Meet the Kelabits

It is almost midnight in the dense jungles of Borneo and I am sitting on the branch of a tree rooted on the slope of a big eerie mountain. I look up towards the peak and see a thick blanket of mist gliding down the mountain. Jason whispers into my ears, "Sakai, that mist will drive the beasts towards us. Are you ready with your rifle and knife? " I nod absentmindedly; my concentration now on the two blood-sucking leeches feasting on my right leg. Jason whispers again, "Don't worry about them. They are good for you, they suck out your bad cholesterol." I carefully turn around on my branch to thank Jason for this pearl of Kelabit wisdom. But all I see is dark emptiness. I gulp down whatever saliva is left in my mouth and slowly move my left hand to switch on my headlamp. As soon as the light switches on I see flying towards me a flurry of dark clouds, a pair of long sharp fangs and a set of pointy claws.While my neocortex takes its sweet time to process this information, my reptilian brain has already decided to push me off the tree. Midway in my fall the neocortex informs me that what I had just seen might have been the Borneon Cloudy Leopard! This revelation, coupled with the prospect of breaking all my bones, rings very loud alarm bells in my head and I shut my eyes tight. A few seconds later I hit bottom, open my eyes and surprisingly find myself lying next to a bed in a dark room. Disoriented and with alarm bells still ringing I open the door in front of me and find myself staring down an extremely long room. Nearby I see an elderly woman ringing a tubung (bamboo bell), who on spotting me inquires enthusiastically, "You coming church?".

That question brings a sudden flood of clarity and orientation to the situation - it had all just been a nightmare. I had been staying at a traditional Kelabit longhouse - specifically the Bario Asal Longhouse - as part of a homestay program to learn about the Kelabit people. I had had a detailed discussion on the Kelabits' hunting practices with Jason (my host) before going to bed the previous night; and those details had been creatively combined by my brain to deliver a highly unusual yet factual dream. I had awoken at the break of dawn to the sound of the morning prayer bell that is sounded in each longhouse in Bario.

A view of Bario from Prayer Mountain

BARIO is a small valley town hidden in the heart of Borneo's Kelabit Highlands. It is one of the remotest places in Malaysia and for a long time the only decent way to reach it was flying on a 19 seater plane from the nearest town of Miri. However it is now possible to enjoy a 13 hour bumpy jeep ride on forest roads from Miri to Bario. Bario and the surrounding highlands are home to the Kelabits - one of the 24 indigenous groups in the Malaysian state of Sarawak. The name Kelabit was in fact coined accidentally by Charles Hose, an English administrator with less than excellent listening skills, who misheard Pa Labb'd (place name) as Kelabit. This happened in 1901 and the name Kelabit has since been used to officially describe people living in the highlands south of Mount Murud. In late 2015 I decided that meeting the Kelabits would be an interesting project.

When I quit my 8-to-5 job a few months ago to travel the world, I wanted to meet individuals, communities, and organizations solving major development issues in the fields of education, healthcare, poverty, environment etc. I wanted to share through my writings and photography how people around the world were finding unique solutions to some of these ubiquitous problems. The various challenges that the 400 million indigenous people face in our modern 'civilized' world and the way these problems are being tackled, seemed like a good place to start my journey. Specifically I chose the Kelabits because of the tremendous progress they have made as a community in the last few decades.

The Bario Asal Longhouse

The best way to learn about a people is to live with them. So I decided to stay with the Sina Rang Lemulun Homestay program at the Bario Asal Longhouse. A longhouse is basically a highly social, horizontally elongated, open-concept apartment complex. The Bario Asal Longhouse accommodates 23 families and is a 110 meters long all-wood masterpiece of Kelabit architecture. The traditional Kelabit longhouse has three sections:

1) Dalim - this is the core of the longhouse, where separate apartment units are located.

2) Dapur - this is the enclosed front veranda where every family has a hearth. It is basically a long common room with kitchen and dining space for each family.

3) Tawa - this is the enclosed back veranda which serves as the social hall. This is where residents gather to talk, play, sing, dance and have celebrations. A leisurely 100 m walk down this hall gives you a feel of the sheer size of the longhouse. You also get to learn a lot about the residents through the family photos decorating the side walls of the hall.

Tawa, the very long social hall inside the longhouse

The Bario Asal Longhouse gets electricity from 6pm to 11pm from a micro-hydro plant located a few kilometers away. But most houses in Bario still don't have access to reliable electricity. Apart from electricity, mobile and internet connections are also practically non-existent in the region. But the lack of these facilities was a refreshing change for me. I could focus my senses on absorbing the sights, smells, tastes and sounds of this beautiful town and its spectacular natural surroundings. But more importantly I could spend time having interesting conversations with the locals.

William was the first Kelabit who formally introduced Bario to me. He picked me up from the airport because Jason, my host and his cousin, was out on a trekking expedition. He looked to be in his early thirties and was a bright and friendly fellow who spoke good English. To reach the longhouse, which was on the other end of Bario, we drove down the single main road which served the charming little town. William proudly showed me the various sites we passed by – the solar powered clinic, the main marketplace, the police station, the primary school, the secondary school, the church and so on. But what dominated my vision were the green paddy fields. I asked William if rice cultivation was the major Kelabit occupation? He answered that paddy farming had once been the major occupation of the Kelabit people. But since it was a labor intensive job, most youngsters instead preferred office jobs in bigger towns and cities. He explained further that this migration had left mainly old folks and young children in Bario, who obviously were not able to work in the fields. This had created a severe labor shortage in the paddy business and had led to a decline in the Bario Rice yield. However with timely help from the government and a private contractor (by improving the farming process through mechanization) the Bario paddy business was now experiencing a revival. Engaged in this interesting discussion, we soon reached the longhouse, where he showed me my room and told me that Jason would be back by dinner time.

The main road serving Bario

I met Jason in the Dapur at around six that evening. He was a well-built individual (just like a trekking guide should be) with a pleasant and laid back manner. After quick introductions we decided to have the tasty dinner his aunt had prepared for us. We sat next to the fireplace where the food had been cooked and tucked into the jungle veggies, the chicken soup and the Bario rice. As we enjoyed our meal I asked him if the homestay business was doing well? He replied that tourism had recently picked up in Bario and the longhouse homestay programs were indeed very popular with tourists. In fact the recent rise in tourism had attracted some Kelabit youngsters, like William and himself, back to Bario. I asked him what apart from the homestay programs made Bario a tourist attraction? This question awakened the Bario tourism evangelist in him! He explained passionately how the surrounding mountains and thick jungles provided abundant opportunities for outdoor activities such as trekking, mountain biking, rock climbing, camping etc. He went on to show me his plans of building a tree-house in the jungle, where tourists could stay and immerse themselves in the wilderness. He explained to me how sitting high up on a tree-house provided a perfect vantage point to spot wild animals such as Bay Cats, Borneon Cloudy Leopards, Borneon Gibbons, Sumatran Rhinos etc. As I listened to him and bit into a piece of chicken, I wondered if the Kelabits ate the meat of the animals he had just mentioned. Instead of asking this bluntly I queried if the Kelabits were just farmers or if they were hunters as well? He smiled at me and asked me if I was an undercover wildlife conservationist! He explained to me that hunting for food had long been an essential and natural part of the Kelabit way of life, just like it is for any indigenous community that lives within nature. Indigenous people have never hunted for fun, they hunted because it was a necessity. However as Kelabits are slowly moving towards a more modern way of living and with increasing interaction with tourists, hunting was on the decline. We then discussed in detail how the Kelabits hunted; a discussion which was fodder for my nightmare later that night. Around us the Dapur & the Tawa were abuzz with social activity – kids playing, women singing, a traditional dance being performed for a group of tourists, cats scavenging for food and visitors like me talking to their hosts – and I slowly started feeling at home in this longhouse.

A solar powered cross atop the Prayer Mountain

“You coming church?” asked the old woman ringing the tubung. I said no as I was exhausted from my nightmare and needed to rest. But I decided to visit the church later that day. The main church in town was a quick bicycle ride away and the sound of the choir served as a GPS to guide me there. Outside the church I met some tourists who had come from Kuala Lumpur. “Have you climbed the Prayer Mountain yet?” asked one of them. I told them I hadn't. They explained to me that the Prayer Mountain was the local holy mountain that had a small church on it. A solar powered cross had recently been installed on its peak and it would be officially inaugurated in a few days time. You would then be able to see the cross 24 hours a day from anywhere in town. The church choir was apparently practicing for the upcoming inauguration ceremony. After the other tourists left, I decided to sit there and read some literature on the history of Kelabit Christianity.

Almost all of the Kelabits in the Highlands are now Christians. Christianity, though introduced in the 1940s, significantly impacted the lifestyle of the Kelabits since 1973 when something called the spiritual revival happened in the community. The type of Christianity adopted by the Kelabits is called the Borneo Evangelic Mission or Sidang Inj'll Borneo (SIB). Most locals, including the elders and community leaders, believe that Christianity has been a force for good in the community. It has organized life in the community in many ways. A day in the Kelabit community starts with an early morning prayer to seek God's guidance, protection and blessing for the coming day. In the evening, the day ends with a prayer to thank God for providing the same. It is also believed that Christianity has brought a greater awareness towards hygiene and a healthy way of living. Smoking and drinking are either prohibited or discouraged in their Christian way of life, so that people can focus their energies towards more productive activities. Being part of a universal religion has linked the Kelabits with people from around the world; and therefore made them feel part of a greater global community, in turn helping them overcome their isolation. But the most important effect of Christianity has been the great increase in the desire to get a formal education. The need to read the bible and other religious documents was what probably ignited this desire to learn how to read and write. Many believe that the church and the school have been important focal points for the unity and progress of the Kelabit people.

Church in the foreground & Secondary School in the background

In Bario education and religion are not only closely related, but also closely located! The two schools– Bario Primary School (SK Bario) and Bario Secondary School (SMK Bario) – were right next to the church where I was seated. The languages used at these schools were English and Malay – two new languages for kids who usually speak the native Kelabit language at home. Due to a lack of higher educational institutions in Bario everyone has to go to bigger towns to continue their education after secondary school; therefore proficiency in English and Malay is important. Many of the Kelabits who have studied in these schools are now respectable professionals all around Malaysia and beyond. On my way to the local marketplace I decided to bicycle through the secondary school. I received some lovely smiles and enthusiastic English 'hellos' from the students who had just come out for a break. Smiling back at those bright kids I wondered where they would be 10 years into the future?

Bario Marketplace

John, who was dressed like a cowboy and had a wrinkled face of a sixty year old man, smiled and invited me to join him for a cup of coffee. I had just arrived at the coffee-cum-handicraft-cum-grocery shop at the marketplace and was glad to have found someone to have a chat with. He introduced himself as a Bario tour guide who lived in the nearby village of Pa Umor. I told him that I was an explorer from the great city of Singapore and that I was in Bario to learn about his people. He asked me what I had learned so far? I told him about my visit to the church and the school and my understanding of how religion and education had been two great tools used in the upliftment of the Kelabit people. He listened to me attentively but I did not observe any nods of approval. I asked him if he agreed with my observation. He replied that religion and education have undoubtedly helped the community a lot, but they have also had a negative impact. They have exposed Kelabits to the outside world and led many younger people to migrate out of the highlands for higher education or jobs. Many of these people married outside their community which led to loss of ethnicity, culture and language. Life outside the highlands has also impacted the attitude and lifestyle of these people. This can cause tension in the community when these people return to the highlands, temporarily or permanently, and interact with those who never left. I asked John if he had personally experienced such a situation. He told me of a family in his village who lived in the big city and visited now and then to see their elders. Recently they came back and decided to build an 'independent' house for their family and moved out of the traditional longhouse. The elders of the village did not like this as they felt that this would lead to others moving out of the longhouse, and that soon the longhouse culture would be lost. And that is exactly what happened – more families moved out of the longhouse. I found John's contrarian point of view interesting and therefore to get more out of him I asked if he felt there were any other negative impacts of contact with the outside world. He told me that the opening of the forest road was bringing too many vehicles into Bario – a trend which would inevitably lead to pollution of the beautiful natural surroundings. Even though he was a tour guide, he was worried about how the rapid growth of tourism would affect the community in years to come. He explained how tourism had already resulted in a dramatic increase in construction – which meant increased logging in the forest and construction dust pollution in town. Suddenly he stood up and informed me that he had to leave – he had to show some tourists a salt spring in the jungle. With a big smile on his face, John said that if we ever met again, he promised that the conversation would be about the positive aspects of his community. I nodded in approval and waved him goodbye.

I did not meet John again, but over the next few days I enjoyed the many positive aspects of Bario and its surroundings - I climbed the Prayer mountain, bicycled around lush green paddy fields, witnessed a traditional Kelabit dance, gazed at the starry night sky, sipped on hot tea on cool misty mornings, read a couple of books on the Kelabit Highlands, had long fascinating chats with Jason and enjoyed the tasty local food served at the homestay.

One of the best ways of enjoying Bario is on a bicycle

As I sat recollecting those experiences at the airport gate on my last day, I heard someone say hello to me. I turned to my left and saw a group of elderly women smiling towards me. I smiled and said hello as well. They asked me where I was from and why I had come to Bario. So I told them my story which you already know. I told them that I would publish an article about my experiences in Bario and gave them the link to my website. One of the ladies didn't have the patience to wait for my article and asked me if I would be kind enough to narrate to them my opinions about their community and their land. This is more or less what I told them:

"The purpose of my visit to Bario was to understand how the Kelabits, a small indigenous community, had made such tremendous ''progress'' – from an isolated tribal way of living to an open civilized way of living - over the last few decades. I found my answers through insightful conversations with various locals and through reading some very useful literature. I learned that the inherent hardworking and ambitious nature of the Kelabits combined with the structural support provided by the the twin pillars of religion and education had helped the Kelabits catch up with modern civilization. However this progress has meant that many Kelabits have migrated out of the highlands and this migration has in turn led to issues such as labor shortage in agriculture, intermarriages and an increasing cultural gap between the young and the old. Given this,the Kelabits will definitely have to figure out a way to conserve their language, customs and culture. Over the next few years tourism will also play an important part in shaping the community. The community leaders will have to make sure that the growth in tourism is handled in a sustainable manner, so as to reduce any negative impact it might have on their society and their natural environment." 

After this short speech I chatted with the old ladies about all kinds of random things - Singapore, photography, travel, the health benefits of Bario salt, the possibility of me marrying a Kelabit girl etc. Then we walked to our 19 seater plane which flew us out of paradise and towards civilization.

Notes, Tips and other Random Information:

1. Names have been changed for privacy reasons.
2. Most homestay packages in Bario include three meals a day.
3. Best way to explore Bario - on foot. If you are lazy, get a bicycle.
4. Be a responsible tourist - don't pollute, behave yourself when leeches attack you, smile when you see locals and buy local arts and crafts to encourage local artists.
5. Good time to visit Bario in 2016 : Bario Food Festival - 28th to 30th July. Runners Wild Bario - 21st May.

This article was originally published on 29th March 2016 at the following location: https://flyingpitta.com/?p=50