WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE
AN ADVENTURE THROUGH, ABOVE AND BELOW BORNEO WORDS AND IMAGES: Abbas Nazari LOCATION: Borneo
We wanted our mid-semester break to be a culturally rich and local oriented week, far from the tourist traps of Southeast Asia that the majority of our peers were flying to. Our adventure began in Kuching, at the southern tip of Sarawak. We had not planned anything but had one common goal; to experience the local culture and see the world through the eyes of the people. INITIALLY, WE THOUGHT that bus rides between towns would be the best way to achieve our goal, but realising that the bus rides would miss the small villages and local spots, we decided on renting a car. With no Hertz or Avis in sight we managed to find a small dealership, which was more than happy to help. A tiny seven-seater minivan just managed to fit six of us plus our packs. We were on the road. With the initial excitement of the road trip over, we were suddenly confronted with the lack of any real plan. Lost, tired and internetless, we agreed to take the next turn off the main road just to see where it would take us. It turned out to be the best decision of the whole trip and sent us on an adventure of a lifetime. The dirt road led to a patch of jungle overlooking a placid brown river with a wire bridge straddling the banks. Intrigued, we pulled over and walked nervously across the bridge one at a time. Looking down off the bridge, we could see the remnants of a previous bridge that had clearly reached its expiry date running parallel to this one. Once on the other side, we were awestruck by the sight of a longhouse. Built on stilts and running adjacent to the trees like one giant centipede, this longhouse was over 200 metres in length. After a difficult conversation involving broken English,
we were welcomed inside for a tour. A longhouse is an extravagant structure compromising multiple homes sharing a common walkway and living area, with individual rooms and kitchens. This one had 34 homes, all housing one extended family network. We were treated to the art of tikkai (mat) making, as well as langkau (rice) and tuwa (wine). We spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the kids, sharing photos of our travels and exploring the surrounding area. The locals laughed when I asked if there was a swimming spot nearby. I found out later that the rivers are home to crocodiles and are known as the ‘king’ of this area. With evening setting in, we were left with the obstacle of finding a place to stay for the night. The locals directed us back to the highway and told us to stop at the next town, where we found an inn that charged a mere eight dollars a night. After checking in, we went downstairs to enjoy Mongolian style chicken rice and reflect on the day. We were soon joined by the locals, who were intrigued by half a dozen foreigners who had arrived for dinner, packs and all. We were clearly off the tourist track. Despite this, the same warm hospitality ensued and we found ourselves sharing an amazing meal and singing karaoke at the only pub in
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town. The locals understood what we were looking for and planned our whole itinerary for the next day. It was wild! We woke up early, eager for what lay ahead. After some noodle soup to fill the belly, we were off. Part one of our locally constructed tour was to see the local chieftain who spoke fluent English, in his longhouse. He gave us a rundown of the history and society of Sarawak and its plethora of people and cultures. The chieftain, a soft-spoken man, oversees the affairs of some 6,000 locals spread across dozens of longhouses. He took us into his own home, one of several, and treated us to more langkau as well as sugar cane, coconuts and a variety of fruits we had never tasted before. After lunch, we trekked deep into the jungle to a cockfighting ring. We were told this was technically illegal, but with authority so far away from the villages, the local men found this to be the best form of entertainment. We couldn’t stomach any more fights after witnessing the savagery of the first and left to visit a honey farm. I expected to be given a beekeeper suit, but was pleasantly surprised to find there weren’t bees here, but rather a type of fruit fly. With straws, we sucked the sweet nectar from the hives. It was a fitting way to end a sweet day. Trusting us with their Hiluxes, we