Go Malaysia:Blowpipe hunters, orang-utans, British colonial relics and the highest twin skyscrapers in the world: Malaysia is a fascinating mixture of influences and cultures, writes Manchán Magan
I WANT TO start with the blowpipe hunter who appeared out of the jungle as I was having my afternoon stroll, although I know I should introduce Malaysia first – describe this multiracial, multicultural, multi-religious country; the mix of Malay, Chinese, Indian, Buddhist and Muslim influences that make it unique. It’s just that I can’t get this man out of my head: the hardwood blow-pipe balancing on his bony shoulder; the stoicism and contentment in his laser-bright eyes.
At least I should explain where Malaysia is. It’s in two different places actually, half on a peninsula between Thailand and Singapore, and the other half across the South China Sea on the island of Borneo (which it shares with Indonesia and Brunei).
What astounded me most about the hunter was that I wasn’t even anywhere very remote at the time, just loitering at the edge of a village after a post-prandial walk, when he appeared from the trees in a pair of ragged trousers with a sheaf of poison-darts across his bare chest. He was muddy-faced and nurturing a few blood-engorged leeches on his shins. Although I’ve spent a decade following remote tribes and minority cultures, I’ve never come across a tribal hunter accidentally before, within metres of farmyards and a Catholic church.
It rather sums up Malaysia; certainly, better than I will be able to do in a single article. How can one convey an eight-day trip which went from the glitzy designer malls of Kuala Lumpur to monkey-spotting on jungle rivers, to visits to a tribal longhouse in Northern Borneo and waterfront meals in British colonial relics in Sarawak?
I’ll start with orang-utans because you can’t mention Malaysia without referring to these original Wild Men of Borneo. The Semenggoh Nature Reserve is on the outskirts of Sarawak’s capital city, Kuching. (Malaysian Borneo is divided into two states, Sarawak and Sabah – both rich in wildlife and rainforest.) It is one of a number of orang-utan rehabilitation centres in Borneo. I feared it would be little more than a zoo, but the head warden made it clear to the group of us who turned up for the 9am feeding time that the reserve was vast and completely open, with the apes free to leave at any time – although the presence of food means they rarely do. Its aim is to prepare orphaned or injured orang-utans for reintroduction to the wild. He warned us that his staff could not control the apes and that laughing or crying at the wrong time could trigger an attack. This was backed up by photos of gruesome wounds inflicted on past visitors. As he talked, a few shaggy, 100kg orange-brown orang-utans began approaching us high overhead, swinging dozily through the trees towards the feeding platform. One young male began to pee down on top of us from a mango tree, but in his defence he was a rescued orphan whose mother had been killed by a member of our species.
As is always said, the most startling thing about them was the complexity of their emotional expression, shifting from sardonic disregard, to forlorn meditation to playful aggression, all while hanging upside-down scratching themselves with bushy fingers. It’s no wonder they sparked Darwin’s first suspicions of evolution, or that Queen Victoria remarked that they were “painfully and disagreeably human” after having tea with one. The apes at the centre all had histories worthy of soap opera – orphaned on falling from a logged tree while clinging to their mothers who cushioned the fall; adopted by childless couples and reared as human babies; kept as pets by lonely plantation workers.
The lushness of the jungle and the wealth of tribal culture in Borneo make for paradise or purgatory, depending on one’s perspective. For the hordes of moneyed Iranians, Indians and Chinese who descend upon Malaysia in ever increasing numbers it is definitely the latter. They steer well clear of Borneo, focusing instead on the gaudy designer retail palaces of Kuala Lumpur, one of a new breed of glitzy, skyscrapered Asian cities peopled with affluent Muslim teens in Gucci headscarves and their Ferrari-driving boyfriends. The sheer, ostentatious swagger of these malls, heaving with Swarovski, Burberry, Armani and Dunhill baubles, was as difficult to comprehend as the sight of the poison-dart hunter.
These cities are without doubt the new centres of the world – the playgrounds and market places of Asians, Middle Easterners and Russians. Kuala Lumpur has the obligatory architectural dildo in the form of the 88-storey Petronas Twin Towers – an extraordinarily elegant manifestation of the penile one-upmanship that has infected Asian cities. The sleek silver ribbons vaulting into the sky like minarets (or corncobs, depending on one’s humour), reveal so much about the aspirations and game-plans of Malaysia and its neighbours. They are baton-twirlers of a glorious new Asian era in which Europeans are mere bunting wavers. It is poignant, therefore, to walk around the old Colonial heart where the city first began as a collection of tin-prospectors’ shacks 150 years ago.
The mock-Tudor gentleman’s club, cricket pitch and Anglican cathedral look fragile and forlorn. They are as much relics of a quaint past as Malaysia’s famous longhouses, which are the most distinctive feature of tribal life in Borneo.
A longhouse is a communal building of bamboo, palm or timber in which dozens of families live side-by-side, in separate sleeping enclosures, sharing a common corridor for the daytime activities of weaving, bead-making, tool-carving, net-mending, food preparation, etc.
Longhouses are now found only in remote areas, mainly because the indoor cooking fires could, and frequently did, burn them down, leaving the entire community homeless. I visited one in the north of the state of Sabah in Borneo, which belonged to the Rungus tribe who have set up a cultural tourism programme in which visitors can sleep in the longhouse and sample forest treks, medicinal herb collecting, shrimp and sea-snake fishing, and hunting for wild boar and monkeys. The tribe also arrange dance and musical displays.
The lure of easy money from palm oil plantations and rice farming means the Rungus have largely abandoned their traditional way of life, except at tribal gatherings and for paying tourists. Throughout Borneo the design of longhouses varies widely – my favourite being the ones of the Murut tribe which feature an internal wooden trampoline called a lansaran which is used for sport, ceremonial rites and wooing rituals.
My few days in Sabah ended with a sunset trip on the Klias River where I was surrounded by proboscis monkeys, silver-leaf langurs, monitor lizards, flying foxes, crocodiles and a spectacular display of fireflies that lit up the forest trees like Christmas trees.
From there, I flew to the Kelabit highlands in the state of Sarawak for the absolute highlight of the trip – two days hiking in Bario, a frontier trading-post in the remote eastern highlands which had no road-access until a logging track was cut through last year. It was here I came across the dart blower, but the flight up into the mountains was almost as thrilling: on a 16-seater plane flying low over the knotted jungle and serpentine chocolate rivers, the lush tree-tops of Mulu National Park and the Murud Peaks and isolated longhouses of hunter tribes.
Bario was a revelation, a ramshackle collection of cabins and longhouses amidst paddy fields in a valley surrounded by endless stretches of upland jungle. It’s one of the most enchanting places I’ve ever been. Its great benefit is that one gets to trek in virgin rainforest without having to endure the 98 per cent humidity and soaring temperatures of the lowlands. The altitude and lower temperatures also mean less predatory insects, although still far too many leeches.
For me, the other great benefit of the area is that because these forests are still inhabited by tribes one can arrange multi-day hikes from one tribal longhouse to another. The Kelabit tribes are genuinely welcoming to visitors and their diet of wild boar, venison and rare species of highland rice and pineapple make for the perfect cuisine.
Overall, Malaysia is an inspiration, a country in which, as VS Naipaul pointed out “the sun and steam do not speak of decay, of tropical lassitude” but of “vigour, of rich things growing fast, of money”. It has managed to shake off the racism of British colonial rule to create a strong, tolerant country of Chinese, Malay, Indian and indigenous cultures built on compromise and cooperation. For tourists, Borneo, with its extensive system of well-maintained national parks, dense rainforests and rare wildlife, is an ecological wonderland.
Malaysian cuisine is renowned for its multi-ethnicity: succulent satays with spicy-sweet peanut sauce, coconut-steamed rice served with ginger flower buds and a spectacular array of jungle fern vegetables. The best time to visit is during the dry season, from March to July; the wettest months are November to February, although in truth there are no seasons, just wet and wetter.
Where to stay and what to do
Get there
Malaysian Airlines (malaysiaairlines.com) flies from London Heathrow to Kuala Lumpur, and onwards to many destinations in Sarawak and Sabah on the island of Borneo. The low-budget, no-frills Air Asia (airasia.com) will also get you to Kuala Lumpur for cheap.
Where to stay
In Kuala Lumpur, the Ritz-Carlton (ritzcarlton. com) is as reliably decadent as one would expect.
In Kuching, the capital of the state of Sarawak, Borneo, there are the usual five-star hotels. The Riverside Majestic Hotel (rmh.my) by the waterfront is comfortable.
In the highland village of Bario there is only homestay accommodation or longhouses with all meals included; most offer bucket showers and no hot water. I recommend Nancy and Harris’ Homestay, a timber bungalow, with stunning views from the verandah and delicious food. E-mail: nancyharriss@yahoo.com or tel 00-60-19-8585850 or 00-60-19-8505850.
What to do
Ascend the Petronas Towers, Kuala Lumpur – one must queue for tickets from dawn to get to the rather disappointing 41-storey viewing platform. See petronastwintowers.com.my.
Visit the Orang-utan Rehabilitation Centre at Semenggoh Nature Reserve, Kuching, Sarawak, Borneo. forestry.sarawak.gov.my
The Sepilok Orang-utan Rehabilitation Centre in Sabah, Borneo is excellent. See sabahtourism.com. During the January fruiting season there is less chance of seeing orang-utans.
A tour/overnight stay in a longhouse of the Rungus tribe, including fishing, trekking, hunting is best organised by a tour company in Kota Kinabalu, (of Sabah’s state capital). Or contact the Rungus tribe directly. Tel: 00-60-88-614088, or 00-60-621971 or 00-60-88622524.
Manchán Magan travelled as a guest of Malaysia Tourism Board, Dublin and We travel 2/Topflight (wetravel2.com or tel 01-2401726). Flights were courtesy of Malaysia Airlines. For further information on Malaysia contact Malaysia Tourism Board, Level 3A Shelbourne House, Shelbourne Road, Dublin 4. Tel: 01-2376242/3, e-mail info@tourism-malaysiadublin.com or visit tourismmalaysia.gov.my.