Take The Path Less Ordinary

It was a smashing jaunt. Most importantly, OO says a big thank to Nick and the gang who flew in all the way from Scotland to see the hidden side of Malaysia. It was especially nice of them to help us distribute apples and clothes in the village. Here’s a compilation of photos by Andrew. 30+ shots, sit back and enjoy.

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She has natural beauty, cultured and hell can she dresses up. And although she may not be singing all the high notes of 21st century, she has enough to take one’s senses off with an oomph.

The sun sets in Marudu Bay with a fancy finish

Ignored for decades, the northern tip is a world not quite adjusted to new age. Take for example the fried free-range chicken I eat for breakfast. It has textures that can severe dental features. Leathery tough alright, but I swear it’s the most flavoursome chicken I had for a long long time.

Yet, the little meal tells a story. It depicts Borneo’s idyllic charm, untouched by mass tourism and modernity.

The thrill goes beyond sightseeing. For every great journey, destination is only half the deal. Winging it with a mix bag of characters completes it. My Kota Kinabalu – Kudat trip includes a reforestation project director, a retired accountant and an intrepid seafarer. With an anthropology professor, an award winning botanist and an eco-design architect stirred in, the days gallop along with astute narrations from these experts.

We share many memorable moments too, from watching Marudu Bay’s magical sunset to throwing up over Pulau Balambangan’s rough sea. We are bonded by what Sabah hurls at us in 5 days, at full fury.

For many, Sabah is a region visited for lofty peaks, touristy wildlife parks and coral islands. We, however, prefer to see the other side.

Paddy and parang

The northern route isn’t popular, but that can be a good thing.

Roughly 180km from tip to toe, the countryside remains unscathed by modernity and mass tourism. It is indeed a time capsule of Borneo’s purest life.

The first hamlet that greets one on the trail is Kota Belud, the epicentre of Bajau run paddy fields and hub for fine machetes or parangs. These are no ordinary parangs as Bajaus are warrior blacksmiths. And for the best parangs, Kampung Siasai is the place to go.

I like collecting authentic native craftworks. Spotting a blade at a village workshop I fancy, “RM75” is the stern answer when I ask for price. It is artistic, handy and uniquely shaped. Hence, it is a steal for such fine quality of craftsmanship.I wholeheartedly agree and as I slip into my pocket for money, the blacksmith changes his mind and quips, “OK, I’d let you have it at RM60”!

This is the strangest bargain I ever aced – getting low price I didn’t ask for. Wondering who is doing the reverse psychology here.

Rungus heartland

In hamlets like Kota Marudu and Matunggong, the local scene takes a personality split.

Over 40,000 Rungus make a potent presence here. If you didn’t know, the word Kadazan Dusun doesn’t fully depict Sabah’s residents. There are about 65 sub-ethnics in Malaysia’s most eastern state. Each has its distinct culture, language and culinary delights.

I stop asking locals which group they belong to after the first day in Sabah. It’s all too mind boggling. And remember, locals hate generalization. I meet a fisherman who insists that he is a Bugis, not Melayu, when I ask him his race. Everyone is proud of their pedigree.

As for the Rungus, angular walls of their traditional long houses are the local maxim. Another great feature of the Rungus culture is they way they doll up. All men and women own a chockfull of bracelets, bangles and trinkets. These accessories are slipped onto the wrist according to sequence dictated by age old tradition.

And oh, Rungus womenfolk are born to weave.

Sisingal- Several strings of beads tied together, to be worn around the head

Pinakol - Bands of geometric and human figures beadwork usually worn over the shoulders.

Everyone is trained to process jungle materials into robust baskets and tapestries from young. An elderly man shows us a 50 years old rattan knapsack which served his parents in the past. The relic keeps a sturdy shape and looks like it could last another 50 years more, although aging has carbonized it.

Simply put, visiting a Rungus village is like rummaging through your grandma’s closet. It’s a visual feast of sort.

Show me the honey

Roughly 1hr drive north Kota Marudu, we hit Gombizau village. The air is humming with soft almost hypnotic “tung-tung, tung-tung” rhyme. Everyone is either banging away with raw steel plates or fine tuning finished gongs.

We drive deeper into the village and another interesting view unfolds. Part of the “one village one product” scheme mooted by local government, 9 women banded together in 2003 to start a community-based bee farming project. Nowadays, the scheme includes a short guided tour around the hives.

For RM5 per person, one gets to thrill the taste buds with freshly cut honeycomb. The village was dotted with old trees bearing wild bee hives in olden days. That was how locals developed the skill for honey harvesting and used it for barter trade. However, most trees have been cut and replaced by oil palms in the past decades. Locals had turned to bee farming to continue the age old tradition.

I learn a good buying tip here.

If a shop offers bottled honey of same colour, they are most probably fakes. According to our guide, each hive produce honey of different shades of brown because nectar is collected from flowers of various plants, areas and seasons. Hence, difference in viscosity, colour and flavour is to be expected.

Wind swept and sea tossed

Sabah’s timeless appeal spans over the ocean. It is really exciting. I feel as if I am voyaging into uncharted latitudes. But, I am barely 10 nautical miles off Kudat’s shore. Again, a myriad of ethnicities like the Ubian, Sukuk and Bonggi pepper the local population. No one really knows how these parts are managed. Kudat’s northern edge is really close to Phillipines waters and it appears wild and deserted.

Pulau Banggi is the main draw here. And despite its sheer size (slightly larger than Singapore), population is sparse and sadly the poorest Malaysians live here centred around Karakit.

Never sail the waters off Kudat coast on a full stomach

It’s probably no coincidence that people rarely venture here. The wind swept choppy sea is enough to shoot anyone’s nerves to pieces. When we see our boat vessel operator puke, we know it won’t be long when our turns come. What started out as an island hopping trip progresses into a marathon of throw-ups. Yet, I consider it the favourite part of my Sabah jaunt.

On a desert island, we stumble on wild Tongkat Ali patches everywhere we look. My botanist travel mate has a field day cooing how plants thrived and evolved naturally in an isolated island. It’s as though he discovered a lost world. Funny how nature never holds still; biology will find ways to live in the most hostile setting.

Bugis community only fish at night on bagangs, not boats. Bamboo structures are put up on shallow waters and lamps are hung low on water surface to attract fishes for netting.

Come to think of it, what I really love about the northern Sabah is its innocence. The thinly peopled landscape and coconut draped shoreline.

I’d say it again: Northern Sabah makes a good wife.

Occasionally, she throws tantrums and the relationship may not be smooth sailing. But she’ll always have your heartstrings on her finger tips.

Travel Tips

To see the countryside up close, self driving is the way to go. Getting lost is fairly impossible. Mount Kinabalu outcrop is always there for you to check your bearings.

Contrary to what people say, Sabah’s countryside roads are well paved and not short of signage. It pays to drive slower though as marauding goats, cows and chickens are part of the local pedestrian scene.

All telcos’ mobile phone signals are strong in the region. In choppy waters over far flung Pulau Banggi, my hand phone could still muster 2 bars.

For overnights, Kota Belud and Kudat are good places to pad as hotels and eateries are easy to come by. If you prefer something unusual, try Bavanggazo village’s traditional Rungus longhouse. The overnight package is priced at RM58 per person with dinner and breakfast included. Contact 088 622524 for bookings.

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Editor: This article was published in New Straits Times dated June 02, 2009.

Good reads after this

1. Road map of Sabah
2. Climb Mt Kinabalu with the heart, not feet

When you show good manners, you’re an intrepid traveler. When you’re annoying, you’re a tourist.

The word intrepid is measured by mindset, not how many places visited. Winging a trail and not knowing how it will end up is exciting. In intrepid mode, you are gutsy, sometimes reckless even. But let’s admit, it’s hard to be an adventurer with only 3 weeks of holiday a year. No one starts out as an intrepid traveler naturally, but some tips won’t harm …

Tip 1 - Money

Stop feeding on your parents’ hard earned cash. Get a real job. Don’t ask for mountain treks, reef diving or polar expedition followed by “my budget is $50 per day”. It’s irritating. To go where few has boldly gone before isn’t going to be shoestring. If you don’t have the money, stay at home. Watch National Geographic on TV instead.

Tip 2 – Who you travel with

Everyone fantasizes that Indiana Jones lives deep inside him somewhere. But who says adventure is all about gawking at historic sites or basking in a sun soaked beach. People say great destination is only half the deal. We say a travel mate is the other half. Go traveling with your grandma. A trip like that will ask you what you are made of. It’s good training too.

Tip 3 - Personal hygiene

The “intrepid traveler” isn’t sexy when he is filthy. You know … shower, brush your teeth, wash your clothes, trim your fingernails. If you intend to have lady friends as traveling mates, they should feel clean sharing arm rest with you on train seats. They not want to be afraid of catching communicable disease from toilet seats, cups used by you, or be disgusted with your special hairs on the bathroom floor.

Tip 4 - You are what you eat

Now that you are big enough to travel without mommy around, you’re going to have to fend for yourself. Mc Donald’s happy meal doesn’t count as ethnic food. Avoid food that comes with disposable wares. Going green means more that vegetables. Learn to eat what locals eat, drink what locals drink. Better yet, learn how to actually cook local food.

Tip 5 - Substance please

A slick The North Face jacket doesn’t make you a traveler. It only makes you look like a hobo dressed with thick clothing in hot Malaysian weather. Like Donald Trump’s comb-over, fakes are easy to spot. Logic is the key. We know it’s a holiday, but donning a pair of sunglasses while trekking dark forest floor tell a lot about your IQ (we see this happening all the time).

Tip 6 - Keep the spirit

Let’s admit backpacking is cool but don’t ask around in Lonely Planet’s e-forum where to leave your luggage somewhere for a few days. That’s not “backpacking”. You are supposed to travel with all your belongings. Your backpack is your single most loyal companion and it deserves respect. Where you go, it goes.

Tip 7 - Personal virtue

An intrepid traveler goes will the flow. He shares with everyone, regardless of skin color, religious leanings or pedigree. He passes along expertise and good advice. Most importantly, an intrepid traveler looks out for women and children and makes them stand behind him in time of danger.

Tip 8 – Know it all

Understands the basic mechanics of planet Earth. Learn how to squint, look up at the sun, and tell what time of day it is. Smell the air and know when a storm is approaching. You should understand how eggs grow into tadpoles or why in certain countries people eat frogs. Observe and see things below the surface. A traveler who has answers for everything always scores with the girls.

Tip 9 – Never stop learning

You need a pea sized brain to get lost nowadays. Make use of the internet, guidebooks and e-forums. Read a lot. Don’t be fazed by places with locals who don’t speak English. Learn Sanskrit if you have to. And for Pete’s sake, pick up some foreign profanities too. Use it on your annoying boss back home. He won’t know what hit him.

Tip 10 - Slow down

People always rush into things. That’s how first marriages screw up. Travel less places but travel them well. Feel the wind in your hair. Do some voluntary work. Learn local crafts. Stay in a jungle village for a week or two. If you’re not meant for leeches and squat toilet, it’s a lesson too.

Good reads after this

1. Malaysia leech rule no.1 - Don’t scream for your guide
2. Dodging danger in Malaysian jungle

Anyway, most never travel more than 100 paces away from their villages and so saying “there” and “not there” seemed to work well.

The tourism industry mostly catered to spice traders and pirates until 1300 circa when rich and famous celebrities finally took notice of the Malay peninsular. This was driven by the fact that many 5-star holiday sail ship never go far enough without being tossed back to the peninsular coastline either by east or west monsoon winds.

Among many, Parameswara’s visit was pivotal in pushing the industry into upmarket.

Fed up with volcanic tremors, annual forest fire and dodgy bakso served in Palembang, the prince sailed across stormy Malacca Straits hoping to find respite. The prince was clueless when he arrived Temasek Island. Lonely Planet wasn’t published yet and Indon-speaking tour guides were hard to come by. Yet, ecotourism was the latest fad and Parameswara (let’s keep it short and call him Param) wasted no time booking a buffalo ride - today we call 4×4 safari tour. He has a penchant for wildlife.

In smattering Malay, he asked Temagi the chief guide about a big feline he just saw chewing on his “4×4”’s muddy behind.

P: What in the world is that?

T: Oh, itu harimau (That’s a tiger)

P: Heck, I did not get storm-tossed just to get here to see a tiger. I get loads of them in Sumatra. I say that’s a lion.

T: Tuan, itu memang harimau. Singa hanya dijumpai di benua Afrika. (Sir, it’s a tiger. Lions are only found in Africa).

P: See that Majaphahit ship with cannons pointing at your kampong? My 1,000,000 rupiah fee boarding school education has taught me well enough to tell the difference between a bloody lion from a tiger. Are you calling me liar?

T: Sungguh bijak tuan. Itu singa! (Wow, we are lucky to spot a lion today)

And from thereon, all tigers in Temasek had identity crisis. Locals coined the name “singa pura pura” (meaning de facto lion in Malay) to help the tigers feel better.

Ironically, the dupe caught on pretty well with eco-tourists. They thought it was newly discovered specie and started flocking the island. National Geographic even ran a story about the “startling” find. Of course, American writers back then couldn’t tell a buffalo from a bison and had the cheeks to name natives there Indians. The Sioux, Navajos and Cherokees were peeved. But with cannons pointing at their wigwams, they too didn’t argue much.

Now, back to our story.

It seemed that the barren island has hit the jackpot with tourism. Thus, it was apt that Temagi re-branded Temasek island and marketed it as “Singapura” to appeal to the mass market. (In 20th century, some brand gurus went further by splicing mermaid with lion and gave birth to “Merlion”. Politicians stopped short of changing the island’s name again because cloning was against the law and it didn’t go down well with animal rights activists).

Now, where were we again? Oh yes, Param.

With new found fame as the discoverer of “singa pura pura”, the prince turned naturalist was again itching to move on and pioneer a new ground or two for ecotourism. The habit of pointing cannons at people he made conversation with was starting to get expensive. On bad days, he wasted 10-20 rounds to prove his point. Eventually, he ran out of cannonballs and sold the ship. When Singapura finally bored him, he moved on and swam across Tebrau Straits.

It wasn’t too long when the historic moment arrived. While stopping over in for a short break after a long journey, Param spotted a mouse deer (in his diary he recorded it as an oversized rat) and was amazed how the creature fought off his cats. He took it as a good omen. When a local Orang Asli said the tree he was resting under was the Melaka Tree (Phylianthus emblica), he quickly named the place Melaka.

Thus, the newcomer and Orang Asli natives, through the spirit of goodwill and compromise, reached the first series of mutually beneficial agreement that enabled them to coexist for another 30-40 days, after which Param bought a new ship and went back to his old habit of pointing cannons. Finally, after more and new mutually beneficial agreements were negotiated, the Orang Asli natives perceived the benefits of living further into the jungle and left Param alone to establish a new theme park.

By 1511, the monsoon winds had tossed some Portuguese battle ships to Malacca’s coastline and the captain negotiated with bigger cannons. This time, it was Param’s turn to retreat into the jungle. The Portuguese managed the local tourism scene for 130 years and brought high-end European holidaymakers. In 1641, the Portuguese who suffered heavy losses due to SARS outbreak sold Malacca to the Dutch who ran the place for another 183 years. The Dutch did a good job introducing chocolates, tobaccos and alcohol in duty-free jetties to boost the influx of travellers.

Next came Penang takeover by the Brits, the single most important event to occur in Malaysia – with the exception of Malaysian Idol.

In 1786, Sir Francis Light saw an opportunity in Penang when the local chieftain asked for his help to point a few English cannons at his enemies in exchange for the island. But there was a catch. Unbeknownst to the chieftain, Light had acted without the approval of the East Indian Travel and Tour Company – the tour company Light worked for - when he promised military protection. Finally, the chieftain and his noblemen, realizing their further actions could determine the fate of their homeland, voted to give themselves a raise. It wasn’t total democracy, but it was a good start.

The chieftain tried to retake the island in 1790 and the first round went to him. Light retaliated by senting more reinforcements and again the noblemen formed a consultative forum and voted themselves cost-of-living pay raise. Light offered to foot the bill and peace settled on Penang at last.

So, against all odds, the colonists won and bestowed the country its first constitution and laws on tourism. The tourism ministry was formed and divided into two divisions;

1. Departments set up for purposes that no taxpayer would ever voluntarily spend money on.

2. Departments set up for purposes that made sense originally, but noboby can remember what they are for.

This innovative system of “check and balances” ensures that any action taken by one department will be rendered useless by an equal and opposite reaction from another. The highest ranking officer is the Minister of Tourism, whose primary duties are to complain about dirty toilets, trishawmen overcharging and sent his deputies aboard to frown and discuss with Chinese emperor how to stop female tourists from going to Malaysia to work as GROs. The emperor who has 1 wife and 1000 porcupines (oops, we mean corcubines) couldn’t be bothered.

Actually, the problem started in 15th century when Chinese hotties first touched the shores of Malacca. Malacca went wild and local housewives had sleepness nights. The queen was hardest hit when the Sultan married one named Hang Li Poh. But there was good in the latest craze. Cash rich dirty old pirates started pouring in and brought in the much needed economic boost just when Malacca’s popularity dipped as Singapura’s new night safari zoo veered many tourists away.

If today’s archeologists dig deep enough, ruins of karaoke and joget halls can still be found.

The Japanese took over the tourism business between 1942 and 1945. They would have loved to stay longer but business wasn’t good. Japanese pilots have a habit of ending in-flight briefings by shouting “Kamikazeee” incessantly and this spooked many inbound air travellers. This was compounded by “Harakiri” required of tour guides when bad reviews were received. Done in front of guests, such management style was anything but sightseeing.

In the end, the Japanese sold off their company Karaoke Holidays for a song and diversified into electronics.

Yes, the country’s tourism industry was a complicated one and centuries of hoodwinks, bloopers and heady mix of historic figures with hard to spell names – try getting “Afonso de Albuquerque” right - make flunking history exams perfectly excusable.

Up to 1960s’, history books were considered soft porn and history classes generated more interest than human reproduction topics in Biology classes. Alas, as years went by, politicians ditched the sleaze and rewrote history to appeal to museum visitors.

Today, tourism hasn’t changed much.

It’s still hard to be right when people with nuclear warheads pointing at your country are wrong. Bacteria in dirty toilets is the only culture some touristy spots have. And ironically, townships named after plants like Penang, Melaka or Ipoh hardly have any trees to show.

They say the best lessons are learnt from history.

Yeah, right.