We all gathered in the hotel lobby at 9:00 a.m. anxious to
start our trip. We had a fairly short drive, about 2 hours, out of Kota
Kinabalu into the mountains covered with a jungle of rich green vegetation and
carved with trickling streams tumbling over the rocks to the valleys below. The
main road was a pretty good two lane road; the traffic was like a wagon train
crawling up the hillsides. The road got smaller and smaller until it turned
into a very narrow dirt road going up a very steep mountain, then we were heading
back down into a valley and turned off the road, went over a bridge, and onto a
concrete path wide enough for one vehicle and we were in the tribal village of
Tanak Nabulu.
We tripped out of the bus into the Community Hall to the beat of
a band playing local music. We were greeted by the town dignitaries, and
offered cold tea and sweets made from sweet potato. We were then allocated to a
“foster family” and met the foster mother who led us back to our “foster home”
where we met the foster grandfather and the little kids. After settling into our
room, we ate lunch downstairs at a big dining table in their kitchen. Once
again, another delicious meal.
The home was quite large with a sitting area
downstairs where you could watch TV, and a dining area attached to an adequate
sized kitchen. The toilets were regular toilets, with a washbasin where you
could brush your teeth and wash your face before bed. Behind us and unseen,
were some curtains which I believe is where the family slept. Upstairs, there
were about 4 bedrooms which were set up for home stays. We had one of the
bedrooms and two guys from our trip had the other. Then on the same floor as
the bedrooms was a wide covered balcony where you could sit and relax and
listen to the noises and animal sounds coming from the village.
Around 2:00 p.m. we met our guide Oswald and set off on a jungle
walk – a practice for Mt Kinabalu!! We climbed up a steep, dirt path no wider
than a 10” plank with mud steps, rocky steps and tons of rusty brown leaves
which seemed to have some hidden oil on them which made it real easy to propel
forwards or backwards in a jerky movement while trying to catch your feet
below. All around us was magnificent growth, rubber trees and bananas on the
lower slopes, moving up to taller trees of secondary growth. The bottom of each
rubber tree contained an old tin can to catch the rubber as it seeped out from
the bark. Several times I stopped and stared at the vast mountain above us that we
were to climb in two days time, and the immense lush green vegetated valleys
and mountains all around us. It was a National Geographic picture.
It was hot – about 34C – and 70% humidity and it felt
like being in a wet sauna. We came down the mountain and headed straight
through the village to the river, a little dryer than normal due to the hot,
dry, season they have been having. We suffered the pebbly bottom and walked to
the deepest part which was about my hip level. The village kids were there, the
bus drivers, were there, ourselves, and other villagers were there all crowded
into this small swim hole and crouching or kneeling to make believe it was deep
like a swimming pool! The little kids dive bombed in around us regardless of
the shallow water, the little girls coyly came up to say “hello” and the little
boys played with some of the guys in our group. It was a happy scene.
Then we went up to the house to relax for a few minutes and
to get ready for dinner. We sat out on the balcony at our foster home and
listened to the dogs barking, the cockerels crowing, and the little kids
laughing and playing. Contentment. The village is not as undeveloped as the
villages in West Africa, and not as developed as our villages in Australia,
Britain or Canada. Houses ranged from 2 storey to one storey and were built of
concrete block or wood siding and tin roofs. Each had its little fenced garden
in which you could see some greens growing, maybe a cockerel in a wire netting
cage, some hens, or dogs or cats or all, and flowering bushes, plus the new
looking pickups and cars in the driveways.
At 7:00 p.m. our foster Mum led us back down the concrete
path to the Community Hall and shortly the male band in their dark jackets with
gold stripes struck up their gongs to a regular rhythm. Clapping all
around when they stopped. Then it was the ladies turn: they introduced the
delicious dishes they had cooked for a buffet dinner, and we piled up our
plates.
After dinner, we had an opportunity to try out the gongs,
and with the help of the lead band player working with one of us as “leader" and
setting the beat for us to follow, we played a simple rendition of their local
music! Next, there was a dance show.
First the little girls and then the women showed us their local dance skills,
accompanied by the gong players.
At the end of the show we were each given a number and
paired up with a local dancer who showed us the steps and the rhythm of their
local dance and so we all had our chance to demonstrate our skills. One of our
group is a university dance teacher. Her performance was easily the best of all
the visitors…and maybe even of the local dancers too!!
Soon it was time to head to bed. Oh yes, I forgot. We are in
a muslim country, so much to the chagrin of the guys on the trip, there is not
much or maybe no liqueur around – at this village anyway! Ray went off to bed,
and I sat for a little longer chatting with the two other guys in our homestay
group and watching football with some of the family members. Haven’t worked out
the relationships yet, or who all lives here: maybe Grandma/Grandpa, Mum (Dad
is with the police in Kuala Lumpur - it is customary for the men to leave the village to find work), Mum’s brother and wife, Mum’s two kids,
some cousins – at least!!
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