AT Wisma Sime Darby in Kuala Lumpur, Dr Ho Chai Yee, the development director, was leaving on promotion to lead the research department.
He had worked in rubber research for many years before joining Sime Darby. He was a scientist – tall, white-haired, soft-spoken, deeply thoughtful – who had a serious outlook, and wrote a lot of notes.
I did not know what to expect when I met him on the 11th floor for the handing-over: “We have a target each year. We make our profits through consultancy services for owners of plantations and mills. The main work is in Indonesia.”
In 1990, most of the plantations were owned by the government, and it was vital to keep up with changes in the plantations and mills. To fund these changes, loans were secured, which came mainly from the World Bank, as independent consultants were needed to guide the staff.
In the private sector, the timber industry’s peak days were over and loggers were looking to plant oil palm. Most had no experience, and there was no better way than to call the planters and consultants from Malaysia.
“We fly to Medan, and start with the government-owned plantations in North Sumatra, and have discussions with our mill consultant there.”
The journey was going to take up most of the month because Dr Ho had managed to get many projects.
I hid my excitement as I had always wanted to travel in Indonesia. It turned out to be as pleasant as I had thought. The only problem was the disagreement I had with Dr Ho after we got back.
During the trip, Dr Ho and I got along well, and it was just luck that the chemistry was right. For many long days, we had an easy way of working. We travelled in a van and because of the distance, I had plenty of time to watch the scenery of rice fields and green mountains, just as I had imagined.
I listened to Indonesian melodies on the cassette tape, and the van had bottles of Aqua mineral water.
Dr Ho had made the arrangements with precision, including on timing, for we would stop at places he knew would serve delicious nasi padang, and he would have his beef rendang, and tendons or kikir cooked in coconut milk.
The government-owned plantation near Permatang Siantar, PTP Seven was big. The main buildings were grand structures, built by the Dutch.
When we called on the head of the plantation, Dr Ho took a lot of notes while I looked around at the teak furniture and the paintings on the wall. A staff stooped low as he served coffee.
Later, we met with our consultant Eric Cruickshank, whom I had worked with in Pamol, Kluang. I recalled he was an efficient engineer, and the mills in the group ran smoothly. The extraction rates were high. At five, he would stop work and go golfing at the Kluang Golf Club.
Now here he was, out of retirement in Scotland, and living on the estate with his wife Edith. He showed us what he had done to train the team and kept records to follow the new standardised system.
In the laboratory, after Dr Ho saw all the figures he was looking for, we stopped promptly at five. Dr Ho and Eric headed for the golf course that had a wide fairway, with freshly cut grass.
It turned out that Dr Ho was also mad about golf, and he too knew how to relax. I stayed back in the big guest house, reading a book. The job suited me well.
In Jakarta, I again saw Dr Ho’s passion for organising. The Hotel Sari Pacific on Jalan MH Thamrin was among the best, and I admired the intricate wood carvings of fishermen placed by the lifts. The rooms were perfect.
In the morning, we were in the restaurant early for a big breakfast of rijsttafel, which was rice with a selection of delicacies, such as satay and spiced curry.
Then, we were out again, allowing plenty of time for traffic jams, to meet with government officials. They coordinated the development of plantations and mills. Only one or two meetings could be held each day because big teams would be assembled to discuss the work progress.
I jotted down one or two points while Dr Ho made a lot of notes. Sometimes, packets of nasi padang would arrive for lunch while discussions went on. The last part was a meeting with the World Bank to report on our work and see if there were new projects.
In the private sector, the clients were in transition from logging to plantations. One elderly owner worked in an old part of Jakarta, where I found the office past clusters of small red-roofed huts.
The tycoon said the address had brought him luck. Another client had moved into a spanking new high structure, with windows of blue glass. The skyline of Jakarta was changing.
The routine was the same except the meetings would be with the owner and his sons and their accountant, all taking notes nearly as much as Dr Ho. Then we would be invited to dinner at expensive restaurants with Sundanese cuisine while the sons would pump us with questions about managing plantations.
We also travelled to meet clients in Bandung, Surabaya and Kalimantan.
When we got back to Kuala Lumpur, Dr Ho had just enough time for me to thank him for the organised visit. I had enjoyed the trip.
He was going to his new job.
“It’s all yours now. By the way, you need to write a full report to give to our boss, in the usual manner.”
He caught me by surprise.
“I cannot recall the details or the names of most of the officials we met. You were taking notes. I didn’t write them down.”
“I noticed,” he said. “I thought you had kept it all in your head.”
As he walked away hiding a smile, I panicked. How could he be so cruel?
To this day, I haven’t forgiven him.
The writer has extensive experience in the management of oil palm plantations. Comments: letters@thesundaily.com
