Written by lainie at 01:23 AM on August 27, 2008.

[ This entry was written during my 2nd day in Dalat, on a borrowed laptop. Was a bit of a surprise for me to find it buried amidst all the photographs from the few days I travelled there, so. Here it is: ]

I think it's been established that I am terrible at getting off boats. Ask anyone who's tried it with me, the amount of nervousness and near-boat tipping I inspire is very real, and nobody wants to fall into the rivers of Dalat. Sure, you see children gleefully playing in it all the time, but jambans (outhouses) line the river, and everything expelled in the jamban plonks through a hole in the ground straight into the water.

You get used to the constant sound of the river and leaves being rustled by the wind, very quickly.

I'm in Kampung Kekan, (possibly) in Dalat, in Sarawak, in Malaysia, in Asia, in Earth, in a place where it doesn't feel too tired to write this way. The pace is a lot slower here. Those of us used to sleeping just before the sun rises back in KL find ourselves yawning here by 10pm, and sound asleep before midnight.

This was before the boat got full, even. When I could still pivot and take photos around me.

In Dalat, boats are an everyday affair. First, it's a two hour long cramped speedboat ride from Sibu. On my left, a sweaty man smushed up against me, finding space on the narrow bench that barely fit my hand before. On my right, Tei had knocked off, sleeping soundly over the waves, the occasional cool breeze that enters and breaks the stifling heat. We had so many bags from other passengers in front of us, I literally could not move my feet for an hour. I was eventually lulled to sleep too. Somewhere out there exists a photo of Tei and I, sleeping with our mouths open while the boat sped down the river.

I joined him right after this picture.

When I later found space to walk, I made my way out, to the top of the boat. A boatman was sitting there, shirt flapping open in the wind. He gestured - I had to hold onto the bar he did, or risk falling off. We had a very broken conversation in Mandarin, where it was established I am from Ipoh, Dalat is an hour away, the scenery is very pretty, and my Mandarin is utter balls.

I had earlier been advised not to pet any "logs floating upstream", as they may turn out to be crocodiles. I presumed the presence of children bathing in the river at least said something about its safety from predators, and the snarkiness of my companions. Later that night, we passed by a meter-long crocodile (our driver said "alligator") roadkill, the first time we headed back to our place to sleep. And no, it was not a mutant monitor lizard or iguana. I'm not sure how the presence of crocodiles and children works in favour of the children. Crocodile snackies?

People tell us about animals here. How there were always otters, hornbills, kingfishers, monkeys, birds. And just when I was thinking, it'd be nice to see a family of otters walk by, they say this is a rare occurence. Sarawak, even the really outback areas, is no longer filled with animals. Kingfishers, sensitive to their environment, do not fly by anymore. It's sad when Sarawak of all places, is losing its primary jungle - to palm tree plantations.

There are, however, cicadas. Seeing them here, huge, black and scary (to me), I realised Ipoh used to get cicadas during certain months of the year, and an occasional kingfisher used to perch outside my bedroom - no longer.

Tei took this picture. Me, about to eat a Melanau kid.

I'm distracted from writing because the Melanau child who's latched on to us the past two days just called Tei a pondan. She can't tell if Tei's a female or male, and somehow this is important. I'm sitting in a blue wooden house built on stilts (Astro dish appended to the side). A Melanau lady who lives alone has agreed to take us into her home for the next few days. Her niece is the child who's taken a shine to us - I've been identified as a ready source of sugar, and from the moment I gave her a roll of pink bubble gum, I had her attention.

The Melanau lady is telling us she's Bumi - but a second class Bumi, after the Malays.She's talking about how heritage is difficult to trace amongst the Melanau, because by a patronymic system like the Malays, they take on their father's name. You can however tell which tribe someone is from based on their names. eg: Ngau is a Kayan name, and Bulan a Murut name.

Yes, sunsets here are gorgeous. Pic by Tei.

I can feel the ground move beneath me. The house sways with the land, and everything around it. It feels like a mild hallucination when nothing in the house is completely still. The water in the glass ahead of me has been constantly moving slightly, like a calm sea in a cup reminding me of this.

As for my friends - Tei is here, with her videocamera. Another two, Steph and Lou, are here to write a book. Lou's a marine biologist (specialising in marine mammals), and I think I'm in love with her camera kit. I'm the unofficial bumaround, triggerhappy with my camera, eager to purchase tuak and willing to eat everything. Tei has noticed I'm quite unabashed when invited to try anything under the tag of "local culture". And I've discovered my camera has a strand of hair on its CCD, which introduces a blemish in some of the photos I take, but I'm not really concerned.

Our first dinner here was a drive out to Oya, a seafood restaurant where we had umai (raw fish accompanied with sago pellets), seafood and satay. It was so dark out by the sea, we couldn't really see our food. Asides from the umai, most of the dishes seemed cooked with either salt, chillies, or a combination of both.

--

[ And this was written a day before I left Dalat ]

In a little boat ride wayyyy down the lonely river (Sungai Ud), which we're visiting for a dip in the dark, clean water, I see a dark shadow dart just a few feet away, low amongst the greenery.

Lainie: HOLY. What was that? Monkey. Someone say that was a monkey. Monkey?
Tei: An alligator.....
Louisa: An alligator......
Lainie: ........

Now. You're on an unsteady boat. There are no other boats around. The only land near you is the jungle or the bottom of the river, and civilisation is nowhere nearby. You've just learned there is at least one alligator around. At this moment, there are some things you don't want to hear, such as

[ Cue: Thunder ]

We looked up, looked forward, and I think we got out of that area in about a quarter of the time it took for us to get in.

--

sebenarnya bukan buaya.

I will write about Dalat when I'm done sorting through photographs. NGRAHHHH!