So after a lot of negotiating last night, this morning saw just the two of us boarding, rather inelegantly, a very small, very rickety bright yellow longboat to go an hour upriver to see an ordinary longhouse, the Ng Delok, one that was not gussied up at all. The boat was very low in the water, but luckily the weather was on our side and the trip up the river was stunning.
On and on we went, no one else in sight, twisting and turning around the bends in the river. We certainly got what we wanted.
This place was built into the hill, looked like it was falling down, and yes, there were chickens everywhere. We manage to get out of the boat without falling into the mud and scramble up the slope. There were only fourteen families living here, relatively small, but half of the original community decided to resettle below the dam when the valley was flooded in '85. The children all have to board during the week as they have to go to school, a lot of the people were out doing their bit growing their veg and hill paddy rice. Dogs were everywhere, weeing at will. But the few people who were around gave us a rather laconic look and carried on with whatever they were doing. One man was mending his fishing net, a very elderly lady was sitting quietly on a mat looking after a child too young for school. Other young men just seemed to be sitting doing nothing. Some people had just got up and were still wandering about in their pyjama bottoms.
The Chief however was up and dressed and there to meet and greet us. After handshakes all round, we were invited to sit on the mat and drink tea with him.
He was not dressed up in fancy dress, just his shorts and shirt. He had not one word of English - fair enough, Ant and my Iban is a bit rusty too. At one point he gets up and very proudly brings out his dog eared visitors book for us to sign, we were only the third people to visit over the last month. We give our gifts, something you are supposed to do. We had taken advice from the driver yesterday and had bought a huge pack of 40 bags of pea snacks, some exercise books and pencils. Old chiefy didn't look too impressed, we think he may have preferred a bottle of whisky..... but he did thank us graciously with a rather regal nod of the head. Then we are presented with our bill. About a fiver split between "Chief Tax" and "Head Tax". We were especialy concerned about the head tax as the Iban are historically big headhunters..... It was explained that this tax is basically the only cash they get their hands on to buy things like sugar that they cannot produce themselves, and it is divided between all the families. The £20 or so they have earned in the last month won't buy much.
And the chief had no idea of maths. We didn't have the right money and there was no way he could work it all out, but we got there in the end. It is election time here in Sarawak, and the chief had to leave us as he had an appointment with the Education Minister at the local area primary school just across the river. So we were then free to wander around as we wished. Just off the long open area are the individual family spaces. Imagine a street of wooden houses sharing a roof and opening onto a covered in street designed for communal living all 20ft off the ground. We couldn't go in the private house areas but managed to peer into a few to see old 50's style sofas, pots and pans and small dark wood cupboards. We looked at the ragtag posters everywhere, from health advice about Dengue fever, the rota for cleani gbthe communal areas, the Liverpool football club pictures and the Christian icons of Jesus and Mary - the missionaries did a good job here..... The whole place is dark with an odd strip light, powered by a generator that is only used sparingly for festivals. This place is so isolated, five hours of road and one and a half hours of river travel from the nearest city and no mod cons at all. Water collected from the waterfall, oil lamps......
It was hard to believe we were in the 21st century. And not even a mobile phone signal, that shows exactly how isolated it is!
But time to move on from all this gracious hospitality. And we slide back down the muddy steps to our longboat to find an out of the way waterfall that has no path to it. It was small, perfectly formed and worth the slippery scramble up and down rocks and mud. It was a fairy glen, quite magical, until of course the fairy went swimming, please see picture! And then another magical river trip back to our "civilised" longhouse. The water was so still it was like a mirror, with perfect reflections of the sky
It was a really magical day.
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