Bario diary June 3-June 27, 1966.

Pringle, Robert

Author's Introduction

This account was written during a trip from Bario to Marudi in June 1966 as part of a diary kept throughout thirteen months in Sarawak. I was just finishing doctoral research in Southeast Asian History at Cornell University. My subject was the relationship between the Brookes and the Iban people, later published as Rajahs and Rebels: the Ibans of Sarawak under Brooke Rule, 1841-1941. (1) My research, funded by the London-Cornell Project, (2) concerned mainly the Second and Third Divisions, so the Bario trip was somewhat off subject. My wife and I did it mainly because we wanted to see the Kelabit country, and it turned out to be one of the most memorable parts of our time in Sarawak.

In retrospect, a number of things about this account are of some historical value. To be sure, I was no expert on either the Kelabit or the Orang Ulu, and this is obvious at times. I was 29 years old and opinionated, and these shortcomings are apparent in places. Nevertheless, the diary provides an unusual, possibly unique, snapshot of the region through which my wife and I walked.

We came at an interesting time. Confrontation (Konfrontasi) with Indonesia was still underway, and there was a unit of Gurkha troops in Bario when we arrived there. The integration of Sarawak into Malaysia was just beginning and the imprint of Brooke rule was still obvious. The Kelabit people, too, were in a state of transition, and it seemed that they were meeting this challenge with shrewd selectivity, taking what they wanted, such as education, but trying hard and apparently successfully to retain their robust identity. They had, for example, accepted Evangelical Christianity, but they had not abandoned long hair or alcohol, at least not entirely.

As the diary shows, the relationship between the British armed forces and the local people was genuinely cordial. This was of course partly due to the positive heritage of both Brooke and postwar British colonial rule, and Konfrontasi itself was certainly benign as wars go. But it was also clear that the British were managing the relationship well, doing everything possible to make their presence an asset rather than a burden on the inhabitants. It all seems amazingly positive judged in the light of more recent "low intensity" conflicts, from Vietnam to Afghanistan.

I described the Kelabit-Penan relationship as condescending on the Kelabit side, going so far as to suggest that it resembled in some ways the attitude of whites toward blacks in the old American South. This may have been an overstatement, but there was some truth in it. l wonder if this situation has changed in the last 44 years, as external pressures have increased on both groups.

We had planned to walk out from Bario to the nearest navigable headwaters of the Baram. However, the British military did not want us to see their secret operation at Kuba'an, so they gave us a helicopter ride to Pa Tik, saving us a three-day walk, and we hiked from there to Long Sait, via Long Lellang. The rest of the trip was by river. We had timed our visit to see a tamu, a government-supervised meeting at Lio Mato between Penan nomads and traders, and this turned out to be one of many memorable experiences along the way.

The Sarawak Museum was sponsoring my Iban research, and Tom Harrisson, then in the final days of his curatorship, had notified the Kelabits and the British that we were coming. We found that the Kelabits were not shy about discussing Harrisson and his relationship with them, warts and all, as the diary attests. They clearly appreciated the multi-faceted personality of this larger-than-life personality, regarding him with a mixture of awe, affection and exasperation.

We learned again--that an association with the Sarawak Museum automatically led to acceptance in any area of the state, regardless of the sometimes arcane nature of one's research, or even if, as in our case, we wanted only to meet the local people and learn something of their history and current circumstances.

To our surprise, much of the area we walked through was secondary growth and had apparently been more densely settled and farmed at some time in the past, or so we were told. We encountered relatively little old growth forest, and some of that was being cleared for shifting cultivation. We saw no evidence of major logging along our route, although we knew from our guides that some was already happening not far away. We passed near the proposed Pulong Tau National Park and perhaps through a portion of it. A more recent account of the area is in Jayl Langub's "Penan and the Pulong Tau National Park: Historical Links and Contemporary Life," (3) and I should note here my gratitude to Jayl for reading my draft and helping me with some badly needed revision and standardization of ethnic terminology.

The pictures accompanying this article were processed at the Borneo Studio at 47 Carpenter St. in Kuching, which did the best black and white processing, especially printing, that I have ever encountered anywhere. I carried two 35mm cameras, so a good record of the trip exists in both color and black and white. I would welcome correspondence with anyone who is a subject of the pictures or knows anyone who was. I plan to make sure that all my Sarawak photos will in the future be made accessible to the people of Sarawak.

The diary suggests some interesting questions. Did the departure of British military forces create difficulties for the Kelabits and others, who, as of 1966, were benefiting economically from their presence? Has Iban expansion into the Baram, discussed at the end of this account, continued? How has wholesale logging--including construction of logging roads--changed the lives and welfare of the population? Have the Kelabits been able to maintain what seemed to me to be a remarkably benign engagement with the potentially disintegrating risks and challenges of modernity?

The text presented here is much as it was written on the trail in 1966, aside from corrections of misspellings, egregiously poor wording, and needless repetition. All wholly new material in the text is in brackets. My erratic use of "Punan" and "Penan" has been corrected. A very few brief passages about irrelevant subject matter, such as the political situation in Sarawak in 1966, have been dropped, together with a small amount of material that might, even 44 years later, be offensive to individuals who are still living.

Bario Diary June 3-June 27, 1966

June 3, Bario.

The World Within (4) has changed. This I had expected--nevertheless the degree of shiny modernity here comes as a shock. The overall impression is one of a vigorous people who have taken Progress by the horns and made the most of it, retaining all their self-respect and discipline in the process. Thanks to Dick Goldman, a US Peace Corps Volunteer at Marudi, we were met by the brother of the local Upriver Agent (URA), Paran Ribu (or Frederick, or Frederick Sagau; this is his old name before his son was born) and by a girl named Freda Kedung who is teaching here but who is actually from Long Lellang. We are staying at Frederick Sagau's house--a separate affair, really quite spectacular, located not far from the main Bario longhouse.

The main Bario longhouse itself has been rebuilt although it stands in the same location as the old one. Now it has a shiny new tin roof--and a stretch of lawn all around--and the underneath looks as if someone dusts under it every morning. A greater contrast to the average Iban set-up simply could not be imagined. The house of the URA where I am staying--his name is Ngaraway (or Brauk) Ulun--is made of sawn planks (there is a sawmill here), some of them huge. It has two storeys, running water (rain catching in old oil drums transmitted via plastic hose) and is completely spic and span--but downstairs the hearths are still in the middle of the floor. Plenty of people still look spectacularly traditional as far as earrings etc. are concerned.

The plane arrival drew a huge crowd--the airstrip runs down the middle of the fiat Bario plain--on one side a Royal Navy helicopter unit and Gurkha HQ and on a hill in back a new camp being built, employing 100 local people, to consist of no fewer than eighty long tin huts. After the plane landed and we got off, everyone crowded around and peered inside it great fascination. Much of the prosperity is no doubt a result of Confrontation. To get here [Frederick's house] we walked about fifteen minutes along a bicycle path, past many square wet rice plots they are now preparing to plant again.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

The flight up was great fun. We wondered whether we were going to leave Lutong--one engine seemed to be acting up--but all went like clockwork. It is only twelve minutes to Marudi where almost all the seats were removed from the plane and most of the passengers got off. From then on we were over jungle all the way, with an occasional glimpse of twisting brown river far below. The country gets increasingly rugged--we had good views of the crazy twin peaks Batu Lawi (like two great fingers) just before we popped over the edge, or so it felt, and there was Bario.

The penghulu, Gerawat (Gerawat Aran, former name Ngimat Ayu), was there to meet the plane--I delivered Tom Harrisson's message although they were well aware that he was coming (probably well after we have left, due June 11).

Yes it is COOL here though hot enough walking in the sun. Fantastic plump bananas and juicy oranges quite unlike anything else to be found in Sarawak. Also at Brauk's house where we now are--a jamban (toilet) equipped with toilet paper, and a gas lawnmower parked under the house! We are lodged on the second floor in considerable style. A girl whose relationship I haven't figured out saw my cigar and brought up a glass saucer for an ash tray. Things are well looked after and they don't want holes burned in their best mats and mattresses. Also it may be that the Borneo Evangelical Mission (BEM), which has swept the board here, has put them off tobacco as well as drink. [Wrong--see below]

Lovely people on the plane--here you see that this is still the place where the twain meet. There was a barefoot type with a long bony Kelabit face, long hair and straw hat. Another got on with his wife who was slightly alarmed. She had to get Barbara (Pringle) to help her with her seat belt. Once in the air the men at least enjoyed it thoroughly, identifying rivers, etc.

With a little serious thought it is obvious we will NEVER be back to Marudi by the seventeenth no matter what route we take out, so we are canceling our Lutong-Brunei flight--anyway we can do it by bus.

Great dogfight howls from the longhouse just beyond us. That hasn't altered. (But the dogs are strictly OUTSIDE.)

Smoking is going to be a slight problem? I didn't dare throw my cigar out the window, the lawn is so neat!

This afternoon about two p.m. (after lunch) we proceeded to the school (population now 185, goes up to Primary Six with nine teachers, and no fewer than five trained! (which is incredible) to see a presentation. The current Gurkha battalion headquartered here and soon leaving, was giving a table, some chairs and 1,000 exercise books to the school and they had a full-scale Gurkha pipe band on hand. The kids answered with their band--drums and bamboo pipes and flutes--a thoroughly odd-sounding ensemble, but probably not so funny as bagpipes are to them. What a business--Gurkhas in bearskins parading around in the middle of Borneo.

The children are very handsome but girls especially very shy. Plenty of old beads on hand, and beadwork still being done.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

The old penghulu, Lawai, was at the presentation, all covered with medals. Really great. He is from Bario Longhouse--the new penghulu is not (although he is from one of the four others now settled nearby). He had no use for our idea to walk out. Why walk when you can fly?

June 4, Bario.

Last night we went to the (British) forces' officers' mess at the invitation of an artillery type named Dy Thomas, who is the local Welsh flag waver, Ancient Pistol style. It was a very civilized set-up as always. Dislike leeching off the military but I do hope to borrow a long-sleeved shirt else I'll freeze on the way out. Besides the Gurkhas (departing)--that is infantry--there are army air corps, artillery, navy (the chopper squadron) and odds and ends. Most supplies are still air-dropped in from Labuan--a Beverly [transport aircraft] was in this morning--since although the runway could be extended the ground isn't hard enough to support heavy aircraft frequently. This air drop business has been a boon locally since fuel drums can't very economically be taken out of here to be reused--the Kelabits have gobs of them and use them for everything from rice bins to water systems.

A cool, buggy night--mosquito repellent did for the latter, but one cotton blanket was not quite enough for the former. This morning, we walked over to the penghulu's house to see about getting out of here by foot. So far, so good. There will be a lot of people in tomorrow Sunday and he thinks maybe some from Pa Tik who could take us that far. The route as outlined by Mr. [Michael] Fogden (5)--and the penghulu agrees--is: Bario--Kuba'an (up to two days), to Pa Tik (one day), to Long Lellang (3 days), to Lio Mato (3-4 days). To hire guides costs $4 per day (6) per man and he says we don't have to pay their way back--he thinks it's best to get new people from each major stop.

The penghulu, formerly Ngimat Ayu, now Garawat Aran thanks to birth of a child, is very young, affects dark sunglasses and a beret constantly, has a little English but much prefers Malay. Hs is an "adopted son" of TH [Tom Harrisson] (and was preparing borak [rice beer] for when TH and Lord Shackleton (7) arrive on the 11th.) He obviously takes his job very seriously--had just been to a penghulus' conference. He does read and write at least a little. Has a very pretty, very pregnant wife. He is not from the main Bario longhouse but from a resettled 22-door house from Pa Main--moved in due to Confrontation and the advantages of settled life and sawah here--no wet rice at Pa Main, padi bukit only.

The house is now in two sections on either side of a small bay or inlet off the main Bario plain but this is temporary and they will all be together when the new house is built--a site is already selected. He is getting the army to bring belian [ironwood] for the new house from Long Banga and elsewhere by chopper--there is none in Bario (too high).

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

I asked if they had trouble getting enough land here--he said no, there was plenty for now, but they aren't so sure for the future. The lower end of the Bario plain over which we flew, largely uncleared, is apparently too swampy to farm. Nevertheless, this settlement has comfortably absorbed the four longhouse communities moved here due to Confrontation and now all are within at most 40 minutes walk of each other. Besides the penghulu's house from Pa Main, which calls itself Pa Main Bario, there was an earlier group from there--came here one year before them--known as Pa Ramapoh (on maps it's Pa Rampoh).

Then there is a house from Pa Mada (just in back of Brauk's little palace where we are ensconced)--the family of Lian Labang (of the Sarawak Museum) is there. Then there is another lot from Kuba'an. These people still have a house standing but empty at Kuba'an which is away from the border from here! Total here: about 80 doors now.

The house that was strafed by the Indonesians less than a year ago was at Pa Umor--quite close to here. Seems funny that they didn't hit Bario instead--all those fat helicopters lined up together. Maybe they feared retaliation?

Vast amounts of pineapple and other fruit around the Pa Main sections--even though they are temporary--and they have atap [thatch] shingle rather than tin roofing like the main house--the same general air of discipline and prosperity prevails. In the penghulu's house--he served us Milo while we talked--the hearths run right down the center, with bamboo cakes of the famous Kelabit salt suspended above (most of it comes from Indonesia--the best--and costs 25 cents a katty). (8) There are three-sided partitions, open toward the center, on either side of this main drag for living, sleeping etc. This house is made of materials from the old Pa Main structure which were lifted over here by helicopters! All pigs, buffaloes etc. are penned or otherwise controlled. Throughout you get the impression that these people are real farmer--and vegetable gardeners--in a way which certainly very few other natives in Sarawak are. Admittedly the environment (flat land and cool) permits it here.

We then had a lovely walk around taking pictures etc. Passed several lots of Indonesian Kelabits [Lun Dayeh] returning home for the planting season. They make up the bulk of the 100-odd labor force employed in building the new 80-hut army base here!! They make $4 a day and before they leave spend it at the co-op store, mostly for clothes--but we saw one man carrying a large dishpan on his shoulder. They don't look a bit more "traditional" than the local folk--but poorer. I suspect mission influence is as strong or stronger on that side. The huge, spotless tawa [veranda] of the main Bario longhouse of 18 doors is papered with hellfire and damnation mission propaganda, in Malay. The most hair-raising poster of all, which graphically illustrates the two paths leading to fiery damnation and eternal bliss respectively, was printed in Kalimantan Barat. (I later discovered this is a Hong Kong reprint of the Indonesian original distributed by BEM--but BEM is distinctly embarrassed by it! Excuse is that the people themselves love it.)

The education set-up is really incredible. The school (mentioned earlier) has nine teachers, five of them trained, for 190 kids, up to Primary Six. But on top of that--Kelabits make up the second most numerous group in the Marudi Secondary School after the Chinese. (There are really more of us [proportionately] than Chinese, the penghulu explained, since there are far fewer of us to begin with.) Frederick (Paran Ribu) estimates 80 Kelabits have gone to secondary school so far--the total Kelabit population according to the penghulu is 2,700. Last year 52 children at Bario school took the common entrance (to secondary school) exam and 27 passed! (Compare this with Belaga!) (9) There is a Kelabit named Henry Lian (10) at Ohio State [University] studying economics. Many of these, especially in upper grades, are from areas other than Bario. Total Bario population is 700 plus, 800 counting a somewhat more distant (one hour away) settlement at Pa Ukat which is part of the Bario "scheme" we were told. Altogether 80 doors in five houses--communities.

Linguistically--these people can understand the Murut language. "Lun Dayeh" is a blanket term which includes both Kelabits and upriver Muruts. (11)

Clearly these people have the idea of progress--getting it across, the usual bete noire of development--is no problem whatever. So much so that it is almost impossible to think of them in the headache-ridden category of the "less developed native." Why and how? J.K. Wilson would flip. (12)

They are tremendously good carpenters. There isn't a sloppy, un-solid bit of construction to be seen.

They are big people--giants by local standards. This is especially noticeable in the solid, often statuesque women. "It's the first place where I feel like a shrimp," says Barbara. Maybe it's all the vegetables in the diet--and there certainly have been plenty in ours--and a vast amount of gardening going on--or maybe veg-raising is something recent? They trade fresh fruit--pineapple--to the army for ration goodies such as some high-powered C-ration-type cookies we were served for breakfast. A 4H organizer would simply be out of work here--it really would be coals to Newcastle!

Kelabit tekonyms would be a trial. All have at least three totally different names during their lifetimes--changes occur at the birth of a first child, a grandchild and maybe others.

Just now--a church service (or rather prayer service) is underway downstairs over Frederick's young (14 months) son who had been sick but seems to be better.

Department of interesting sights--little kids playing with blowpipes! Other little boys with hair cut long--and little girls wearing necklaces of valuable old blue and yellow beads. I find the elongated ears less attractive especially on the little tots carrying around a pound (slight exaggeration) of metal rings in each.

There is evidence that the Bario co-op store has prospered partly from Indonesian trade. It comes from 1) the cross-border trade in Indonesian salt--since Malaysian dollars are presumably no good over there, anyone returning there must trade here first--get his dollars converted to goods--and 2) the Indonesian labor working on the army camp.

The Kelabit attitude toward the Malay language is wholly friendly--as it is with almost all, if not all, of the Orang Ulu of Third and Fourth Divisions. Nearly all now speak a little, while the Iban sensitivity [to the encouraged use of Malay under the new Malaysian government] is wholly lacking. Moreover it is good standard Malay with a broad "a"--no doubt much influenced by bahasa Indonesia. The first teacher at Harrisson's Pa Main school--the original Kelabit school started in '46--was in fact an Indonesian originally from East Timor who is still teaching Malay at the Bario School--his name is "Guru Paul." (We met him next day at the penghulu's for lunch--it turns out that he was originally from Pulau Roti, came to Kalimantan in 1941, and was brought here (Sarawak side) by TH to help build an airfield. Then he was a schoolteacher at Pa Main for two years--TH paid his salary for this period--before it became a government school. He speaks good standard bahasa Indonesia and says that is what he teaches the kids--or you can call it bahasa kebangsaan [national language] [which, of course, it is for both countries.]

June 5, Bario.

There is a constant breeze here which as much as the coolness makes the climate delightful.

Last night Frederick put on a party for us. It turns out they are not teatotalers after all! Borak, beer and whiskey and brandy--some of it supplied by army guests but most by our hosts. God knows where all the $ comes from. It was a fun evening terminating with a variety of dancing--the British army types (also navy and air force) have caught on to some of the local steps very well. As usual our lack of twist skill was painfully apparent. Learn your native dances before you go abroad.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

This morning Freda came by and took us over to see the old penghulu's jars, after a chit-chat. He (Lawai) is [an] old rogue with a great twinkle in his eye and a throaty, wicked chuckle. The jars were in a sort of side room, somewhat discolored by malaria spray--really only two big brown tajaus with dragons in rather higher relief than the usual Dayak [Iban] specimens, plus some smaller, rounder jars also with dragons. The slightly smaller, darker of the big ones used to eat children--anyway they disappeared and blood was found on its rim--until someone broke a big chip out of the rim which made it harmless. You could see the old man feels very strongly about his jars. I asked if he had any plates and he said no, TH had taken them all to the Museum together with some other big jars--this with a definitely reproachful tone! Also said TH wanted to take some of the other jars but Lawai wouldn't let him. His wife is a lovely old figure, still with jet-black hair.

Then we attended the BEM [Borneo Evalegelical Mission] church service held on the huge, broad-plank floored tawa. l expected a marathon session but it was very short and straightforward--three hymns, a scripture reading, a very short sermon delivered by a young, very modern style (catechist?) named Tiri--he may be our guide from Pa Tik. [He was not but we met him at Pa Tik--see below.] Aside from him nearly all the pillars of the church are the most traditionally attired people, including TH's friend Lawn Nibu [? Lawan?] who read some of the prayers. The whole longhouse attended but the vast tawa still looked quite empty. Undoubtedly this Bario longhouse has about four times as much space per person as the average Iban or Ulu Rejang Kayan establishment--it is just vast.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

I created one distraction by taking pictures, but didn't feel too bad since a bunch of kids were running hilarious footraces up and down the veranda throughout a good bit of the service--no one minds. After it was over the Upriver Agent made an announcement--the district officer is coming up; all tuah kampongs [literally, 'village'; in this case 'longhouse headmen'] will please be on hand. Also a photographer is coming up to take identity card pictures. Then there was a good bit of talk about people washing above the point where water has been diverted from a small stream into the longhouse for drinking purposes: this is not approved of, but apparently some people had been doing it anyway.

Then we walked over to the new penghulu's house for lunch (the service was just Bario Longhouse--each of the five has its own service). There was a family there from Indonesia and we had quite a chat. Their home is at Long Rungan where there are two houses of five and eight doors. The man--quite young--had been here to work for only a few weeks. He called himself a Lun Dayeh--but added that he was, of course, the same as the local Kelabits. Hair European style like all the Indonesian lot we've seen. Can reach their home in two days from here pushing hard. Asked if the government knew they came here--said normally yes--you are supposed to get a pass from the [Indonesian] army! (or a permit). If you stay longer than the time allowed, they will take away half your barang when you return. So he just told his headman and not the army this time.

They have a "private school" at their longhouse--up to three years. Their children go to Pa Upan where there is a "government school," six hours away. At Tarakan, two hours by boat, (13) there is an SMA (Sekolah Menenga Atas--senior middle school)--there are children from the area there but none from his longhouse. Said none had gone to university outside--people are too poor for that and the government doesn't pay their way. (Note of surprise that I even suggested such a thing.)

They have two types of Christians--two different missions. There is only [one] European left that he knows of--one "Tuan Putu" at Long Bia--doesn't know his nationality but he's been there for a long time.

This afternoon we moved over to Freda's place, home of councilor Raja Ngatan, now in the U.K. on a brief stay of some sort. Shortly before, our army friend Hugh Welby-Everard came over with a message--we are not allowed to go to Kuba'an but they might be able to get us a chopper ride to Pa Tik--this would be OK--we'd be well on our way to Long Lellang which is the place we'd really like to see. This means we won't need guides from here--we apologized to the Penghulu.

The Kuba'an folk who resettled here left behind an empty house--there is a "jungle force" there--Gurkhas and European officers--and plainly something they don't want seen. This restriction has nothing to do with Indonesians. Even local people are not allowed to spend the night at Kuba'an although they are allowed to walk through without stopping. All very mysterious. (14) Maybe they have a secret weapon--super Gurkhas? From all accounts the ordinary ones are super enough. Anyway we have to see the Battalion IO (Information Officer?) in the morning and maybe he will clarify matters. The Army has been very good to us. Main friends: Hugh Welby-Everard, 129 Lt. Battery RA BFPO 628; Capt Dy Thomas, 38 Lt. Battery RA BFPO 605 (which is here--the other is in Kuching).

Rice here is all single-cropped. They grow a six-month maturing strain. No doubt they could double crop with new strains if population growth ever demanded it--at present it doesn't. The planting season is August.

The main Bario longhouse is only two years old. The people worked together on it--moving from one bilek [family room] to the next. This explains the uniform construction of Kelabit houses in contrast to the sloppy individuality of Iban building. And it bears repeating that the carpentry is always excellent.

June 6, Bario.

Barbara has developed a slight tummy ache so we turned down a chopper ride to Pa Tik--we will do it tomorrow or the next day depending on when something leaves. Not well to be out in the boonies unless all is definitely well.

Choice bit of gossip--we heard that TH had a Kelabit wife. She still lives here. He wanted her to go to Kuching at one point but ordered that she must wear Kelabit dress--she didn't want to--so here she is. Feelings here on the subject of TH are decidedly mixed.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

Lovely red and black baskets here are entirely made on the Indonesian side.

The next day we left for Pa Tik. We were sorry to leave Bario in such a rush. The last night we had a lovely chat with Freda's "Auntie" Sina Napong Aran (which just means wife of Napong Aran). She is a good authority on damn near everything--the daughter of the penghulu who preceded Lawai and his ex-sister-in-law (that wife died and Lawai's current spouse is new). She is an old friend of Tom Harrisson's--about whom she also has mixed feelings--regards him as a man of unreasonable suspicions and unpredictable rages--fair enough. Told how at one great party she plastered him on the head with buffalo dung, whereupon he threw her in the river--"things always used to be like that"--but having been a rip-roaring pagan she is now an equally thorough Christian and never misses a prayer meeting or a grace before a meal. Told how he (TH) used to fly into rages when people cut their hair short or had their ears sewed up, or became Christians which all did sooner or later. Of course TH's influence against the missions has been nil. It is true incidentally that he never learned to speak the [Kelabit] language--if he had even a little they would have credited it as this always makes an impression.

Big excitement about five a.m. a buffalo fight! For awhile we were afraid they'd knock the house over. One belonged to Ngalawan Raja, Frederick's father-in-law, who most indignantly claimed his buffalo had been attacked! Huge snortings and cavortings and lots of longhaired Kelabits running around under the house ineffectually prodding at the combatants with long poles. They finally broke it off more or less of their own accord. Freda gave a running translation during--as from N. Raja--"if he does this again I'll shoot the s.o.b." or words to that effect. If it had been my house I'd have been sorely tempted to shoot something or someone. Auntie's flowers which surround the house miraculously survived with only minor damage.

Auntie also confirmed what I suspected--that the present Bario wet paddy plots are indeed far larger than the traditional Kelabit ones which were little squares only--these are quite a respectable size.

She says formerly they didn't grow more than a few vegetables--no coffee until quite recently--in other words most of the agriculture is Progress indeed.

She doesn't understand why Europeans come and go so much. And why the ones who really get to know the country always leave. Also voiced fears--echoed by another young visitor--about consequences of the end of "colonialism." She said the others (Chinese and Malays) are not patient (sabar) with us, as the Europeans are.

The Kelabits are happy enough in their green little nest at Bario but they fear for the future.

It is well realized that the full withdrawal of the [British] Army would be a disaster. Hopefully that won't come for a while and then not all at once. The military have been a bonanza--jobs, a market for fruit, etc., a source of scrounged everything from chopper rides (numerous) to oil drums. The Border Scouts are another positive aspect of Konfrontasi. There are five from Pa Tik, where I am writing. Pay starts at $150 [fifty US$ at the time] and a sergeant gets $250. That is pretty damn good for hereabouts.

June 7, Pa Tik (Ulu Tutoh). [including a flashback to our last day in Bario]

We dropped in here about 11 this morning--over the last blue-green ridge and there it was far below. Another inside-an-Easter egg scene. But this time only one longhouse of 14 doors and far further off the beaten path than anything we've seen [elsewhere] in Sarawak. The setting is alpine--gorgeous--though the actual elevation is only about 1,500 ft. and the cool of Bario is somewhat lacking. About half these people were resettled here from Kuba'an two years ago. They have both wet and dry rice--all but three doors have some sawah [wet rice] and they are building more--with quite impressive terracing--I watched this afternoon. It is a real gotong rojong [self-help] operation. Good to see they actually do happen. These people are in a temporary longhouse

but quite solid, and the same air of Kelabit thoroughness and efficiency prevails--although things in general are more primitive than at either Bario or Long Lellang. The TK [tuah kampong] figures we can get people to go with us to Long Lellang as it is the pig hunting season. He reckons three nights out.

In addition to misty mountain vistas there is a lovely clear stream to bathe in, with big boulders in it--and pools deep enough for real over-your-head swimming even now when the water is low.

Aren't choppers lovely? Our RN [Royal Navy] Wessex (machine W--"whiskey") took five minutes to cover what takes three days by foot! There is actually an air strip here--the people of Pa Tik built it themselves so the mission could fly in--but the mission now comes once every few months--"if needed." Doesn't seem like they're getting their labor's worth. Shortly after we were delivered--our flight was on its way to mysterious Kuba'an--an army light aircraft took off and landed again. Apparently they use the strip to practice on.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

The Pa Tik people are decidedly pukka Kelabits. The headman, Lapong Bala, wears a chawat [loincloth], bemedaled penghulu-type shirt, and a lovely orangish bearskin (?) hat or cap. There is another even more picturesque character named Dapat Aran (our host here--his son is Tiri, who preached at Bario)--who claims to be related to Tom Harrisson's Kelabit wife. Michael Fogden and Lian Labang [a Museum employee] were here and went down the Tutoh. It took them four weeks to reach Marudi including a week's wait for water to go down at Long Magoh (I think). Dapat Aran and his wife were eager to have their pictures taken. [see result above] She is almost as good as he is, with a lovely big string of old green-blue beads. My guess, purely from the color, is that they are Persian in origin. (15)

It will be three nights in the woods from here to Long Lellang, we are told. But for all but one night there are huts of some sort already built. A sulap [lean-to] must be made only on the last night out. [Wrong, as things turned out.]

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

June 8, Long Ar (enroute to Long Lellang). (16)

At the end of the first of what may be three days of hiking, or four, in the woods--there are no longhouses enroute--our guide-bearers are Dapat Aran, another Kelabit from Pa Tik, Naka Ulun, and a young Penan named Tengong Na who speaks only a little Kelabit plus his own language. We are in a rather flimsy lean-to and hope it doesn't rain hard. The Penan and Naka Ulun have gone off hunting pigs and Dapat Aran is puttering around. Far overhead a largish aircraft is circling--we can't see it for forest--making air drops somewhere? Kuba'an?

So this was our introduction to all the joys of real jungle life including leeches--there were plenty of them, but after the first few you don't mind so much--as Michael Fogden said it's mostly the idea that bothers, plus the bloody ones in one's shoes. It was a rather easy day--we didn't leave until 9:30 after endless preparation. My (our) backpack was divided into two loads and itself ignominiously carried in a Kelabit basket.

The Penan and Naka Ulun have just returned with a lovely string of fish and large amount of leaves which may fortify our rather inadequate roof?.

The route today was amazingly level, up the river that Pa Tik is on, over what seemed to be a considerable width of riverside bench land most of the way, through not very large jungle. Dapat Aran said that this had all been farmed at a time when the local population was much larger before epidemics cut it down. That ties in with Tom Harrisson's theory. It is certainly all empty now.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

We stopped at around 1:30. Tomorrow we may push for a somewhat longer day but today it didn't seem wise to push it. Barbara's Gurkha jungle boots were a good bit of scrounging--they pretty well keep the leeches out which my excellent tennis shoes don't although they are super in every other respect. One can see Fogden's point that the main trouble is getting them [our guides] to hurry up enough. We probably could have made Pa Labid without killing ourselves. [Wrong again.]

Dapat Aran also told us with a great tone of approval about TH's campaign to get the Kelabits to keep their hair long etc.--how he would get angry when someone cut off their long ears. He is very proud of his own tiger teeth ear ornaments--actually spotted [clouded] leopard? we bought a very nice pair last night from the Pa Tik tuah kampong for $30--probably exorbitant--he wanted $40.

June 9, Long Labid.

Long Labid means 'The mouth of the Labid.' Pa Labid means 'the river Labid' and is the origin of the name "Kelabit."

A rather harder walk today. We left Long Ar at 7:00 and didn't drag in here until 4:00--enough for the Pringles you bet! The first bit was hard climbing out of one watershed, then down another tributary of the Tutoh, first rather rough going often through stream beds large and small, then over a rather flattish riverside bench land stretch. Through damp, dark forest all the way. Leeches worse than yesterday. I really got chewed, but as long as they don't get infected it's really only a nuisance.

Here at Long Labid there is a substantial kubu [stockade; it also means 'fort' in a more formal sense]--on stilts, about 20 by 30', with a good solid roof, built for traveling district officers. In the old days government officials traveled part way from Long Lellang to Pa Tik by boat and this was one end of the boat stretch which went up the Tutoh from here to just opposite Long Lellang, then by foot across into the Akah drainage. We'll have to walk the whole bit. According to Dapat Aran they used to keep a boat here. He explained, and it is clearly true, that since there has been air service to Bario, the government is no longer ordering the Kelabits to keep these trails up and they have gotten into an awful state of disrepair--it really will be unpleasant in two or three years.

We've got our guides sorted out. Dapat Aran (Gramps) is a bit vain and somewhat undependable--he told us the walk from Ra'an Bui to here was two hours, when in fact it was twelve! [His version may have true for a Kelabit?] The other Kelabit [Naka Ulun] is more considerate and dependable and has been consistently helpful. The young Penan--who we reckon can't be more than fifteen--stays very much in the background but, as might be expected, he is very competent at this sort of work and sturdy as a rock.

Our diet is rice, cooked each evening and eaten cold at breakfast and midday. Up to now we've had smoked pork (from wild pig) carried in bamboo containers--really good stuff--for noon, and fish caught each day for evening. Gramps got a big one today. You can see why these people are healthy. We haven't had a protein-less meal in Kelabit country. Hot meals in the evening only.

Pity the poor peasant in his shack--until you don't have a shack even--then any shack--such as this one--looks ridiculously luxurious. What bliss to be above the ground merely, in these parts. Last night, on small logs, too close to earth for comfort, looked to be a bad one. But it rained only after about seven, thank God. And we got a fairly good sleep although you had to turn over every half hour to exchange one set of knobby lumps for another. Tomorrow may be the least comfortable of all.

Minor discomforts today--leeches on the testicles! Twice. Horrendous little buggers--black with yellow stripes. Our guides smear themselves with mosquito repellent--and that plus bare feet keeps them to a minimum. Barb's Gurkha boots are cleverly constructed so the lace holes lead nowhere. My tennis shoes once again proved hopeless with leeches, but comfy for walking even when wet.

June 10, Ra'an Salam.

Today started inauspiciously with a hair-raising wade across a swollen Sungai Labid--it rained hard last night for about two hours, tho in our little kubu we slept well. After the wade however things went well enough--the trail was no worse than yesterday after all--a longish flattish stretch, albeit with the usual abundance of quagmire, rotten slimy logs over streams, windfalls, etc. Then a good stiff climb and descent--into the main Tutoh again here at Ra'an Salam. We are in a paddy barn with a good solid roof, so nothing to fear in case of rain. The Tutoh is already quite a respectable river here.

There is an old longhouse site (across the river)--people who have since moved to Long Lellang, which Gramps says we should reach by midday. Total walking time to here about nine and a half hours--that includes the usual stops plus a rather longer one about 2 pm to eat fruit--the orange-brown kind, about apple size, with rather thick spongy find--you split the whole thing open to get at the segments inside. Good and welcome--as that portable rice really is too dull to face alone and we've run out of pork. Did have some fish left over from yesterday for lunch.

Today we had a prayer meeting before leaving--wondered what it was all about--Gramps explained later it was to ask God to help with the pig hunting. He and Naka Ulun have been taking turns going ahead to look for pigs but had no luck yesterday--and apparently God is on the side of the pigs because they didn't have any luck today either. The Penan joined in although since he doesn't have a shotgun he doesn't hunt and--perhaps as the youngest--gets stuck with the heaviest load and the larger end of the K.P. [kitchen] chores.

A couple of showers along the way. We encountered one good flock of monkeys --they went crashing off through the trees making a great Bandar Log din [cf. Rudyard Kipling's Jungle Books].

This place (Ra'an Salam) is well-equipped--there is a boat, and a fishing net, some pineapple planted around. The boat is mainly to get across the Tutoh which is well beyond wading--haven't figured out how we'll get the boat back here once across. And Gramps found a whole basket full of pork rinds in the attic--the answer to his prayers. Anyway they were very good after being toasted over the coals, together with some large grass-like vegetable. These people do eat greenery whenever it is available. There is also a little kerosene and a lamp which Naka Ulun has just set up for me to finish writing by. He has been the hero of the trip--unfailingly kind and helpful--he helped both Barb and I across that river this morning, and then the Penan as well, who apparently does not swim.

Dapat Aran has a message to Tom Harrisson. Sends greetings etc. Hopes he will visit them from Bario. He ordered them to make a padang [a field or open space for community activities]--they have done so. Dapat Aran would like it very much if he would also send them a wireless such as Long Lellang has, for admin purposes. (He also expressed a wish for a sawmill the other day)--and the tuah kampong would like some machinery so the people would not have to build sawahs by hand.) They would also like some of their young men to go to school in Australia.

Total cost [of our] walk, Pa Tik to Long Lellang: 6 days' wages 3 men = $72 + 3 = M$75 (no change). [about US$25]

June 12, (Sunday) Long Lellang.

This place is all that [US Peace Corps Volunteer] Dick Goldman said it was. It is quite extraordinary how people living in such extreme isolation, at the head of one of the most difficult navigable rivers in Sarawak, should have so lifted themselves by their bootstraps. It was the older generation, who were themselves raised in 100% Kelabit style, who have achieved this. I wonder if the younger ones--the ones who are now at Bario and Marudi and Miri in school--will be able to keep the ball rolling. Or will the inevitable (?) period of culture shock and dismay set in? So far there are certainly no signs of this.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

You have to see this to get the mission business in perspective. Unattractive as the Bible thumpers may be [to some educated westerners], they have given people a faith essential to life in such circumstances at a time when the old religion was clearly no longer a possible alternative. The new religion is identified with progress--which inevitably means what is unfairly labeled as "westernization." It is this" which these people wanted and which they have geared their whole lives to achieve--the record in education is just one symptom. A Bungan (17)-type reformation of the old ways, which essentially caters to a conservative drive, would not have filled the bill, I don't think.

Long Lellang, 20 plus doors, is the closest we've seen to a real old-style Kelabit house as described by TH--at least at the older, wealthier end of the spectrum. It is 14 years old, although I believe additional sections have been added. The Long Lellang people think the Bario longhouse is very odd indeed, with its tawa in the center, bilek [family rooms] and dapur [kitchens] on either side. Most of the doors here retain the basic old style set-up with a single long partition (pipih) [wall] down the middle only, and no real division between the bileks within, although now there are partitions. The effect is like a double tawa--one outside and one within through the middle of the living quarters. We are lodged in a unique loft over our host's section of the tawa.

Huge excitement--choppers just sighted--thought to be coming to pick up two British Army SAS "Special Air Service" men who have been over here hearts-and-mindsing. The whole longhouse goes charging out to the padang--small child abandoned in the rush crying loudly. But it was a false alarm--they were Whirlwinds (RAF) not the navy Wessex types expected--and passed right over.

Barbara has just gone to the women's church service, which is separate from and precedes the full-scale joint service--ten and eleven a.m. respectively. One of the local women is leading it.

After the main service--it was a full hour this time--longer than Bario. Again the service shared by about four people--the man who gave the sermon, obviously a professional (a Lun Bawang, it turns out, from Lawas District), lots of preaching mannerisms, dramatic pause and beatific smile. Occasional bouts of scripture in Malay. Many references to Sodom and Gommorah.

I suppose the very simplicity (no priestly hierarchy, minimum of training and maximum of lay participation) is one secret of Evangelism's success in these parts. It has enabled the church to become a truly local affair with the utmost speed--whereas the [Roman] Catholics will obviously be dependent on Europeans far longer. None of the people we've seen conducting services has had more than a couple of years in Lawas [the missionary training center] and none has had any English. And a great deal of the prayer reading etc. is done by laymen. All can participate.

Barbara observes also that the mission has either not tried or not succeeded in ramming too much foolishness down the throats of the Kelabits. None of the SDA [Seventh Day Adventist] foolishness about not working on Saturday--a hideous inconvenience for students and government people etc. The drinking-smoking ban--if indeed smoking is banned--is observed with a degree of laxness. At Bario, as we've seen, some people do drink. Here drinking appears to be out. When the tuah kampong gave a party the other night for the two British soldiers currently here they drank coffee (not borak) out of a huge old Chinese jar! And we had a little dancing last night on nothing stronger than Milo. It didn't seem to dampen anyone's spirits at all.

The hymns are rather dolorous--but so is all traditional Kelabit music [that we've heard] and the old songs have survived--at least something [of them]. We heard a tape last night of some Border Scouts singing a headhunter's ditty, full of typical Kelabit good-humored exaggeration. Sunday, the day of rest, is not absolute. There have been three church services or prayer meetings thus far, but also lots of minor puttering around the house--fixing up the chicken wire which totally surrounds the pig-less, chicken-less underspaces, or bringing in armloads of rotan [rattan] for mat-making. The Long Lellang mats, made of a special type of rotan abundant here, are justly famous and are traded from here all over the Baram. This is man's work--the big mats--done mainly on the tawa, sell for $40 for an average mat--one month spare time work.

The current Long Lellang population was resettled here from four different sites, before the war [World War II], by the Brooke Baram District Officer, Hudden, who was later killed by a mixed group of Penans and Ibans in the Ulu Baram during the war. The reason [for the resettlement] was pure administrative convenience, apparently. This means the old longhouse we stayed near at Ra'an Salam is more than 25 years old.

Shortly after we got here yesterday--around noon--we went over and saw the Long Lellang headman, Bala Ribu, who has a spacious establishment of his own built separate from the main house. Chit-chat about things in general. You get the impression that the people here are a little fed up with being at the headwaters of the Akah, even though it may have made them the best boat builders in Sarawak. At one point he remarked that "it's only throwing away money" to use engines up the Akah--so great are the risks. The alternative land route--land to Long Salt and then down the Baram--is almost as attractive despite the two-day walk. It takes more than 20 gallons of gas to make it from Long Akah [upstream] to here. Only five or six gallons to go down.

Besides the school there is a separate church or prayer-house here (connected by a walkway to the tawa)--also a rumah sakit [clinic]--though no dresser--a new one from this house is being trained in Marudi, and one of the army men who is a medic reports he found the stock of drugs untended and in a complete shambles. Also good teachers' quarters but Glenn Lisah, our host, an early BLTC [Batu Lintang Training College] grad, prefers to live in the longhouse in Henry's old bilek (Henry has moved to Bario where we met him. Henry's wife is his--Glenn's--niece. Ditto Freda and Raja Ngatan's wife.) The school is up on a big hill in back of the longhouse--it has two storeys, goes up to Primary Four, and two teachers. Then kids go on to Bario (where there are about twenty from Long Lellang) then to Marudi secondary where there are ten plus and eventually maybe to Tanjong Lobang [in Miri] where there are now two from here.

It turns out that our young Penan guide from Pa Tik, Tengong Na, has a brother in school at Pa Tik. The local Penan situation is weird. According to all info, all Baram Penans are now Christians, including those further downstream. The mission, headquartered in Lawas, has worked hard at it in this area--preaches to them in Penan. Government pays the Kelabits to board them [while attending the Long Lellang school]--$10 per month per student--this is supposed to include some clothing as well as room and board--it is paid to the host families. Efforts continue to get them to settle down. We should see some at Long Sait where there are also Kenyahs, and between here and there as well. This lad, Tengong Na, has worked for a Chinese timber firm at Long Seridan.

The army boys have a low opinion of the Penans--say they are generally poor physical specimens, diseased, dirty, etc. They hang around Kelabit houses in this area and do odd jobs--get all their trade goods, etc. through the Kelabits. How much this point of view reflects Kelabit bias--and like all longhouse folk they are highly condescending about the nomads--I don't know. Certainly many of the Ulu Rejang lot are fine physical specimens. (18)

Last night a Penan came here with news that a man had injured himself--head wound from a stick of timber, while boat building. It turns out that this was a Kelabit from Long Lellang who created a local scandal by marrying a Penan girl and--told he couldn't bring her to the longhouse--moved into the Penan settlement--about 1 1/2 hours fast walk from here, where he now lives in his own Kelabit-style house. One of the Army boys--Bryan--immediately left with the Penan who brought the news to see how bad he really was--if very bad they would have radioed for a chopper to evacuate him for medical treatment. As it turned out he only had a bad cut. The Penan who brought the message was healthy enough looking, with a mouth full of gold teeth. Youngish kid.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

Little side benefits of Confrontation--the army maintains caches of chopper fuel at various jungle outposts for emergencies. It is really just refined kerosene--great for lamps. It goes bad after a few months--"unserviceable"-- and since it must all be air dropped they give the old stuff away to the locals! Distribute it around.

The cattle here--there are a half dozen or so running around--were all brought down from Bario--led!! over those trails!! School kids also come here by foot from Bario on vacations--takes 6 days! They do it alone--so we are told--except if the river is high at Pa Labid--where we had our deep wade--in which case someone goes to meet them there.

June 13, (Monday).

Rain today--and all last night as well. Glad we decided not to push on.

Last night we played the ring game--a new Kelabit tradition. It begins with all the children in the house trooping up and down the tawa singing--everything from hymns to Red River Valley, sometimes by pairs, sometimes to the slow single-file dance we did at Bario. This goes on for about an hour. Then everyone sits in a circle holding a piece of string with a ring on it--the one who's "it" has to stand in the middle and try to figure out who's got the ring--if they succeed in grabbing the string and trapping the ring the person who has it at the time is then "it" and goes to the center. All this to singing. Fred and Bryan are old hands at it. This went on till well after midnight with late breaks for popcorn and bananas.

All this followed an exhibition of dancing (ngajat) by the school kids who are taught this--much hilarity at the expense of the less skilled.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

There are 17 Penan kids here in the school, boarding (see above). Aside from the fact that they are bigger (older) there seems to be a distinct physical difference. They look Chinese--rounder, flatter faces than the Kelabit kids.

Whenever one of them danced, we were inevitably notified that this was an "orang penan." There is no doubt that they are accorded near untouchable status by the Kelabit. The kids are definitely less well dressed. It's a good thing there is not any marked color difference.

Gramps et al. departed back for Pa Tik this morning after farewells all around. He came up to our attic nook and repeated his plea for wireless, dresser and school at their place. Old rogue. Also would still like another watch to replace the one he lost en route. The local folk think this is very preposterous-funny.

This afternoon Barbara taught everyone how to play shuffleboard using her walking stick with a cross piece nailed on it and ajar lid. This was a great hit--four hours later the kids were still playing. The tawa floor is beautifully finished considering it's all hand work--nice smooth broad planks. Which with all the rain coming down people have been scrubbing all day--lots of water available.

We were told at breakfast that people here frequently farm only once in two years since they have no trouble getting enough for two years in one crop--and no way to sell the surplus. Of course there is lots of land here--gobs. Normal fallow period is six to seven years. If so, it must be true--as they claim--that the land is not only plentiful but good [soil] as well. There is a good bit of fairly level stuff hereabouts--for example, no trouble building a mission landing strip near the longhouse--yet only one sawah [rain-irrigated rice field] just being made now. Clearly there is no need if they can do this well on hill padi. The terms lading [unirrigated, slash-and-burn hill rice field] and sawah are used here instead of the Iban padi bukit and padi paya. (And of course with the Kelabit a sawah is more than just a boggy spot worked the same way as a hill plot would be.)

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

Case in point. Glenn's family first farmed four years ago. Just two people--his father and mother-in-law--made the ladang. They got enough rice to last six or seven years--still have two granaries full--feeding a family of nine.

This is highly unusual, except here. At the moment in the Baram there is widespread padi shortage from Lio Mato down. "Those people are fanning every year and they never have any rice." (19)

Our last night at Long Lellang featured a farewell feast for us and the two soldiers held on the tawa. The main dish was a "house pig" shot with one of the SAS men's Armalites for the occasion--not nearly as good as the wild pig! "Auntie"--our real hostess--Freda's Aunt--gave Barbara some nice beads--so with what we bought we are well-beaded up.

June 14, (Tuesday), Penan "Sulap" Sungai Lellang.

An easy three-hour walk here from Long Lellang--which by the way is not at the mouth of the Lellang at all, but at Long Datih. Comparatively level, well kept up trail. No doubt much of this land could be used. Our guides were Maia Raja (older man), Nubong Raja (in photo with kids) plus a girl.

It is plain that these Penans are suffering from the effects of painful transition from nomadism to settled status. Coming on to this settlement with our three Kelabit guides was like going from the big plantation house to visit the black workers down on sharecroppers' row in the old American South. These people have been settled here for about five years--are growing some rice--and living in what can only be described as two large shacks. Between them is a smaller shack--a church! There is also a separate lean-to shelter for the dogs.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

They have all been BEM for some years. It is certainly the most primitive settlement we've seen in Sarawak and there is an air of distinct depression. Dogs, cats, and at least one small pig frequent the house. A good deal of what may be skin disease or just plain dirt. There are eight families here this figure may include the strayed Kelabit who married a Penan girl mentioned above--he is here. They still spend a good deal of their time in the jungle gathering jangkar [a kind of wild rubber?] etc. They are making blowpipes for use as well as for sale although they have some shotguns.

The attitude of our Kelabit guides is a mixture of amused and appalled condescension toward these poor neighbors although they are polite enough. They trade with them and give them cast-off mats and work to do, and of course a number of kids from here are in the school at Long Lellang although not all by any means. They speak Penan--most of the Penans do not for the most part speak Kelabit. We passed a number of their lean-tos along the trail to here. There is a distinct physical difference--they are smaller, with rounder faces and sharper features, and are quite unlike our Penan Lusong friends on the Rejang side.

The larger of the houses, which we are in, has two bilek compartments walled off in the very center surrounded by a rough, plank-floored platform. One side of this only has three hearths. There is another family living space--no more than 8 by 12 feet--in one corner. The smaller house lacks the center bilek--just one big room. I couldn't determine how many families were in it. There seem to be lots of kids although we've been told the Penans aren't multiplying. Little boys in chawat and long hair.

We will stay here [Sungai Lellang] overnight and go on to Long Sait tomorrow.

We are carrying various letters for people up and down the Baram.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

Nubong Raja says all the Penans in the Baram speak the same language. None of the ones here speak any Malay. It is the first time we have been completely cut off from direct communication with people.

I photographed an old Penan lady coming in from the jungle with a largish monkey, a pet. It later turns out that she has another pet--a huge (I'd estimate 800 lbs.) wild boar which she breast-fed as a piglet, apparently let go to roam when he got too big--but he returns to be fed every evening. Everyone else is scared stiff of this monster--he showed up just at twilight--and we were constantly warned not to go out without a large stick to whack him with.

There was a prayer service this morning, before dawn. The interior of that pathetic little lean-to church lighted by a burning brand--damar [wild resin] maybe. These people do not, so far as we could see, have even a single kerosene lantern.

June 15. Long Salt.

A six-hour walk here today--good trail but the first bit was very hilly and about the most tiring walk we've had as we went from river to river. Finally culminating in a long, more gentle descent down Sungai Sait toward the Selungo on which Long Sait is located. It is quite a bit lower here and noticeably hotter. We are out of Kelabit country all right.

On the way over we passed numerous sulaps--lean-tos--of Penans, one of which still had families in it. They are constructed just large enough to hold three adults plus cooking pots, varying baskets etc., bamboo tubes of this and that--there can't be a bit of spare floor space left over. The last lot we passed was from S. Krong where there is another semi-permanent base--but not as solid even as S. Lellang.

No one seems to know how many families there are here at L. Sait--banyak --[many]. I'd say maybe ten. There is a tuah kampong although they've been here only two years. These people are plainly a good bit ahead of the [Sungai] Lellang lot--more amenities and a few boats around (some Kelabits also keep a boat here and there are Kenyahs from Lio Mato farming here). We passed a Penan hill rice plot on the way in--felled but not yet burned--ENORMOUS trees. The last bit of walk, by the way, was the first consistently big, majestic forest we've seen on the trip--this is the stuff these people are teething on to grow their first rice.

However, the meal we got after our arrival consisted of obi kayu--cassava --dipped in minyak babi--wild pig lard which the Penan make and sell to the Kelabits. Pure starch dipped in lard! It is a good, sweet-smelling lard alright. At Sungai Lellang it appeared people were living entirely on cassava. Nubong Raja says there isn't much wild sago around there. All in all, it appears that efforts to push them into rice cultivation haven't yet paid off enormously.

More blowpipe making here--and also more mat making--the famous black-and-white Penan mats--although I fail to see what all the noise is about. They make them with diamond-shaped patterns--black squares alternating with white and black and white mixed. The typical Rejang pattern--see our basket which Benedict Sandin called tongkat langit--is nowhere in evidence.

The government wanted to collect all the Penans at L. Sait according to Nubong Raja--but they don't want to, no doubt because the hunting and gathering which is still their mainstay would suffer badly.

Tomorrow we hope a couple of the Kenyah farming here will paddle us to Lio Mato.

All trails beyond L. Lellang--beyond Ra'an Salam in fact--have been much better good in fact.

Kids from here are in school at L. Lellang. A total of three only from L. Salt in school--two at L. Lellang and one at Lio Mato.

June 16, Lio Mato.

The Penans of L. Salt have no radios--not even one. There are about six families there--maybe the same at L. Krong. A young, bright-seeming kid conducted morning and evening church services in the room where we slept. Roof partly sheet tin provided by government when they "settled."

We paid our Kelabits--$48 for the two days including their return trip--that's at $4 per day per man (or girl). They were very good guides--Nubong Raja in particular a rock--and always cheerful. They gave us leaf-wrapped packages of rice and left about 6:30 this morning, well before we did. Before this, the previous eve, N. Raja had gotten us in touch with some Badang Kenyahs--some of about 200 who are farming in S. Selungo--and we arranged for a ride down. Left about 8:30 after a chat with the Kenyah tuah kampong--I'm not sure if he's head of the local people who live in solid farm houses while working here--or of his own Baram longhouse 20 minutes below Lio Mato.

He is a Nyamo' Kenyah named William Nyagong--seemed very sharp indeed--and young. We rented his prahu--$20 a day-paddled by two Badangs--eldest rather reminiscent of Dapat Aran, named Belulok. They had an easy go of it down the Selungo--a delightful little river about Entabai sized-water nice and high as it rained hard all last night--harmless fun little rapids--bright sun alternating with cool spots with water dripping from trees. Took only about two hours to reach the kuala--but the Baram was raging high and it took two hours of poling, paddling and clutching at bank rocks, bushes, stumps, etc. to make it to Lio Mato--distance certainly not over two miles. God what a job getting around this country must have been before outboards.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

Lio Mato is gorgeous--a classic hand-hewn kubu [fort] set on a hill overlooking the rapids-filled converging sections of the Baram, with high hills beyond--a Badang longhouse about ten minutes walk down on the same (left) side. Airfield across river but choppers land in the schoolyard. One came in shortly after we did and disgorged a squad of Gurkhas plus Border Scouts--they vanished and another smaller helicopter then landed and unloaded a Gurkha (not British) officer--really a character--he seemed mildly astonished to see us but too busy to be concerned.

The first person we met was the school headmaster, Tony Ngau Jalong from whom we literally begged a meal--he lives with his boarders but feeds at the home of the ulu dresser--which is just off the kubu. The kubu is a real upriver period piece, largely empty, and we are in a large top-floor room with gorgeous views looking up the Baram out of the gun ports. Steep hills on either side going down, but with patches of burned but not yet felled hill rice clearing. Lots of cassava around--the clearings we saw close up looked really worn out.

However the school is a magnificent operation more than 145 kids, 114 boarders from up and down river, all very neatly laid out--the best feeding and rooming accommodation we've seen in such a situation--the whole set-up miles ahead of Belaga in facilities and flavor--they go up to Primary Six here. One of Tony's teachers is a Sarawak junior from Tanjong Lobang. There is only one trained teacher.

All the males here--except the headmaster--seem to have their hair still cut long--including the URA [Upriver Agent], the ulu dresser, and virtually all the little Kenyah school kids who are cute as buttons.

June 17, (Friday) Lio Mato.

A lovely morning here with mist slowly lifting on the mountains. Surely this must be the most beautiful government post in Sarawak. Thejamban ]outhouse] we are using behind the kubu has a breathtaking view upriver!

Last night we went over to the longhouse, which is Badang Kenyah, actually two longhouses in parallel with a splendid house separate off one end for the penghulu, Tama Bulan, six minutes walk from our kubu accommodations. The longhouse is solid but definitely dark and dirty compared to the Kelabit set-ups. Very few people are here at the moment--many at the farms we passed coming down Sungai Selongo. Two traders are up from Long Akah for the tamu (although no sign of the Penans yet)--one Chinese and one a Kenyah, a brother of the Temenggong [Oyong Lawai Jau] (maybe an "alibaba" arrangement). Their reps had goods spread out at either end of the veranda. We hope to get a ride to Long Akah with one of them, hopefully by Monday or so.

We are being fed by the family of the ulu dresser, chipping in tinned stuff bought from the L. Akah traders. These people are all BEM like the Kelabits and L. Lellang--L. Sait Penans. Roman Catholicism doesn't begin until around Long Moh going downriver. There are some Bungan there (middle Baram) as well--and some houses half Catholic, half Bungan according to Tony. Barbara stayed in the kubu--probably prompted by my arrival, there was a little dancing--the same procession walking around the passageway we're familiar with from L. Lellang. But also three nice sapi were produced and played--one elaborately carved. This is the three-string Kayan "guitar," Kenyah also?

The government boat arrived yesterday about three p.m. with SAO [Sarawak Administrative Officer] Kiprawi, various others, and Hedda Morrison (20)--they didn't seem exactly overjoyed to see us already here! It looks like the old human thing of hating to see others share your idyll.

An interesting twist at the longhouse last night--one of the "girls" turned out to be a boy--took the lead in a good deal of the dancing. Wears his hair male style yet very effeminate--tho is apparently accepted and condoned. Dressed in a male pattern sarong but the total effect was female.

June 18, (Saturday).

A flock of Penans arrived at last this morning from L. Lamai. They appeared on the bank across the river, were ferried over in one of the trader's boats--are now ensconced in the top of the kubu, in the big room next to our little one, along with a Kenyah trader and Hedda Morrison. They look very much like the Long Sait people and emit a distinctive smell of cassava and pig fat.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

We have the tamu mechanics somewhat better sorted out. According to SAO Kiprawi, they won't begin trading until all are here--whenever that may be (the official dates for the tamu are June 17-19). Then the SAO watches the weighing of their damar, jangkar, [varieties of wild resin and rattan] etc. and makes sure they don't get cheated which Kiprawi assures me they would be otherwise--"these traders are a dirty lot." This group of Penans appears to have brought only damar, no mats yet.

The Silat River Penans brought in parangs, mats, and small knives they had made. The latter are being sold to the Penans here! Both traders who have been participating to date are natives--one a Kayan from Sungai Akah, who is trading in the longhouse. He is related to T. Oyong Lawai Jan (probably through his wife who is Kayan--he's Kenyah). He has a couple of Akah Penans with him to interpret, etc. None of the Akah Penans have arrived yet. The other man here in the kubu is a Kenyah. There is also a Chinese trader (Hokkien from L. Akah) located in the longhouse at the moment, but he is selling only to the longhouse folk. Although better stocked, he is doing nothing like the business the Kayan is--they are at opposite ends of the verandah.

The Penans always deal with the trader--there is no competition--with the man they know. Those here so far are dealing with the kubu-based Kenyah (who is not doing any longhouse trading). The two traders in the longhouse have a large range of stuff to sell to longhouse folk--tinned goods, beads, candy, sarongs, all sorts of utensils and household goods. But the Penan trade goods are limited--rice, pots, knives, a little cloth. I saw one man looking at some medicine.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

The Penans go outside and build little fires to cook--several were doing this along the path to the longhouse. They are very good humored about being photographed!

Most do not speak any Malay--although one girl does. All the babies and lots of little dogs along--the dogs look very healthy. The people do not look unhealthy--although there is a good bit of dirt and skin disease.

We hope to see some trading but have decided to leave Monday come what may. Going with traders is out--they would be dawdling along at every longhouse down the river--and we'll probably try to hire our own boat which Tony assures us won't be hard.

SAO Kiprawi, a Kuching Malay, seems like a sharp enough character. Explained to us how he came from cross river [the old Malay quarter] in Kuching and therefore didn't mind rural assignments such as this, but that some Kampong Datu [upper class] Malays would refuse a Baram assignment. Then a large number of Penans came into the room where we were speaking and he excused himself saying he couldn't stand their smell!

It is Saturday and the little Kenyah schoolboys have a free day--they are always busy, making parang (this is learned in "art" class, together with shield making, from a longhouse artisan) or fishing, or floating down the river on rafts, or playing soccer which they adore.

June 19, (Sunday).

The end of the tamu. A good bit of fun trading this morning. We were wrong about the L. Lawai people--they did bring some nice mats, which were gradually hauled out yesterday afternoon. In fact we bought two--one black & white and one black-red-white and a carrying basket for $13, $15 and $4 respectively. We were confused as to whether we could buy directly from the Penans or not. H.M. [Hedda Morrison] advised that the Kenyah trader, Abang, had first rights so we held back--according to Kiprawi needlessly--so bought from the trader instead (except the basket) and they lost the markup which he got--and the tamu is supposed to protect the Penans. Oh well.

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

The big lumps ofdamar and gettah (nyatoh) [varieties of wild rubber] were left outside the kubu and weighed there. Other stuff all came inside--first they sold, then they took goods up to the value they'd accumulated--except one man at least who has an account with the trader working toward purchase of a new shotgun.

But aside from this kind of trading the Penans also had some cash they've apparently gotten from the army at Long Banga--that is also blamed for the poor turnout now, as compared to other years.

SAO Kiprawi keeps a record of virtually all transactions, assisted by a man from the Baram District Council, and by his driver (an Orang Ulu adopted by a Malay, Dato Zen Gallau [or Gallan], who has become a Muslim, and the man from the DC also collects shotgun taxes. The Baram Penans do not pay door taxes--note the contrast with the Rejang side where of course there are no tamu either. The dresser was busily taking TB smears while all this was going on. He has been doing a land office business with the Penans.

Lots of people getting shotgun shells. Great excitement among the ladies when some bras were produced late in the game. Many of these Punans bought (for about $6) parangs which the trader had bought from the Silat Punans who made them for $5 only a few days before.

Someone got $30 for two porcupine gall stones about the size of chestnuts. This sort of thing--monkey gall stones also come high--can fetch up to $300 a tahiL (21) Kiprawi noted that it is on such items that government supervision is needed else the Penans would indeed be robbed--they'd probably part with them for a box of shotgun shells worth $10.

A much lesser show in the afternoon down at the longhouse with a bare handful of people from Long Sait.

Tony's kids danced last night--good show--at the school but he kept them up too late.

This morning he took us to the Penghulu's [Taman Bulan's] house for a very good chicken-rice broth brunch, preceded by rather sour yeasty borak. It turns out the Penghulu is RC [Roman Catholic] and so are three other doors in the otherwise BEM [Borneo Evangelical Mission] house--while we were there a couple went through a "betrothal ceremony"--this was BEM! The place was full of visitors.

June 20, Long San.

About five hours' driving time from Lio Mato to here today. We hired the boat at the Badang house last night, after an endless debate--the Kenyahs (or at least the Lio lot) have a slow-motion quality which at times can be most aggravating. There was a crisis before we left this morning--Tony got a message by wireless from the BEM missionaries at L. Lama saying his sister in school there was sick and would have to go to hospital in Miri but they wanted him to come down to accompany her. So he came as far as Long Jeh, two hours down, where he discovered that his parents had already left having overheard the wireless message! The entire countryside listens to the administration radio which can be pulled up on many home sets.

A lovely river but it kept getting bigger and bigger--rapids all the way, and the boat alarmingly tippy. The Baram is enough river for me--although water perfect just now--not too big and not too small. I want no part of the Akah thanks. The only bad place was from L. Apo to L. [blank] because we kindly gave a ride to a chappy who turned out to be drunk as a lord - the whole boat reeked of borak--and he insisted on telling me all his troubles in bad Malay through the middle of the worst rapids, not even looking where we were going.

Long Jeh--it is huge--about 50 families in four longhouses, plus a great clutter of rice barns and other outbuildings. Houses arranged in two rows, one above the other.

What we paid to get here:

gas 7 tins at $10 (2 to get down, 5 to return)    $70
wages 2 men 3 days @ $4 per                        24
motor $3 per day (new 20 hp)                        9
boat $1 (not worth that!)                           3
total                                            $106

And at that they tried--vainly--to get more out of me after we got here.

Long San is, of course, the home of Temenggong Oyong Lawai Jan and Stephen Wan Ullok among others. We stopped here more to rubberneck than anything--were shown through a most impressive mission (RC) set-up--then introduced to the woman who raised Wan Ullok--we'd said we were friends. In an end bilek, just being built.

Then I went down to L. Akah bazaar (nine doors--five minutes downriver). A young sharp-seeming Chinese wanted $180 for a charter boat to L. Lama! Four hours! We've since found a Kenyah here who says he can take us all the way to Marudi for that in one day. We leave at six am tomorrow we hope. (We did--and made it in one day easily.)

L. San is every bit as clean as the Kelabit set-up, with a lovely grass and boulder covered bathing place. The longhouse is just downstream from (across the Sungai San) the RC mission complex of school (Primary Six), hospital, church, etc. The Temenggong's bilek is [in] the middle of the house, has two stories (i.e. no conventional pig space below--they are all fenced out) and concrete foundations and lower walls with louvered windows. Yet the people are still not noticeably more "westernized" here--although the effect of good mission education shows clearly on the kids--still plenty of long hair on men of all ages from toddlers--still farming dry rice mainly. A lovely clean verandah with women making hats etc.--the inevitable men repairing fishing nets. The Temengggong's bilek has the upper walls off the veranda elaborately carved with Orang Ulu designs--each panel identified by artist--two are Indonesian Kenyahs, the other three Sarawak Kenyahs and Kayans. He is not here now--of course, probably rarely is, and many are away at their rice field clearings (tebesan).

June 22, Marudi.

Our driver was as good as his word. Left L. San at 7 am yesterday, arrived L. Lama about 11:15, got here about 3:45.28 hp engine on a good small boat. Joseph Apoi, the driver, seems a loner--bragged about only he would dare make such a long trip without another crew member. Former Border Scout, speaks a little English. Cost $180.

Thank heaven the trip wasn't any longer. In the process of a little socializing last night at L. San I'd finished off most of Barbara's borak as well as my own--we were now in Roman Catholic territory and drink has reappeared--and I felt decidedly hung over. The weather alternated between frying hot sun and cold windy drizzle. During a brief lunch stop at L. Lama, we met one of the BEM mission people (female) who seemed very pleasant. She confirmed that the hellfire and damnation posters are Indonesian-said the mission isn't too happy about them being plastered everywhere but the people love them.

She said the Borneo Evangelical Mission people on the Indonesian side were Americans, something called the Christian Missionary Alliance. (22) Isn't sure if they still have people there but thinks maybe. The Sarawak Lun Bawang first got the gospel from Indonesian Lun Dayeh Christians pre-war--then the BEM started in Lun Bawang country.

The river flattens out rapidly below L. Akah. Longhouses (mostly Kayan below L. Akah and before L. Lama) frequently an hour apart even at our rapid pace. Below L. Lama there are Kenyah houses again, the river is really quite dull.

So our great adventure is over--our one bit of really into the ulu travel. It was certainly enormous fun.

Here, in the Baram, one senses more than anywhere else the endless implications of huge rivers, great distances, and scattered isolated peoples. This district is an empire in itself. You can get utterly lost and absorbed in it--although it is in every sense a small minority of Sarawak, much less of Malaysia. It would take months to cover the whole thing even in the most superficial way.

Here as in Second Division the impact of the Chinese has been minimal--or rather it has been commercial and not agricultural. They are traders and timber tycoons, not colonists. Even bazaars above Marudi are minimal--about 15 doors at L. Lama, then nothing until the last nine-door bazaar at L. Akah (and two of them are orang ulu shops, one owned by a brother of Oyong Lawai Jau and the other by Tama Weng Tinggang's family--the Temenggong's SUPP rival. Representatives of both these shops were at the tamu. As a result the Baram is undoubtedly "less developed." I found myself thinking that this is what the Rejang would have been like had the Chinese not come in such numbers.

We have of course seen nothing of the Ibans here--they are in the Tinjar and Bakong mostly.

Dinner with Dick Goldman and another bright seeming PCV Stu Currens last night, after a beer with the Kelabit penghulu, who is down on business. Much interesting stuff from them. Stu says Long Moh is still by far the most traditional Kenyah "house" in the Baram. Actually seven longhouses. I'm sorry we did not stop there. Gobs of heads around and some people who still follow the adat lama, [traditional religion] as well as Bungans and Roman Catholics.

They are concerned at the very small number of Kenyah and Kayan girls who are getting on to secondary school. This is in marked contrast to the Kelabits whose girls are getting educated. Apparently they (the K and K girls) or their parents prefer the traditional longhouse virtues--skill at dancing, singing etc. But they foresee problems because plenty of the boys are getting educated--they plan on careers elsewhere and they realize that a traditionally reared Kenyah girl, however fine she may be in the longhouse, will not be a very satisfactory wife in Kuching or elsewhere. So it is likely that there will be more educated young men marrying non-Kenyahs.

Most of the Kayans and Kenyahs who get educated are aristocrats or upper middle class. There has been only one of ulun [slave] origin in the Marudi Government secondary school in the last two years.

Impressions of the trip:

The enormous difference in seeing your jungle from above (from the air) and on the ground--where you can never see the shape of the country.

How very unexotic jungle is--mostly just like any other woods, only wetter.

The lovely scene at Bario when the weekly "Twin Pin" lands. The tremendous air-orientation of the Kelabit highlands.

The solidity of Kelabit construction.

The hill-girt valley that Pa Tik lies in, reminding me of West Virginia.

The Penans, attempting so many enormously difficult new undertakings yet seeming calm and cheerful.

Why the mission (BEM) has succeeded: it is the only constant source of outside attention--that people know will be here year after year--besides an overburdened government. At a time when the Penans clearly sense that they must begin to come to terms with the rest of the world, this is something to cling to---however intrusive the BEM and missionaries in general may sometimes seem to us.

The brilliant blue-green hills of Lio Mato.

The hell of getting up a rain-swollen river without outboards.

The extraordinary greasy slipperyness of Borneo paths.

Penans making cooking fires off the path at Lio Mato while at the tamu--so clearly more at home just a little back in the woods.

Wading across a rain-swollen Pa Libid before breakfast with an all-day walk ahead.

Smoked wild pig meat carried in little bamboo tubes. The speed and skill of our guides at making fires and other basic camp craft.

The emptiness of the Baram yet also the feeling (Marudi and above) of integration, community. Not the series of separate provinces you sense as you progress up the Rejang. (Main cause, fewer Chinese.)

The total cost of our 18-day trip, about M$900. Of this $286 coming down the Baram (two days).

June 23, Marudi.

Both our Peace Corps friends and the bright, well-educated young Assistant DO, Awang Saffri (Kuching Malay), dispel any ideas that Iban expansiveness is no longer any problem. It is, very much, in the Baram. The pressure seems to be growing--both to come in from the other areas (still allowed on agreement of Residents if sufficient reason can be shown) and to move from Iban areas here (Bakong, Tinjar, etc) into Kayan and Kenyah land. I spotted a fat file labeled "Iban Affairs" in A. Saffri's office--didn't get to look at it.

There have been incidents reflecting communal tension. The Ibans are regarded here as land hungry and aggressive people. The Peace Corps people say their education record is not good. Clearly it is feared that in the future they may use their superior political force within the state to force relaxation of migration control. Already the pressure is getting political. "We are all Malaysians now and should be able to live anywhere" is one new Iban line. The old colonial no-questions-asked fiat dictation of who lives where won't go. (A good answer to the above line would be--OK--in that case we'll allow unlimited Chinese expansion into Iban native areas. Except of course the Chinese aren't quite as "Malaysian" as everyone else.)

Population as of 1962--latest figures available [given to me by the Baram District Office in writing]:

Summary Population 1962 Baram District

Race                               No of Long Houses   No. of Doors

Malay                                  7 kampong           220
Kenyah                                    27               668
including Badang
Kayan                                     17               630
Dayaks [Iban]                             60             142 (23)
Kelabit                                   16               282
Sebob                                      5                85
Berawan                                    3                68
Long Kiput                                 1                29
(including Binawa Moslem S) (24)
Bisaya Bukit                               1                19
Chinese                                6 places             --
                                       (bazaars)
Penan settled                          8 places            146
Nomadic Penans                            17               279
TOTAL

Race                               Population

Malay                                1,680
Kenyah                               3,767
including Badang
Kayan                                5,205
Dayaks [Iban]                        8,833
Kelabit                              1,717
Sebob                                  864
Berawan                                474
Long Kiput                             192
(including Binawa Moslem S) (24)
Bisaya Bukit                           117
Chinese                              4,236

Penan settled                          984
Nomadic Penans                       1,636
TOTAL                               29,705

Note that the Ibans are now already the largest single group and just
about equal Kayans and Kenyahs combined.

June 24 (Friday), Marudi--Miri.

Just watched the "Twin Pin" leave for Bario. In a few minutes we'll be riding the same plane down to Miri. Surely there can be no more romantic flight to anywhere than the Bario Friday event. Long may it wave.

Marudi is a sparkling little town, a fit center for a beautiful river--clean, prosperous, heads up, conscious of the Baram tradition and proud of it. We're very glad we didn't have to dash through. Since Miri became the regional headquarters in the 1920s and since there was never much "development" in the Baram, Marudi preserves better than anywhere else--except maybe Simanggang which certainly isn't as pretty --the classic outlines of the Charles Brooke Division headquarters. The kubu shown in Pagan Tribes of Borneo still stands on its little hill, site of the famous early peace-makings. Only change: many more desks inside. Moving upstream, the old cadets' house is now the resthouse (where I write) and beyond that--beyond a new water system plant --is the old Residency, now the district officer's bungalow.

Downstream (all this is on the right side of the Baram ascending) is the bazaar, very new (all postwar) and flush--undoubtedly the best stocked, shiniest outstation bazaar we've been in, clean and bright, arranged in three blocks around a square in the middle of which is a nice open market with eating stalls etc. The fourth side of the square, on the river bank, contains road and river fueling facilities plus a customs go down. Just off the square downstream is a handsome 48-year old Chinese temple, decorated with gilded carvings and paintings and well maintained. There is an attractive Malay kampong hilir [downstream]--although it's not called that--with lawns and neatly trimmed everything--quite unique in Sarawak in our experience--a veritable suburbia--and just inland from the bazaar a Kampong China--Malay-style houses but set far closer together than Malays would ever put them. We couldn't figure out just who these Chinese are.

In the back of the resthouse-kubu area is the airport--would that they were always so convenient--and beyond it by about half a mile the new government secondary school--now up to junior (Form Three) only but soon to be expanded up to Form V. A new junior secondary school is already in operation at Lama.

[The Baram portion of the diary ends here; the next day we flew to Niah via Miri, and then departed Sarawak via Brunei.]

Robert Pringle

Alexandria, Virginia, USA

(1) Initially published by Macmillan (UK) and Cornell University Press (US edition) in 1970. A new edition for which I have written a new introduction is forthcoming, to be published by the Universiti Malaysia Sarawak.

(2) The London-Cornell Project funded social science research in Southeast Asia and China by students from Cornell University and the London University complex. Support for foreign area research was easy to come by at the time, thanks largely to the Cold War, but the Project lasted only a few years.

(3) BRB (2008) Vol 39 128-165.

(4) A reference to Tom Harrisson, World Within: A Borneo Story: Cresset, London, 1959.

(5) An ornithologist doing research at the Sarawak Museum; today a well-known wildlife photographer.

(6) All figures in the text are Malaysian currency. The rate then was 3=1$US.

(7) Edward Shackleton, then the British Minister of Defence for the RAF.

(8) One katty (kati) is about one and one-third pounds.

(9) We had visited Belaga earlier in the year.

(10) Henry Lian later visited us in Cincinnati.

(11) I was not aware of the finer points of local ethnography when this was written. Linguistically and culturally, the Kelabit seem virtually identical with the Lun Bawang in the north and the Lun Dayeh across the Sarawak-East Kalimantan border--see Cristina Eghenter and Jayl Langub, "Past Meets Future: A Trans-Border Forum for a Sustainable Future for the Highlands of Borneo" in BRB (2008) Vol. 39: 286-294.

(12) John Kennedy Wilson was a locally famous Scot who retired from Sarawak Government

service and at this time was running his own development scheme in the Julau area of the Third Division, stressing self-help and adherence to local, in this case Iban, values; we had visited him a few months previously.

(13) He might have meant two hours by small plane.

(14) Jayl Langub notes: "This was where British commandos trained the local Border Scouts (Kelabit and Lun Bawang) to accompany British SAS to patrol along the Sarawak-East Kalimantan border during Konfrantasi--I was told this by a distant cousin from Ba Kelalan who was one of those trained at Kuba'an by British commandos."

(15) The photo suggests that the beads in her necklace were probably of Chinese, Indian or Southeast Asian origin, not Persian (from Barbara Pringle).

(16) Long in this part of Borneo means 'the point where a tributary enters the main river' (hence Long Lellang translates as 'the mouth of the Lellang'), and is often found in place names.

(17) "Bungan" is a simplified version of traditional religion, designed in part to compete more effectively with Christianity, which spread in upriver areas of Borneo after World War II.

(18) I was confused about the Penan/Punan, Rejang-Baram ethnographic puzzle. Jayl Langub notes that "The Punan Bah of the upper Rejang may be considered a subgroup of the Kajang peoples (with linguistic and cultural affinity to the Melanau of the Lower Rejang) comprising the Kejaman, Sekapan, Lahanan and of course the Punan Bah; the Punan Vuhang are another group (two groups of not more than 200 individuals, slightly more across the Indonesian Borneo side) living up the Linau, tributary of the Balui close to the Sarawak-East Kalimantan border; they were hunter-gatherers very much like the Penan, but speak their own language."

(19) This comment may have been from Charles Agan Raja, agricultural technician at Long Akah, whose name is at the top of the diary page, although it is not totally clear.

(20) Noted photographer and wife of Sarawak official Alastair Morrison.

(21) A tahil is a unit of measurement for gold, a little over one avoirdupois ounce.

(22) The Christian and Missionary Alliance is a global organization still operating at this writing.

(23) Clearly a mistake--Saffri couldn't give the right figure. [note in original]

(24) Includes Moslems at Kampong, Binawa? Abang Joahan said yes but I wonder. [note in original]