Being Not At The Stupid Thing

While everyone else was at that stupid thing over in Damai for the fest, Jas and I hopped into kanid Kelvin's four wheeler and drove over to Danu, a small Bidayuh village about an hour or so from the city. Incidentally, it was going to be my first visit.

Jas figured, doing the fest for one day was enough while the other remaining two days of his short visit compensated by doing some real local stuff. He figured, there will be another fest again next year. And since whatever happened that Friday already looked all too familiar, nothing much will change next year. Jas was just as enthusiastic about the trip as I did knowing very well he was about to be baptized and initiated into the realm of langkau-ism.

And so very early on Saturday morning, we made the ritual stop over at our usual pork shop and got the obligatory pig face.

It was going to be a promising day.

We arrived at Danu and our entourage was greeted with the usual pomp I witnessed on a few other trips together with kanid Kelvin to some of the villages before this. We were lucky that day. The village was preparing for a feast and the men were busy cooking at one of the house where we were ushered into. And like in any Bidayuh villages, the hospitality one get is second to none. It wasn't lunch time yet and although we did not want to intrude into what they were doing, the men insisted that we sampled their food. And so food emerged from the kitchen. Simple food - rice wrapped in leaves, pork innards, chicken feet and jungle vegetables. And of course, to compliment these - the unassuming, unpretentious bottle of langkau was ceremoniously served.

Though all around the table were men of the most exquisite good manners, they were all close acquaintances, if not all actually relatives, and all had consumed their personal limit of langkau. The men had already started drinking earlier that morning.

Under these circumstances, the rules of social intercourse altered somewhat. We all could speak bluntly and there would be no lingering rancor about it. We also spoke of good tidings from the city while the villagers told of a good hunt the previous week. It was also frog season, the village elders said. And then the drinking started.

We were invited to the feast but we didn't want to intrude further into their private affairs and so we walked down to the river armed with the necessary beer and a bottle or two of langkau. We met kanid Kelvin relations by the river who arrived earlier and found they had already started a fire.

While we were busy passing the langkau around, Jas on the other hand, attempted to be cute which went terribly wrong as you can see.

Our pig face burnt slowly on the fire and still, we continued to drink.

I remember coming in and out of consciousness but in a nice, mellow way. I then decided to lie down on the kerangan and before I knew it I was dreaming of Hikaru Koto. She was sooo...beautiful. Nevermind.

It was already getting late and kanid Kelvin decided to pay his good friend Rog a courtesy visit. We walked among old rubber and cocoa trees to this newly constructed little house at the edge of the village. What surprised me most was that as we were walking pass village houses, choruses of loud generator sets filled the cold evening.

Oh, Danu folks doesn't have the luxury of electricity and so each house, if the owner can afford it, has a generator set. Which is funny because Danu is just an hour or so from the city and not 15 minutes down the gravel road, another village of similar size enjoys cable electricity. And I'm thinking, my democratic government must have missed this one.

Rog, who had just arrived from the feast was delighted he had our company and immediately instructed his beautiful wife to prepare the evening meal. Rog's house is a small one with a kitchen and an outdoor toilet. He prides himself saying that he built all of it on his own. There wasn't any bedrooms and he, wife and only daughter slept in the living room which also doubles as the dining room. No furniture was in sight and the only light was from a small fluorescent bulb fed to a battery cell. He has a plot of land next to his house and the jungle just beyond. Tells us his food comes from the land and river just outside his house.

He was excited, saying we were lucky because the previous night, he and his wife went down to the river and caught a few frogs and as luck would have it, he also caught a reasonably fat baby python. And that was dinner. The meat, as with all other meat, is salted to keep it good and dinner was of course very salty but it went down well with...more langkau.

And as we sat on the floor eating frogs and python, the drinking continued into the night with Rog and his wife. Kanid Kelvin made himself very comfortable at one corner and snored away. As the good spirit took the better of us, Jas professed his love for the village and the people. I swear it was the langkau kicking in and disrupting his neurotransmitter. Something symptomatic of a very intoxicated individual. If he had pen and paper then, he could have written a song.

We left just before midnight and as always, I can't help but feel emotionally and spiritually fulfilled. It isn't just the drinking but its the wholesome effect that I always get when in touch with the simplicity of life and how yet again I am reminded that I am of the village and of the jungle. Jas, on the other hand continued his emotional speech about loving everything about our state. And why shouldn't he? He'd been baptised. In fire.

This here is a Bidayuh longhouse in another village kanid Kelvin took us on Sunday morning. After much vomiting at my house the previous night which happens to be a ritualistic effect after consuming langkau, Jas was taken to task yet again. But he now realise what copious amount of langkau can do to a person.

I've been to Sadir with kanid Kelvin on a few occasion and have come to enjoy the company of the Bidayuh folks there. We arrived with our usual bags of goodies comprising bottles of langkau, pig face and beer. Met the usual village suspects and were later entertained to other village poison which I adamantly refused to consume. I can't remember what one of the village elders brought but it was suspiciously bottled in a Label 5 complete with its original packaging.

The village women took no notice of us, minding their own and getting on with their work on the common veranda.

And here's a funny guy who wants to be a Punjabi. Jas pulled that one on him. Its his way of getting back at us - wild, uncivilised folks.

We were not impressed.

But I honestly hope that after two days of solid drinking and mingling with the locals, Jas would have learned something valuable.

That a bottle of langkau cost MYR6.00.