was part of a General Motors programme to introduce the company's products and activities to a visiting seven-member Malaysian party of Hicomobil Sdn Bhd officials and news media representatives.
Hicomobil, a wholly-owned subsidiary of DRB-Hicom Bhd, was set up to distribute Chevrolet cars. The Malaysians were invited to the North American International Auto Show in Detroit, and then on to Los Angeles to get a first-hand feel of the new Cadillacs.
Divided into two teams, the first comprised Hicomobil chief executive officer Norzahid Mohd Zahudi, and writers KP Lee and Abdullah Hassan; the second, Hicomobil's sales division head Arba Abdul Rahman, TV3 senior general manager Datuk Chamil Wariya, DRB-Hicom senior manager Faridah Idris and I.
One minor problem: I do not own a driver's licence. Yup, I don't drive.
"No worries," says DRB-Hicom executive Zurina Sarwan when making arrangements for the trip. "You don't really need to drive on this assignment. But those who have a driver's licence, we can get it converted into an international one to enable them to drive in Los Angeles."
Norzahid and Lee, on the one hand, and Arba and Chamil, on the other, were the designated drivers for their respective teams. Abdullah and Faridah also drive but opted not to as they felt uncomfortable handling a left-hand drive, and actually getting on American highways.
The assignment was simple enough. We were to drive ourselves south from the St Regis Monarch Beach Resort at Dana Point to Temecula, have lunch at the Winery, then head north through the mountains to get back to the hotel.
It was to be a leisurely drive although we do have to get back to the hotel in good time as we had a flight home to catch.
The name Cadillac is appropriately that of Antoine de La Mothe Cadillac, the French military commander who founded the city of Detroit in 1701. The Cadillac Automobile Company was formed in Detroit by Henry M. Leland, a precision manufacturer of automotive components.
General Motors bought Cadillac in 1909, and in time made it into an icon of American culture.
But in recent years, the GM division, reportedly, had been sleepwalking while European and Japanese luxury brands stole their customers, prestige and pride.
It is now bouncing back, spearheaded by no less than a trio of hard-charging, eye-catching offerings: the XLR luxury roadster, the SRX medium luxury utility vehicle, and the 400-horsepower CTS-V sports sedan.
"The complete Cadillac lineup today is more compelling than at any time in the past 50 years. The product renaissance we began several years ago is now in full force," declares Cadillac general manager Mark LaNeve.
Designs of the new Cadillacs have been described as "bold and edgy, yet elegant and refined". The "sharp edges" are maintained but in more of chiseled look.
Don't bother watching out for the marque on Malaysian roads though. The cars won't make it to our shores just yet, not until a right-hand drive version is made available, which naturally would have to be preceded by firm signs of sufficient demand.
So if the sleek and sexy XLR proves to be pretty close to your dream car - as I would expect it to be for a whole lot of Malaysians - well, you will just have to dream on.
The US$75,000 car with a retractable hard top (push and hold a single button, and the XLR converts from coupe to open roadster in less than 30 seconds) epitomises luxury on wheels. The gauges on the dashboard were even designed in conjunction with Italian luxury brand Bvlgari.
Its performance-oriented chassis and structure, and an all-new 4.6L Northstar V-8 VVT rear-wheel drive engine make it the lightest, most powerful vehicle in its class. Its key competitors? Mercedes-Benz SL500, Lexus SC430 and Jaguar XK8.
Sadly however, none of the Malaysian drivers got a chance to take the car for a spin. The Cadillac officials had called in an XLR after it was involved in a slight accident when driven by a Korean team.
Yes, apart from Malaysia, teams from South Korea, Thailand and India were invited as well.
So we had to be happy with the SRX and CTS, and who can blame the Hicomobil guys for gushing with excitement over the new Cadillac range? Earlier in Detroit at the Auto Show, they had already been treated to GM's new models and concept cars.
I personally have never quite understood why men make such a big fuss over cars. For me, if it can take me from point A to point B, it has served its purpose.
Then again, I know of some women who actually have pet names for their cars.
"Listen," Arba says, as we head into San Diego. "Nothing. You hear nothing. Listen how quiet the engine is." He was driving the SRX in the first of the two-leg journey south.
I can tell the engine sound of a Harley motorcycle from that of a car but between different makes or even genres of cars?
The SRX is a mid-size, front-engine four-door luxury sport utility, which comes in both rear-wheel-drive and all-wheel-drive versions. "It's better than the X5," Arba enthuses. The BMW X5, Lexus RX 330, Volvo XC90 and Mercedes-Benz M-Class are among the SRX's direct competitors.
Marketing director for the SRX Jay Spenchian describes the SUV as "a true driver's utility."
"SRX is unlike any of the luxury utilities out there. It offers great looks, precise road manners and unprecedented utility.
"It is exactly the vehicle Cadillac and customers shopping for luxury utilities need," he says.
Arba cajoles Chamil: "Give it a try, Datuk. The handling is good."
Chamil, though designated a co-driver, was initially hesitant, then decided: "Well, if Arba can drive, I surely can."
He got behind the wheel of the CTS when the two teams changed cars at a marketplace that was the first checkpoint of the trip.
The first team had arrived a little later than us.
"We had a cigarette and coffee at a rest area," Lee explains. It is not by chance that the two smokers in the group, Norzahid and Abdullah, were on the same team.
The Cadillac design team gave the CTS a look all of its own, one that is said to be "uniquely Cadillac."
"The design adopts the sharp forms, angular shapes and crisp edges of the Stealth aircraft, along with other American high-tech geometric influences," the CTS brief says. It has a "taut, lean body that's long from dash to axle, with short overhangs."
It is in the same market segment as the BMW 3 Series, Mercedes-Benz C-Class, the Audi A4 and Lexus ES 300.
The CTS, Spenchian says, is attracting new, younger customers to Cadillac showrooms on a daily basis. He is confident that the marque's traditional supporters will be happy with it while other buyers will be won over.
Its interior provides all the amenities that luxury car buyers have come to expect, with the emphasis on comfort and convenience. It makes use of warm hues and rich materials to contrast with the cool, high-tech cockpit appearance of the interiors, hence balancing contemporary feel with touches of traditional luxury.
As we were the first car to leave the checkpoint, we had to follow a lead car all the way to the Winery in Temecula.
The drive was a breeze although the route instructions mindfully warned drivers of speed limits in certain zones such as near schools.
A quick lunch at the Winery and we were set to go again. "You guys ready?" a Cadillac official asked.
"We can?" asks Arba, surprised.
We had been told during lunch of some minor incidences involving ride and drive teams from other countries, and that we might have to convoy with the lead car all the way back.
"You guys Malaysians, yes? Sure you can. You can leave first. Just be careful in the mountains."
That was something of a vote of confidence for Malaysian drivers; a reputation hard earned in the streets of KL having preceded them, perhaps.
We arrived at the hotel with time to spare for our airport transfer. And the men couldn't stop chattering about the cars they had driven.
"Boss, can we bring one of the cars home," Arba asks Norzahid. Yes, I want one too. Here's a little secret: I've always had a weakness for the chiseled look. The driver's licence can be sorted out later.

Chevy Chase

NORZAHID Mohd Zahudi is not ashamed to tell his staff or anyone who would listen that he doesn't even have the "MCE" certificate.
An F9 for his Bahasa Malaysia paper saw the chief executive officer of Hicomobil Sdn Bhd finishing his Form Five in 1978 without a Malaysian Certificate of Examination certificate, the precursor of the Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia.
"I failed only the Bahasa Malaysia paper. I did very well in all other subjects but the (education) system dictated that I must pass the paper for me to get the certificate. And the system dictated that I must have that certificate to continue my studies," says the former Kajang High School student.
All his former employers knew that he did not have the certificate but hired him anyway.
"I would like to think that they hired me because they knew I was capable of doing the job. When I first met DRB-Hicom Bhd chairman Tan Sri Mohd Saleh Sulong, he asked if I could write in Bahasa Malaysia," he laughs.
Hicomobil is the wholly-owned subsidiary of DRB-Hicom Bhd. Norzahid reports directly to Saleh.
Hicomobil and Norzahid have one thing in common - both are new to the group.
Hicomobil was set up last September to distribute General Motors' Chevrolet cars in Malaysia. He joined the company three months later in December.
Despite being only six months old, the company is already giving other foreign car distributors a run for their money. Between September and December 2003, the company sold about 900 Chevrolet cars. December, the month which Norzahid joined, sales reached 282.
This was followed by the best monthly sales figure to date of 423 cars in January, despite the uncertainty then over car prices following the Government's announcement of a new duty structure for the industry.
Norzahid has nothing but praise for his sales team, attributing Hicomobil's performance to "good teamwork and strong effort".
"Chevrolet is a fairly new brand in Malaysia but is attracting a lot of interest. We know we have what it takes to do more," he says.
The Aveo is currently the company's best-selling car, making up 55 per cent of sales. Chevrolet buyers are aged between 24 and 42 years, prompting the company to push its offerings as vehicles for the "young and young at heart".
Norzahid is not a new face in the industry. He was with Perusahaan Otomobil Nasional Bhd (Proton) as regional manager for Europe between 1993 and 1996. Based in Kuala Lumpur, Norzahid travelled extensively to mainly the UK and Germany. At that time, his responsibilities included strategising Proton's thrust into Europe.
"That was a different ball game. In Europe, we had to sell Malaysia first, followed by the company, then only the product. We had Malaysian flags flying at our outlets. We had information on Malaysia in our offices.
"Why? Because we had to tell people there what and where Malaysia is before we can sell Malaysian products."
It's a different story now.
"Malaysians are affluent and they know the brand is American, although the Aveo is actually a Korean car while the Optra comes out of Thailand and the Lumina is from Australia. They know where quality is concerned, there is no compromise with GM cars."
Chevrolet is one of 12 brands under General Motors. The others are Buick, Cadillac, GMC, Holden, HUMMER, Oldsmobile, Opel, Pontiac, Saab, Saturn and Vauxhall.
In some countries, the GM distribution network also markets vehicles manufactured by GM Daewoo, Isuzu, Fuji (Subaru) and Suzuki.
Norzahid's experience with Proton proved invaluable as he was involved with all aspects of the group's activities: manufacturing, distributorship, dealership, sales, used car dealership, insurance, financing and consumer relations.
"In this business, we need to satisfy all seven parties in the chain - ourselves as the distributor, our dealers, the sales personnel, used car dealers, insurance companies, finance companies and the car buyers. If all the parties higher up in the chain are satisfied, the buyers will get what they want."
That is how Norzahid wants Hicomobil to operate. Specifically, he is looking at three key areas: infrastructure, human capital and processes.
"A business cannot operate if you don't even have one of these three components."
So, he is putting in place what he has accumulated from his previous 21 years of working experience, 10 of which were in international business marketing and business development, eight in project management consultancy, and three in internal auditing, personnel and industrial management.
Apart from the car industry, Norzahid had worked in the oil and gas, and services sectors.
His first "temporary assignment", as he calls it, was as a member of the army of construction workers building the Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia in Bangi. He was 18.
He left after nine months when he came across some former classmates enrolling for courses at the university. It was the lowest point of his life.
"Malu-lah, I was a deputy head prefect in school, a top student who could have made it for overseas studies..." he trails off.
He left for Singapore to work as a factory hand but returned 1 1/2 years later when his father came for him. "He was my father, my mentor, my best friend. He asked me to come home."
Re-sitting the MCE was not an option. He didn't want to waste another year. Norzahid says he only had himself to blame for failing his Bahasa Malaysia paper.
"I took things for granted. Many other Malay students do too when it comes to Bahasa Malaysia."
But his government servant father was also partly at fault, maybe.
"When we were growing up, my dad used to tape the bottom part of the TV screen to cover up the Malay subtitles. He didn't want us to read the subtitles when watching English movies.
"And we had to read one article from an English newspaper a day, and at dinnertime he would ask us what we understood from that article. We also did not live in a dominantly Malay neighbourhood."
Back home from Singapore, he joined a company as a clerk. "I had to share a desk and a chair with a few others, and the immediate goal became getting my own desk and chair."
The break came when he joined Malaysia Mining Corp (MMC) in 1982 as an accounts clerk, and yes, he got his own desk and chair. Subsequently, he was promoted to the post of an assistant internal auditor.
"Well, I not only got my own table and chair but also my own room."
What next? A secretary? "Yes, I got that also."
In 1985, he left MMC to join Protek Consultant Engineers Sdn Bhd as project planning consultant, then another short stint with McDermott Engineering Sdn Bhd.
And it was in 1990 at Ranhill Bersekutu Sdn Bhd as projects management consultant that Norzahid was assigned to undertake tasks in Indonesia and Germany.
Three years later, he joined Proton as its regional manager for Europe, where the job specifications covered overseeing the group's management, sales and marketing operations there.
After four years, he became a director/general manager at Trisilco Sdn Bhd where one of his many tasks was to implement international marketing strategies for the technology company.
Today, heading a 30-odd strong team at the Hicomobil headquarters in Kuala Lumpur, Norzahid wants to change the negative connotation associated with a car salesman, or any salesman for that matter.
"Why is being a salesman seen by people as a last resort job? Is it because you don't need qualifications to be one?
"I feel that the industry, any industry, does not give enough recognition to salesmen. To my mind, they are entrepreneurs and they must be treated as such."
Norzahid, who has since earned the "appropriate paper qualifications" (a fellow of the UK Institute of Sales and Marketing Management and affiliate professional of the UK Chartered Institute of Marketing), has approached Boston University and Chartered Institute of Marketing to draw up training modules for his sales personnel to equip them to become entrepreneurs.
Most companies pay their sales personnel a basic salary and have a commissions-based incentive scheme.
"They are normally given targets. When they don't meet the targets, they get sacked. But we forget that we don't give them the tools to undertake their work. I've been there. I know the hardship faced by a salesman."
He has also introduced uniform at Hicomobil: a white shirt with epaulette, with "Chevrolet" embroidered on the left side of the chest, and 0041 Regular Fit 200 Lee blue jeans.
Since joining the company, Norzahid has held several dealers' conferences as well, principally to make himself accessible to the company's business associates.
"I want to understand them, their problems. I want them to know that I am prepared to work with them. Each and every one of them has my calling card. On that calling card is my handphone number. They can call me anytime."
Norzahid says he is not out to be a hero in the industry. "Heroes die young," adds this youthful 43-year-old who smokes 2through packs of Dunhill a day and several cigars at night.
With his plate so full, he doesn't have much time for himself and his family. Wife is bank officer Nor Aiza Mohd Jaafar and they have a 14 year old son, Muhammad Haziq Ashraf.
He is known to leave the office for home at Bukit Jelutong in Shah Alam very late at night.
Arba Abdul Rahman, head of the Hicomobil's sales division, says "the boss is still in the office at 10 pm on weekdays at times." The company observes a five-day work week and alternate Saturdays.
The avid golfer used to boast a handicap of eight ("...won myself a lot of microwave ovens") but now declares himself an 18 handicapper.
"Ahh, give me a few months..." he says, apropos, in both making an impact on the local car industry and a comeback on the golf course.

Red, Red Rice

THEY come from padi farmer families but Marzuki Zakaria, 49, and his wife, Rosnah Ahmad, 42, didn't work the fields when they were young. He was with his uncle in Kuala Lumpur while she tended to the household when her parents were out in the field.
It was a year after they got married, he at the age of 24 and she just turning 18, that they decided to set up home at Kampung Baru Paya Mengkuang, Gurun, in Kedah, and to get their own padi field.
"Dulu, Akak tak pernah buat kerja ni. Dah kawin baru buat sawah, noreh getah (I never did this before. It was only after I got married that I worked the field and tapped rubber)," says Rosnah, pulling threads of hardened latex from the bark of the old tree.
"Tanah sawah dah berkurun. Pokok getah pun dah tua... sepuluh, dua puluh batang (We have had the padi field for a long time. The rubber trees are also old... 10 to 20 trees)," she says, as she deftly runs her knife round the tree.
Numbers don't seem to matter much to the mother of six. A quick count shows there are closer to 50 trees. The padi field is as old or slightly older than their eldest daughter, who is 24.
Rosnah supplements the family income by tapping rubber. She gets between RM40 and RM50, depending on the price of rubber, for each delivery every two days of the latex to a nearby factory. She also makes and sells ikan pekasam (pickled fish), a Kedah specialty.
Rosnah keeps a pretty routine schedule; tapping rubber trees for about three hours in the morning beginning at 7 am before returning home to cook. After lunch, she joins Marzuki and other adults at the bendang (padi field) until late afternoon.
"Nothing much to do now except spraying fertiliser and looking out for pests. The busiest periods are when we are planting... and harvesting."
She has been doing the bulk of the work ever since Marzuki went for a cataract operation some months ago.
Their padi field doesn't look any different from, say, those in the Muda scheme, Kedah's rice bowl.
But it produces red rice, which was something of an anathema – until Nestle Malaysia came along with its "One Village, One Product" programme. The international food conglomerate uses the highly nutritional grain in the manufacture of its infant cereal products.
The pilot project, which started up a year ago, involves 16.3 hectares of land and 12 farmers.
"This is my plot. That's my father's. Next to it is my father-in-law's," Marzuki says in the growing heat of the late morning as he shows us around.
In the middle of the field, there is a solitary betel nut tree whose purpose seems to be to mark the location of the water pump. Another tree, closer to the main road, is referred to by villagers as the "telecommunication tower". It is the only spot in the vicinity where you can get a reception on your mobile phone.
And if you're hoping to catch scenes from some Malay drama, the likes of TV3's Cerekarama offerings - farmers resting in little huts after a morning's hard work in the field and buffaloes being used to plough the land - you're in the wrong place.
"Kat sini mana ada (There is no such thing here)," says Marzuki, laughing, when asked about the huts. "It's (the field) so close to the house. When we are tired, we just go home."
And tractors have long replaced buffaloes for working the land. The farmers also no longer undertake the backbreaking transplanting of seedlings.
Nestle plans to re-introduce the process this year though, but would bring in machinery for the purpose.
Currently, the farmers use a technique called tabur terus, or broadcast system, where seeds are sprayed directly on to the land. With this technique, padi could be found growing even on the bunds.
But not all is easy. During the milking stage (some 90 days after planting when the rice forms in the husks), "lodging" can happen, which is when the stalks get too heavy and collapse to the ground. This is a major cause of grain loss as well as decline in rice quality.
Heavy rain and strong winds can also cause damage to the stalks, making it necessary to harvest the rice manually then.
Treading gingerly along the bunds, we came across small semi-circle patches in the field. "Kerja orang malam (the work of the night people)," Marzuki says; referring to rats, which gnaw at the stalks to get to the padi.
Birds are also a problem, especially near harvest time, which is normally between 105 and 120 days after planting.
The project had its second harvest last month. The first one was in September, which saw an average yield of 3.051 tonnes per hectare, compared to the company's target of four tonnes, says Nestle agriculture services manager Yong Lee Keng.
At the same time, Nestle also harvested the semi-commercial trial project it introduced with Nina Agriculture on a 10-hectare land nearby. There, the average yield was 4.629 tonnes per hectare.
Rice supplier Ninamaju Sdn Bhd buys the padi at 85 sen per kg from the farmers and processes it for Nestle. The farmers have seen a 40 per cent increase in income given the red padi's higher yield compared to the white variety, and also the much better price fetched.
White rice goes for a government-set minimum price of 55 sen a kg.
Yong says the company had sourced the non-photosensitive period variety of rice from Sarawak, where the padi, known as padi angin, doesn't take as long to be planted and harvested.
Old habits die hard though, even as the farmers at Kampung Baru Paya Mengkuang are introduced and implementing new things in a trade they have been in for generations.
Nestle has taught the participants of the project the tried and tested way to produce red rice, with the understanding of purchasing their entire production. This allows the company to have direct control over the quality and supply of the raw material for its manufacturing operations.
The company had done much groundwork too, having evaluated suitable farming sites, prepared the land, and advised the farmers on how to manage the plots as well as on pre- and post-harvest control processes. The farmers are introduced to improved planting materials, farming practices and technology, so as to maximise yield.
In the padi field, there is a plot where it looks like not a single blade of grass grows in-between the padi stalks. Nestle holds up this plot as an example of how things should be.
"We tell the farmers, if they plant the way we teach them, their plot will look like this. The yield will be higher. We weed out the grass before the seeds are broadcast," Yong says.
Unfortunately, not many of the other plots look like Nestle's. The farmers did not properly prepare the land before planting.
"That is one of the reasons why we plan to introduce transplanting next year. Normally when transplanting is done, there will be water on the plot and grass don't grow in water," he explains.
As the various problems with planting and harvesting in the pilot project are sorted out, Nestle intends to increase red rice planting to a targeted 150 hectares per season which will enable it to be self-sufficient in supplies for its infant cereal production operations.
"Malaysia has become the centre for red rice production following Nestle's consolidation of its operations in the region. We now manufacture the infant cereals at our plant in Shah Alam and 80 per cent of our production are exported to countries within Asean."
Currently, red rice is imported from Thailand to meet the company's raw grain demand.
Red rice doesn't taste as good as white rice and so in infant cereals, flavours are added.
"If you're a white rice eater, you won't like red rice. It's a little hard, like pulut hitam (black glutinous rice). You have to use a lot of water to cook it. In Thailand, they make porridge from it," Yong says.
Back at Marzuki's house, children are playing under a tree house on top of a cashew tree that overlooks the padi field.
"Malam-malam, kami tidur kat situ (sometimes we sleep there at night)," says Marzuki's nephew, Badrul Hisham Mohd Shukri, or Ka'un as he is known among family members.
Ka'un, like his uncle when he was his age, doesn't help out in the bendang. In fact, none of Marzuki's six children - five daughters and a son - does.
Ka'un, who spends his weekends and school holidays at Marzuki's house, says in his thick Kedahan accent, "Kat sini kawan ramai. Petang-petang dok kat titi tepi sawah (I have many friends here. In the evening, we would sit at the small bridge next to the padi field)."
He and his other school-age cousins also spend their free time watching Hindustani movies on TV.
Little wonder, over lunch at the house, Rosnah says, "Mana ada masa...ada aja kerja nak buat (I don't have free time... there is a lot of work to be done)."
She, together with the other womenfolk, had prepared a spread of fish curry with ladyfingers, sambal belacan, blanched young cashew leaves as ulam, grilled ikan termenong (or ikan kembong to KLites) and acar rampai made up of sliced cucumber, onions and red chillies.
In a typical Malay household, the men eat first, followed by the women and children.
The only boy in Marzuki's family, the shy 14-year-old Mohammad Zahir, doesn't know as yet what he wants to be after he finishes school. His same-age cousin Ka'un intends to become a policeman.
Maybe Zahir will follow in the footsteps of his father and grandfather, which is looking to be a reasonable vocation with companies like Nestle having started to come in to help offer farmers a brighter future.

Weekend At the Lakehouse

ASK for a glass of teh tarik at the Lakehouse in Ringlet, Cameron Highlands, and you might well be told to go dip your cup in the lake across the road from the hotel.
Indeed, the muddied Sultan Abu Bakar Lake does look like a gigantic cuppa teh susu. Land clearing by farmers and uncontrolled development have caused the rivers that flow into the lake to be heavily silted.
It's hardly surprising then that the Sultan Abu Bakar Lake no longer attracts people enough to stay at the Lakehouse; which is, ironically, located in an area called "The Valley of Eternal Spring", about 1,000m above sea level.
It was once a popular picnic spot and we couldn't spot very many visitors sitting by the lake during our weekend stay there.
To us, the Tudor-style country house with landscaped green terraces sitting atop a hill overlooking the lake felt like "home away from home".
The staff were extremely friendly and the food exceptional – the freshly-baked scones with strawberry jam and cream, and English tea were to-die-for. It was no surprise to find walk-in customers asking for just that!
The 31-year-old hotel has only 18 rooms - 11 deluxe rooms, three junior suites, three family suites and one honeymoon suite - making it a cosy, quiet escape.
It may be a cliche, but here, the song “Everybody Knows Your Name" (from sitcom Cheers) does apply and though there was no Sam Malone behind the bar, we found Gary Dickman at the reception counter.
"I've been here only a few weeks and everybody already knows who I am," he said, explaining that he was standing in for the hotel's general manager Krishna Badhur who was on a short overseas posting.
He personally showed us to our room; a family suite with three beds, one of which was a four-poster bed. The windows opened out to the lake but, unfortunately, it was not a happy sight.
We had a full-day outdoor programme when we were at Cameron Highlands, and returned to the Lakehouse late in the evening just in time for dinner.
We had driven up to Tanah Rata and Gunung Brinchang to check out the touristy places, especially those that attract local tourists by the busload.
The next day before we set out to continue with our tour, we were actually asked what we would like for dinner that night. We've stayed at many places before but this was the first time we were asked what we would like for dinner right after finishing breakfast.
Dickman could either guess that we would be too tired to eat out or he really wanted us to try the hotel's roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.
"Go on. Have a good time. Kali will take good care of you. We'll see you tonight," he said as he ushered us into the Land Rover and waved us goodbye.
He had arranged a tour for us with Camping Holidays (Malaysia) Sdn Bhd's nature guide K. Kali. "Tell Kali what you want to do and he will see that you'll get to do it," he added.
Indeed, we stayed out the whole day. By the time we got back to the hotel, we were exhausted and actually grateful that we had pre-ordered our dinner.
Seeing our tired faces, Dickman asked if we preferred to have our dinner served in the room instead. "Got room service, ah?" Photographer May exclaimed. We decided against being "anti-social" and after a hot bath and feeling very much refreshed, we trooped down to the dining room.
After dinner, we sat in front of the fireplace (yes, a real fireplace!) in the lounge with cups of hot chocolate and cappuccino, only wishing that we had brought marshmallows to toast - all heavenly for a chilly night like this.
Kicking off our shoes and sitting cross-legged with scattered cushions all around us, we felt truly at home. "Do what you want," Dickman said while he entertained some friends at the patio.
We settled for gin rummy, making a whole lot of noise teaching Dickman's son, Aaron, how to play the card game while the other guests were nursing their after-dinner drinks and reading magazines and books.
In the games room next door, board games were available along with a pool table while the soccer-mad adults were glued to the television set to catch their teams in action.
We turned in quite late despite being tired. As the last embers of the fireplace faded, we hoped to return to the Lakehouse (and to a clearer lake) with the same friendly staff and continental fare.

Breathtaking Camerons

WHEN William Cameron reported about "this fine plateau with gentle slopes shut in by lofty mountains" to the government way back in 1885, was he describing the Cameron Highlands or a small plateau named Blue Valley?
In fact, was it he at all - or Kulop Riau, a Malay chap who had accompanied him on his mapping expeditions - who discovered Cameron Highlands 118 years ago?
Maybe it was H.C. Robinson, after whom a waterfall in Tanah Rata was named about the same time that Cameron was said to have found the highlands?
Cameron had described the Blue Valley in his report to Hugh Low, Perak's British Resident, but nature guide K. Kali of Camping Holiday (M) Sdn Bhd believes that the Irish surveyor was actually at what is now called Lojing Highlands.
"(It's) after the Blue Valley, near the border to Kelantan. Robinson was actually the one who discovered the highlands," he says, while driving us around Tanah Rata.
"A waterfall was named after him," he says, pointing to the signboard showing the way to Robinson Fall.
And Kulop Riau? Well, he never figured, which is hardly surprising because "the mat sallehs came and stamped their names all over the place. They were leaving a legacy... that's what they were doing," Kali says. And by the way, it was the Chinese tycoons who built the bungalows on the highlands, not the British.
"They chased them (the Chinese) away but they came back. There are millionaires here now... they work on the farm using well-worn Land Rovers to get around but go into the bigger towns driving their Mercedes saloons."
Incidentally, in Malaysia the highest number of Land Rovers - old and new, registered or unregistered with the Road Transport Department – are found in the Cameron Highlands.
And what about the legendary Jim Thompson, who disappeared while walking along one of the highlands' many trails in 1967? "Many theories... don't know which one to believe," Kali says, shaking his head.
Thompson was an American businessman who helped revitalised Thailand's silk and textile industry in the 1950s and 1960s. Originally an architect, he became a US Army volunteer in World War II. He was posted to Bangkok as a US military intelligence officer attached to the Office of Strategic Services (the precursor to the Central Intelligence Agency or CIA).
After leaving the service, he returned to Bangkok to live.
"Some said the CIA killed him because he was their operative and he wanted out but knew too much. Others said he disappeared because he simply wanted to get out of the CIA."
But Kali pointed out that the area near Moonlight Cottage where Thompson had stayed when he disappeared is famous for peat soil.
"I think he might have fallen into a hole and no one could find him... you wouldn't want to be trekking there at night," he says.
Our initial assignment was to pursue the story about Cameron Highlands' actual founder but Kali, who has lived in the vicinity all his life (with the exception of two years in Petaling Jaya), sprang a surprise.
He introduced us to the highlands' best-kept secret - the "fairy jungle" - which is home to some of the world's rarest and most precious plants.
He drove us up - in a Land Rover, naturally - to the telecommunications tower atop Gunung Brinchang, the highlands' highest point. The fairy jungle is about 10 minutes' walk from the road.
And what a fairyland it is! I found myself looking out for Legolas as it was a scene straight out of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.
The forest was the location for the yet-to-be-released local epic, Puteri Gunung Ledang, I found out later.
Kali doesn't take very many people to his "secret" place. "We don't want just anybody to come here," he says. A concession had obviously been made for the local film crew.
Mossy forests abound at an elevation of 1,700m and above where the air is cool and damp. Gunung Brinchang reaches 2,032m.
We crawled through an intriguing "cave" carpeted with beautiful green moss while those hanging from the trees form natural arches. Kali helpfully identified the various species of plants, rare orchids, pitcher plants, wild ginger and lush ferns.
He picks a leaf, crushes it and beckons that I do the same. "Smell it and guess what it is," he says. I whiffed and it reminded me of a potion in the bathroom back home.
"Tea tree?" I ask.
"There you go. We have tea tree plants here."
He picks up a flower, tells us to bite its tip, then run our tongue over the teeth. I hesitantly did as told (but only after photographer May had done so) and my tongue instantly feels numb.
"The Orang Asli use the flower as an anaesthetic, especially for toothache," Kali explains. "Don't worry. It'll wear off," he says, assuringly.
"How do you think people survive in the jungle? Each plant in the jungle has its use," he adds.
The Orang Asli, for example, "will put rice in the pitcher plant and cook. The water in the pitcher, the unopened ones before the insects are trapped in it, is also drinkable."
As we venture further into the jungle, the temperature dips. "Stand here," Kali calls out under an arch formed by the mosses. "Feel it. Natural air-conditioning, yes?" Can't argue with him there.
He picks up a handful of moss from the ground and squeezes the water out. "They can hold water up to three times their weight. If you're lost in a mossy jungle, you now know where to get fresh water."
Our shoes (no hiking boots, these, as we went there unprepared) are wet from treading on the spongy soil. What intrigues us the most are the liverwort that look like soft corals.
"This part of the mountain was underwater millions of years ago," Kali offers an explanation.
Walking out of the jungle after spending close to half a day traipsing through the natural wonders, I can say that I will never think of Cameron Highlands in the same way again.
Yes, many tourists may come here just for the cool air, and cheap fresh flowers, fruits, and vegetables, but there are hidden treasures lying behind the trees lining the road to the top.