jungle time with the penan.
long lellang.
flight: punctual. guide abai and the porter: punctual. i like them. off we go.
- 'so when will we take the boat to get to your village?'
- guide: 'which boat?'
i'm irritated.
- 'THE boat?! according to the agency it's 3 hours boat and hiking up and down the hills...'
- guide: 'yes, it's up and down the hills. one and a half days. no boat. i told them several times: from this airport it's a long hike'
this is the moment when i'm glad i asked for a porter. carrying 25 kg through the jungle isn't fun.
long main.
interesting discussion with a local penan woman. seldom have i met a person who knows what makes her happy and lives accordingly.
- 'i'm poor, but all i need is this simple house, a fireplace to cook and a bed, and the jungle. i've lived in the city but it's not what i need. once a while sell my herbs in the city but after a few days i need to go in the forest again. even the kids who study in the cities are still returning - they are fine as long as they can access whatsapp here...'
... the penan might be traditional, unusually in touch with nature, and truly living off the beaten track. but they're surely not lacking smartness.
speaking of traditions: nowadays they don't live a nomadic life anymore as the government once decided to set up settlements for them (some may call it a friendly offer to provide better education and health service, some may call it force to make sure they don't interfere with the logging business. i heard both opinions). but the people found a way to deal with it: additionally to the villages they have simple huts in the forests. i mean deep in the forest...
long kepang.
dinner. first experience of the fantastic jungle food. deer and midin fern (in case you want to know: stenochlaena palustris). how does it taste? deer tastes like deer and the fern tastes like green asparagus. the more you eat the better it tastes... dessert is a basket of wild rambutan.
i think i'll have fun in the wood... so borneo is another aspect that makes malaysia the best and most versatile culinary spot in asia.
to long sait: 8 hours with foreigner, 4 hours if you're a local.
summary: all the time up and down the hills, zero orientation, once a while crossing small rivers, sometimes leech-control-and-kill-stops (amount of buggers in my shoes or pants: 20. amount having a real feast drinking my precious blood: 1. amount of killed little bastards: 20. i won), bearable heat, very few mosquitos, no rain, almost no animals, noisy insects, mostly dry ground, me always walking purposely slow and paying extra attention not to stumble over roots or loose rocks (torn ligament or broken leg in the jungle: no good). the porter working hard carrying 20 kg, me looking like a wet-t-shirt-contest runner-up with some kg of photo stuff in my backpack, and the guide doing a good job while having a fun day.
first little river, knee-high water:
- 'take off shoes?'
abai just smiles
- 'many rivers?'
abai just smiles
- 'i see. many like many, many. time to use proper jungle shoes?'
abai nods.
the extra fancy famous 5$ rubber football shoes (called 'kampong adidas' = 'village adidas') appear on the scene. to give them credit: they're very good for crossing rivers and walking in the mud (plus: it's very easy to find leeches in white shoes). there's a reason why the locals use them.
post-river-crossing-experience: for a few minutes the sound of the jungle is enhanced by a rhythmic 'squeak, squeak, squeak', the water in the shoes is refreshing, sooner or later the shoes are dry again, it's utterly relaxing not to have to worry about cleaning shoes.
otherwise the path is not too hard, only a few spots where the guide has to cut a passage through the vegetation with the machete, once a while i need professional assistance when i have to balance over slippery trunks crossing rivers. lets face it: i'm not the greatest equilibrist under the sun, especially 3 meters above the ground with the photo equipment on my back.
long sait.
abai's home. as picture-perfect as the ones i've seen so far. little wooden houses built on stilts, river, suspension bridge, little gardens, school. clean.
wandering around in the village, meeting a woman on her way into the forest to get fire wood.
- 'morning'
- 'guten morgen'
- ???
-'guten morgen'
- 'i thought i hear german. which is very irritating in the middle of nowhere...'
turns out she speaks some german with a pretty good pronunciation just from meeting some tourists. last time 3 years ago. ...the next time i meet her she has a pen and her vocabulary book ready.
abai's catching fish in the river with the net, pretty good throwing technique i have to say. lunch is fried fish and fish soup. quality: yay!
take a look at the school: several buildings, all clean and tidy, hedges and fences, football ground with perfectly cut lawn. watch their physical education class in the heat of the afternoon: all ages together, some do gymnastics, most of them run laps. some of the girls are quite fast and have real stamina - the boys are more focussed on making nonsense. hilarious to watch: every time a boy tries to outpace one of the girls they just increase the speed.
taking pictures at the river. a family arrives. standard setup: dad, mum, baby, grandma. and a pig. picture this: grandma is batching the child. expected. mum is catching fish. normal emancipation. dad is bathing the pig. must be a jungle people thing.
and in the evening my german student shows up again at abai's place:
- 'teach me more german words!'...
very well. now she has loads of new words to remember for body parts, furnishing, and food. basically everything that i could point at in the room. from leg to head to chair to window to plate to fish soup. i wonder with what strange phrase she will welcome the next german traveller!
long kerong.
day trip to the neighbouring village: areas that are prepared for cultivation (cutting trees, burning gras and bushes in the summer time...), some storage buildings, more river crossings.
having a chat with a couple in the village about the relations between different jungle tribes. some got and get along well (e.g. penan and kelabit), with others there's still serious tensions originating from war and headhunting times. on the wall in their house: pictures of kids at some school or university graduation ceremony. just like the woman in long main explained: the kids move out of the jungle to get a better education.
meet the headman of the village. lots of handshaking.
- 'have a coffee!'.
so the veranda of the 9-family-longhouse is turned into a café.
the pictures on the wall show the development of the village since 1950: from very simple open huts with leaf roof to huts with wooden roofs to bigger wooden houses to wooden houses with metal roofs.
return to long sait with perfect timing: enter the house, close the door, heavy rain shower.
from long sait to long situ
boat ride to long situ, hoping to catch a car to bario. abai in the front steering us perfectly through the rocks, the guy in the back bailing water out of the boat with a plate, and me sitting in the middle enjoying the nature.
long situ
place of the biggest rip-off of my life.
a collection of buildings and a tiny shop in the middle of nowhere at a dirt road that connects the coastal city miri with the highland town bario.
take a chair from a shop and sit down at the road to flag down passing cars. once a while a logging truck passes (to quote shakespeare: much dust about nothing).
1st car after 1 hour.
- 'can you give me a lift to bario?'
- 'sorry, bridge to bario is broken. not possible to go to bario'
... what follows in the next 30 minutes is a discussion about transfer options, extortionate prices, and modern robbery. it's clearly not a buyers market. if i don't buy i'm stuck. single option: going back to miri (200$, 1 day), taking a flight to bario (theoretically every other 2 days)... my mood: bottom.
1 hour later: another car. they never heard of a broken bridge. 1 seat available. special price: 170$. room for negotiation: zero.
just to explain the amount of money: a porter needs to work 10 days to get the equivalent for this 5 hour drive.
...that 'bridge is broken' story. the more i think about it the more i believe it was their asian way of telling me 'no, we don't have space for you'. if i image i would have returned to miri, wasting half a week and another fortune only because of this false information. sometimes this strange asian politeness-loss-of-face-thing drives me nuts.
flight: punctual. guide abai and the porter: punctual. i like them. off we go.
- 'so when will we take the boat to get to your village?'
- guide: 'which boat?'
i'm irritated.
- 'THE boat?! according to the agency it's 3 hours boat and hiking up and down the hills...'
- guide: 'yes, it's up and down the hills. one and a half days. no boat. i told them several times: from this airport it's a long hike'
this is the moment when i'm glad i asked for a porter. carrying 25 kg through the jungle isn't fun.
long main.
interesting discussion with a local penan woman. seldom have i met a person who knows what makes her happy and lives accordingly.
- 'i'm poor, but all i need is this simple house, a fireplace to cook and a bed, and the jungle. i've lived in the city but it's not what i need. once a while sell my herbs in the city but after a few days i need to go in the forest again. even the kids who study in the cities are still returning - they are fine as long as they can access whatsapp here...'
... the penan might be traditional, unusually in touch with nature, and truly living off the beaten track. but they're surely not lacking smartness.
speaking of traditions: nowadays they don't live a nomadic life anymore as the government once decided to set up settlements for them (some may call it a friendly offer to provide better education and health service, some may call it force to make sure they don't interfere with the logging business. i heard both opinions). but the people found a way to deal with it: additionally to the villages they have simple huts in the forests. i mean deep in the forest...
long kepang.
dinner. first experience of the fantastic jungle food. deer and midin fern (in case you want to know: stenochlaena palustris). how does it taste? deer tastes like deer and the fern tastes like green asparagus. the more you eat the better it tastes... dessert is a basket of wild rambutan.
i think i'll have fun in the wood... so borneo is another aspect that makes malaysia the best and most versatile culinary spot in asia.
to long sait: 8 hours with foreigner, 4 hours if you're a local.
summary: all the time up and down the hills, zero orientation, once a while crossing small rivers, sometimes leech-control-and-kill-stops (amount of buggers in my shoes or pants: 20. amount having a real feast drinking my precious blood: 1. amount of killed little bastards: 20. i won), bearable heat, very few mosquitos, no rain, almost no animals, noisy insects, mostly dry ground, me always walking purposely slow and paying extra attention not to stumble over roots or loose rocks (torn ligament or broken leg in the jungle: no good). the porter working hard carrying 20 kg, me looking like a wet-t-shirt-contest runner-up with some kg of photo stuff in my backpack, and the guide doing a good job while having a fun day.
first little river, knee-high water:
- 'take off shoes?'
abai just smiles
- 'many rivers?'
abai just smiles
- 'i see. many like many, many. time to use proper jungle shoes?'
abai nods.
the extra fancy famous 5$ rubber football shoes (called 'kampong adidas' = 'village adidas') appear on the scene. to give them credit: they're very good for crossing rivers and walking in the mud (plus: it's very easy to find leeches in white shoes). there's a reason why the locals use them.
post-river-crossing-experience: for a few minutes the sound of the jungle is enhanced by a rhythmic 'squeak, squeak, squeak', the water in the shoes is refreshing, sooner or later the shoes are dry again, it's utterly relaxing not to have to worry about cleaning shoes.
otherwise the path is not too hard, only a few spots where the guide has to cut a passage through the vegetation with the machete, once a while i need professional assistance when i have to balance over slippery trunks crossing rivers. lets face it: i'm not the greatest equilibrist under the sun, especially 3 meters above the ground with the photo equipment on my back.
long sait.
abai's home. as picture-perfect as the ones i've seen so far. little wooden houses built on stilts, river, suspension bridge, little gardens, school. clean.
wandering around in the village, meeting a woman on her way into the forest to get fire wood.
- 'morning'
- 'guten morgen'
- ???
-'guten morgen'
- 'i thought i hear german. which is very irritating in the middle of nowhere...'
turns out she speaks some german with a pretty good pronunciation just from meeting some tourists. last time 3 years ago. ...the next time i meet her she has a pen and her vocabulary book ready.
abai's catching fish in the river with the net, pretty good throwing technique i have to say. lunch is fried fish and fish soup. quality: yay!
take a look at the school: several buildings, all clean and tidy, hedges and fences, football ground with perfectly cut lawn. watch their physical education class in the heat of the afternoon: all ages together, some do gymnastics, most of them run laps. some of the girls are quite fast and have real stamina - the boys are more focussed on making nonsense. hilarious to watch: every time a boy tries to outpace one of the girls they just increase the speed.
taking pictures at the river. a family arrives. standard setup: dad, mum, baby, grandma. and a pig. picture this: grandma is batching the child. expected. mum is catching fish. normal emancipation. dad is bathing the pig. must be a jungle people thing.
and in the evening my german student shows up again at abai's place:
- 'teach me more german words!'...
very well. now she has loads of new words to remember for body parts, furnishing, and food. basically everything that i could point at in the room. from leg to head to chair to window to plate to fish soup. i wonder with what strange phrase she will welcome the next german traveller!
long kerong.
day trip to the neighbouring village: areas that are prepared for cultivation (cutting trees, burning gras and bushes in the summer time...), some storage buildings, more river crossings.
having a chat with a couple in the village about the relations between different jungle tribes. some got and get along well (e.g. penan and kelabit), with others there's still serious tensions originating from war and headhunting times. on the wall in their house: pictures of kids at some school or university graduation ceremony. just like the woman in long main explained: the kids move out of the jungle to get a better education.
meet the headman of the village. lots of handshaking.
- 'have a coffee!'.
so the veranda of the 9-family-longhouse is turned into a café.
the pictures on the wall show the development of the village since 1950: from very simple open huts with leaf roof to huts with wooden roofs to bigger wooden houses to wooden houses with metal roofs.
return to long sait with perfect timing: enter the house, close the door, heavy rain shower.
from long sait to long situ
boat ride to long situ, hoping to catch a car to bario. abai in the front steering us perfectly through the rocks, the guy in the back bailing water out of the boat with a plate, and me sitting in the middle enjoying the nature.
long situ
place of the biggest rip-off of my life.
a collection of buildings and a tiny shop in the middle of nowhere at a dirt road that connects the coastal city miri with the highland town bario.
take a chair from a shop and sit down at the road to flag down passing cars. once a while a logging truck passes (to quote shakespeare: much dust about nothing).
1st car after 1 hour.
- 'can you give me a lift to bario?'
- 'sorry, bridge to bario is broken. not possible to go to bario'
... what follows in the next 30 minutes is a discussion about transfer options, extortionate prices, and modern robbery. it's clearly not a buyers market. if i don't buy i'm stuck. single option: going back to miri (200$, 1 day), taking a flight to bario (theoretically every other 2 days)... my mood: bottom.
1 hour later: another car. they never heard of a broken bridge. 1 seat available. special price: 170$. room for negotiation: zero.
just to explain the amount of money: a porter needs to work 10 days to get the equivalent for this 5 hour drive.
...that 'bridge is broken' story. the more i think about it the more i believe it was their asian way of telling me 'no, we don't have space for you'. if i image i would have returned to miri, wasting half a week and another fortune only because of this false information. sometimes this strange asian politeness-loss-of-face-thing drives me nuts.