Emails from Malasia 1 | 2

From: "Angie Eng" <angie_eng@hotmail.com>
To: mailing list
Subject: along the Kinabatangan...
Date: Wed, 20 Jun 2001 22:46:31 –0400

ALONG THE KINABATANGAN

Where the Wild Things Are is a place only familiar in the zoo to a city mouse like myself. Coming face to face with a herd of wild Asian elephants grazing along the banks of a Borneo jungle is one of those life instances when you had to be there.

At first, I had no fear. Being a foreigner to the jungle, a young coat of ignorance protected me from danger. But, the boatman knew the wild in wilderness. As soon as a baby elephant turned our direction and came closer to munch on grass, the boatman in fear, turned, ran and jumped off the bank plunging into the river missing the canoe by ten inches. No sooner afterward, the ruckus he made scared the migrating herd of elephants into the dense bush.

My first sighting of a wild elephant at Kinabatangan Jungle, Borneo

We made our way back along the Kinabatangan to the jungle camp. We squinted into the canopy for Probuscis monkeys(AKA The Dutchman for their enlarged noses resembling Walter Matthaw), mischievous Long Tailed Macaques, Silver Leaf Monkeys, shy crocodiles, snow white cranes, Rhino Hornbills with red and yellow casques above their bills, crying White Bellied Eagles and the rare chance to spot an Orang utan, Borneo's solitary orange ape.

The sun was setting as we passed a yellow Catepillar transporting resources from the vast plantation of palm that has quickly replaced the virgin jungle. The supply of timber, the once main industry of Malasia, was quickly depleted once the hundreds of years of jungle growth, including the buttressed trunks, covered in tangling liana and the pillar roots of the strangling fig, were all cut and carted away for national prosperity. A second planting left the existing wildlife to be partially camouflaged. Subsequently, young growth poses as a great benefit for the telephoto lens of the occasional tourist on a safari. Nonetheless, this is a place of what is left of heaven on earth.

Ten species of butterflies fluttered around us. My favorite, the Tree Nymph Butterfly of translucent polka dots floats freely like rice paper in the wind. A Stick Insect camouflaged in the branches sat in front of my nose while a Green Fence Lizard awaited for a tasty insect and a Skink Lizard shuffled under the decomposing leaves. A giant beetle rolled up like a football in my palm slowly exposed its hundreds of legs. An arachnophobia's nightmare describes the colors, shapes, sizes, and textures of the jungle spiders covered in thick fur, glazed a shiny plastic yellow or wearing a pair of horns upon its head three times the size of its red rectangular body.

There are many rules to remember when in the jungle; Don't forget the mosquito repellant, the rain slicker, the salt/lighter for leeches, the compass, the torch, the batteries, the water, the long socks and the pocket knife. Most of all- do not forget to not stand in one place for longer than two seconds or else suffer the bee sting bites of the Fire Ants below. All reminders become second nature once you learn the hard way. Forgetfulness, not a sleeping bag, is roughing it in the jungle.

Confidently, I briskly walked behind my guide as he lit the path with his torch. A sudden noise alarmed the guide to step back and quickly turn, causing my heart to skip a beat. Immediately, my reaction was to run in the opposite direction. False alarm. It was gone. Just the wild Bearded Pig, a hairier pig sporting beard and sideburns, harmless to humans with the exception of her tick tag-alongs. Like the crocodile sprinting into the water with a plunge and glide, Ms. Piggy ran off upon hearing our sounds or sniffing our odors.

'You can swim' said the camp owner. Man eating crocodiles 15 feet in length and giant Monitor lizards although harmless they grow to an alarming 2 meters-'No thanks,' I replied.

Nighttime is the next best time besides sunrise in the bush. The surround sounds of cicadas, frogs, geckos and monkeys performed a symphony under the stars. Dinner was served by candlelight on the picnic table. The smell of stir-fry, fresh earth, and mosquito coils wafted in the air. (Not to mention the pervading smell of fungus on our bodies and clothes after 3 days sans shower.)

A midnight boat ride allowed for the chance to see the Buffy Fish Owl sitting along the bank, a couple of Spotted Wild Cats on the hunt, the iridescent eyeballs of the crocs below the water surface peaked above as the moths and bats played in the darkness and the Orang utan slept in a nest of twigs high in the canopy.

Stars out, moon on the rise, good food, slight breeze, a hammock under the open sky, heavy on thoughts, light on life, it will all stay in memory at least for a while.

Cross cultural