A tourist’s perception

FOR many years, I enjoyed travelling in Sarawak, up-country in particular. I still do, given the opportunity.

The culture shock encountered, new acquaintances made, and changed circumstances, add another dimension to one’s world view.

My stint with the Ministry for Sarawak Affairs in the 1960s was one of the most enjoyable periods of my working life.

It was arduous and dangerous – mostly by muddy roads, fast flowing rivers, and occasionally by air. Many districts had been traversed, mainly areas in the Second and Third Divisions.

From Kuching to Sibu in a Dakota of the MSA (Malayan-Singapore Airline) took about an hour followed by a speed boat to Kapit for another four hours. By smaller boat up the various tributaries like Sut, Gat, Merirai, Baleh, and Mujong was full of fun especially having lunch on the kerangan (gravel bank); shooting up or down the Pelagus Rapids was not, but it was the only highway to get to Belaga and beyond.

Occasional helicopter rides, courtesy of the British Army, were a novelty and the only fast means of transport to Bario and the northern region.

The other form of transport was the standard ‘walkswagen’, on foot to be exact. Lots of it, especially in the Second Division.

Travelling by boat propelled by an outboard engine – familiar brands varied from ‘Sea Gull’, ‘Johnson’, ‘Mercury’, and ‘Suzuki’ — was most rewarding. One could spend hours and not feel bored if one was interested in the scenery along the river: the luxuriant jungle, tall tapang (bee trees), scented flowers of the ensurai trees — the fruit of which is the favourite dish of fish like semah and empurau — any amount of ferns, the nyemiding (midin) and palms including the edible pantu were there for free.

As they say, those were the good old days.

There is no doubt that there is a world of difference between travelling in the 1960s and 50 years later. Now it’s more comfortable and faster but much more expensive.

Nowadays, from Kuching to KL or Sibu or Bintulu or Miri and vice versa, one has the choice of planes. There are also express boats plying between Kuching and Sibu. Those days, there was no choice, either MSA planes or the chug-chug steamers like the ill-fated Pulau Kijang or Raja Wali.

The flights are on schedule most of the time; the occasional delays are normal. However, take waiting at the airport as part and parcel of the journey. Be philosophical about it all: the journey is more important than the destination.

Waiting has some compensation when you bump into friends whom you have not seen or heard about for years. For instance, the other day, while waiting for the aircraft to arrive from Kota Kinabalu, I bumped into Douglas Jerukan, a bodybuilder of fame at the Kuching Airport.

In the late 1950s, he had gone to Christchurch in New Zealand to study under the Colombo Plan scholarship along with other boys from Sarawak. Mention one Andrew Jalil, who opted to stay behind and became a Kiwi, and the rest of the names of that batch of Sarawakians studying overseas came flooding in — Mansor, Peter Mandi, Ralph Garai, and Tan Seng Yew.

We didn’t feel the boredom associated with flight delays. We were so engrossed in conversation, Jerukan family planning a trip to Christchurch come April, that we didn’t realise our aircraft had landed.

On an earlier trip, on the eve of the New Year, I was in the company of friends visiting the victims of longhouse fires at Entuat in the Katibas, a couple of hours from Song town by boat.

Apart from meeting old friends — some are doing well in life, others not so, and a few have joined their Maker — making new acquaintances is always interesting, adding to the list of phone numbers or emails.

However, while enjoying the scenery along the river, my heart sank when I saw plastic of all colours on the kerangan. The ensurai trees, whose fruits are the favourites of semah and empurau were there, some precariously hanging on to the bank, a few have fallen into the river. I was told by retired teacher Stephen Ayot that tasty fish were plenty at the time when he was a teacher at Nanga Bangkit. Now only once in a blue moon does one hear of an empurau being caught; that would be the talk of the town for days on end. The river is muddy because there was logging of timber at its source.

Detractions by the plastic on the kerangan were compounded by the awful sight of the remains of two longhouses on the steep bank of the Katibas. Were they the last to go to ashes for last year?

No. Within the same week, another fire gutted a longhouse in Pakan. My hope to take it easy and talk to the flowers was dashed. I felt obliged to flog the old horse (longhouse fires) and their devastating effect on the economy of the longhouse community.

A whole community becomes poor overnight after a fire. Valuable antiques are lost forever, gongs and even shotguns inherited from grandpa have turned to ashes within minutes, the newest outboard engines have gone in smoke.

The regularity of fires is frightening. Last year alone, nine longhouses went up in flames (reported).

In the case of the fire at Entuat, people came to help: the MP for the area Datuk Alexander Nanta Linggi came and helped; church people (Methodists) lent a hand and our group consisting of YB Dominique Ng and former Sibu Municipal Councillor Munan Laja chipped in what little we had by way of clothing and food but it was no compensation for the terrible losses suffered by the fire victims.

Of this subject, my position has not changed: while the present longhouses can stay, don’t build new ones according to the existing architecture. Single houses are better. If one burns down, only one family suffers the loss of property. When one longhouse burns down, the whole community of so many families there suffer. I am saying this in all sincerity and honesty.

No smoking in the longhouse

An interesting habit has developed since 2001 in many longhouses in the Kapit district: the ban on cigarette smoking inside the longhouse. I remember it was Dr Lee of Kapit Hospital who initiated this ban. I am happy to learn that the rule has been enforced in many longhouses since its introduction.

Readers who are bored and stressed by the above may skip this part; it’s about fish.

Vanishing fish

Already in Kapit the empurau and semah dealers were complaining about poor catches of these two species from the Rajang and its tributaries and their inability to cope with the demand from their regular clients among whom are the rich and famous in Kuching, Sibu, Miri and KL.

A white empurau can fetch an astronomical price from RM550 per kg; ordinary mortals simply cannot afford to buy such a delicacy any more. Go and catch them yourself.

Less fish landings since October last year were attributed to the dry season and the impoundment of the Bakun hydroelectric dam, compounded by the great logjam — result of the gods’ anger on the Baleh, one of the main sources of the fish.

Poisoned prawns

After the exhausting trip, I was hoping all would be well in Kuching. No sooner had my voice been restored after a bad sore throat, the result of tuak of various vintages, when more depressing news came. Fish, crabs and prawns from the Sarawak River and streams were coliform bacteria-infested.

When crustacean and fish freaks (me included) read about this danger to their health, they squealed at the conflicting statements from the environmental experts. Statements negating one another — the environmental quality report of 2008 and the opinion of the man at the barrage — had confused them. Bad news.

Meantime, eat canned seafood lah. Try ambal (bamboo shellfish) from Buntal.

The good news, however, is the sewerage system now being constructed under certain parts of Kuching City. Soon all the muck from this side of the river and streams will be channelled to some treatment plant somewhere. We are assured that by the time the germs reach the streams, they would be rendered more or less harmless.

That project, long over due, is an investment worth the expenditure in the long run. Even the the Schumachers of Kuching do not mind some inconvenience caused by the digging, drilling and excavating, which make driving slow.

Passing thought

Back in the city, given the billions of ringgit extracted from the forests surrounding those longhouses recently visited, this tourist (me), without the benefit of reliable data, cannot help feeling that more could have been done by way of economic activities like agriculture, health facilities, and better roads in addition to the schools.

This tourist was a stressed one when he saw environmental degradation along the mighty Rajang and several of its tributaries.