Fact: none are as cute as orangutans (and that includes kids, once they pass the age of ten.) Orangutans are so adorable that it's worth a visit to Borneo to see them alone and that's exactly what we did.
Sarawak, in the Malaysian part of Borneo, is home to orangutans, tropical rainforest, rivers, mountains and the spectacular Bako National Park. Our knowledge of orangutans was limited when we arrived here, the only thing we knew about them being that an ape who likes lemon pies is called a Meringue Utan and orangutans wear ape-rons when they cook (sorry! Couldn't help myself!) But we had to see them - now or never - because the deforestation rate in Malaysia is the highest in the world and these cuddly creatures are threatened with extinction for the sake of those pesky palm oil plantations. Sarawak is home to an orangutan rehabilitation centre and the capital hub of Kuching is where we based ourselves.
Sarawak is also home to the Iban: the hard-as-nails warrior tribe famous for enemy head hunting. Although their head hunts have drastically decreased in number in the modern age (note I didn't say they were at zero), there are several native homes which still have old skulls displayed in a cage in the guest rooms. Nice. We were thinking of doing a homestay at a traditional 'longhouse' but weren't overly enamoured with the touristy options offered to us; that is, until a girl at our hotel told us she could take us somewhere very authentic. All we had to do was go with her on a three hour drive until we reached "a place" where she'd leave us and we'd have to trek through dark forest to the home of a very old lady who'd "happily take care" of us. We would recognise her house from the skulls that still hung outside her door. She would show us "jungley things" and as long as we were polite we'd avoid being the recipients of her "incomparable black magic skills." Now, Imran and I might like 'real' experiences but we also quite like being alive and so we had to turn down the generous offer (although I'll be totally honest with you and say I was mighty tempted because I knew that if she didn't chop off our heads it'd probably be an awesome adventure.) But no, Imran wasn't quite ready to meet any headhunters, especially as he doesn't want to go back to work until at least September (boom boom!)
We spent a day at the orangutan rehab centre admiring the gorgeous apes. Super duper cute! They weren't just swinging through the trees but were occasionally walking very close to us - not as great as it sounds because tourists are meant to be silent when the orangutans approach and, as usual, that's just an expectation too high for many of them so the poor apes were quite frightened walking past these noisy, flashing people (flashing in the sense that they went crazy with their cameras, not in the 'exposing oneself' sense. Thankfully.) I'm not usually someone who goes gaga over animals but I really did want to cuddle these big teddies. I obviously had to settle for Imran instead but Benjy Button's hair growth isn't quite on a par.
Bako National Park was stunning. Magnificent, in fact. There were various trails of different lengths for visitors to hike with options to camp for a night at the Park for the long trekkers. We didn't have time to do this unfortunately so had to settle for just a day of jungle adventure; good job, it turned out, as Imran forgot to bring his trainers with him and was forced to climb in his flip-flops. He did fantastically well considering how awkward the trails were but we did have to do a couple less treks than we'd intended. They weren't so much physically exhausting as they were incredibly awkward; massive tree roots stuck out of the ground and were rock hard, making for highly uneven ground. Despite the blazing sun, the jungle was so dense that it felt almost dark. We had to make sure we didn't bang our heads into the many low-hanging tree branches - we didn't want any sense knocked into us. The destinations at the end of our expeditions were spectacular beach bays along which lapped the turquoise waves of the South China sea. Imposing rock formations stuck out of the water like dolphins leaping out of the surf. Beautiful, and well worth sweating pints to see.
Traditional homes in Sarawak are known as 'longhouses' because they're, well, long. Quite simple really, eh? The different tribes and ethnic groups all used to live in a compound with shared communal space and a private room for individual families. As more families joined, more new rooms were attached onto the end of the bamboo house and thus it became longer and longer. A lot of groups still live this way but many members of the younger generations aren't permanent dwellers due to their residency in the main towns and cities where they find contemporary work. Tourists can sleep at a longhouse and it sounded like a lot of fun: we would be taken into the jungle and shown how to forage for food, and then get to help with cooking the goodies back at the longhouse. I would've loved to cook rice in bamboo trunks in the old way. However, not only were we limited with time but we found out that the accommodation would be awful. We visited the longhouse of a Bidayah tribe and saw that although the shared living space is still fairly old-school, the private rooms have moved into the 21st century with televisions, fridges and a cooking hob. The tourist rooms, in comparison, were empty, dirty and without access to water or a decent loo. Why? Because this is what the tourists want. It's an entrepreneur's dream! The tourists want to stay in the worst accommodation possible because this is apparently more 'authentic' (even though the gadget-filled rooms ARE part of how the real natives live today) and pay bucket-loads for the privilege.. and I mean a lot! The organisers must think they're doolally. We thought they were doolally. Surely it wouldn't be a bad thing to have somewhere clean and comfortable to sleep - however basic - if the real experience lay in what happened outside of those doors? So our choice was that we could either pay lots to stay in rooms made purposely rubbish and lose one day of our time in Sarawak, but potentially have a great experience living with the locals, or we could explore Bako on one day and just go and visit a real longhouse on the other. Ultimately, there was just no way we were going to miss out on Bako. We could've dealt with the longhouse quite easily and it would have been fun to be in a Bidayah home - the men play drinking games all night, every night, where they talk for ten minutes and then down a round of shots and repeat the process, and lightweights just fall asleep where they sit - but trekking will always trump a homestay for us.
This meant we also had time to visit the Cultural Village where examples of all the different ethnic groups' houses were built and natives dressed in their traditional outfits. Those headhunting Ibans are also very skilled at having toned bums, it turns out. Did I just say toned bums? Of course, what I really meant was they're highly skilled in the art of blowing darts through a long wooden pole at their prey. Promise that's what I meant. Honestly. Imran had a go at the dart blowing and he was pretty good so I ain't gonna admit to looking at another man's tight ass.
We were both so glad we took the detour to Borneo. It wasn't originally on our list until I randomly decided that we'd be crazy not to stop off in Sarawak. It was interesting, fun and scenic. Additionally, of course, Malaysian food is scrumptious and we got a taster of what's to come when we hit the Western side of the country in mid-May. There'll be some belt-loosening going on there, I can tell you! Back in Borneo, though, we needed a break from the constant moving around and Indonesia's beaches awaited. Time to chill. Onwards!
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