Jungle Boogie - Taman Negara National Park, Malaysia (Sept. 18-20, 2005)

An Orang Asli village on the way into the jungle...and cooling cows in the river...

chilled out cows...

It took quite a work of persuation to convince Elisabeth that we should go visit the Malaysian jungle, but I desparately wanted to see it. I was determined to get my way if it was at all possible, so I was persistant. Elisabeth has never been much a fan a forests, much less even the thought of a jungle. There is something about the word ‘jungle’ that conjures up images quite distinct from the idea of mere forests. Big and nasty snakes, for example. The idea of a ‘jungle village’ is not much better, but this is where we would be staying if we were to indeed visit the jungle. But the truth is not necessarily as dramatic as the stereotype image, if you have an idea what to expect in reality.

Eventually, a detailed outline of just what it was, this jungle village, as described once again in our trusty Lonely Planet, along with a lengthy discussion about exactly the sort of things I was thinking about doing while we were there, and my full assurance that I was quite capable of doing the hikes on my own, Elisabeth didn’t have to do any of it aside from sit on the balcony of our room there, if this was all that she felt like doing, eventually did the trick. The jungle village in any event was a civilised place with a couple hotels and so forth (along with much more primative accomodation as well for those who desired it). So to Taman Negara, the large Malaysian National Park which consists of one and only one thing - jungle - we headed.

Different people inevitably have their own individual semi-rational (and semi-irrational) fears. Or perhaps hesitations is a better word to use. A recent example from earlier this summer, before this Asian trip.

It was a hot July day when I went on a little sailing trip for a day with some friends back in Denmark. We anchored the boat a short distance from shore at one point to go for a swim. Some of those on board began diving off the sailboat, a moderately sized boat - 35 or 40 feet. Dives from the top of the boat required taking a small leap to clear the distance to the water. Myself, though I am quite able to dive, have never been overly comfortable doing head-first dives of the sort that require leaping any distance to reach the water. I know I am well able to do it, I just always have a slight hesitation that holds me back. The others on this day had no such hesitations, plunging gracefully into the water. I eventually followed, though not quite so gracefully.

A few moments later, flapping around in the water, I began diving underwater and under the sailboat, then emerging up on the other side. Back and forth. I really get a kick out of doing this for some reason. My Iranian friend who shall remain otherwise anonymous ;-) had just been questionning me when we were getting ready to dive off of the boat. as to why I was so hesitant to dive - to which I obviously had no entirely rational answer. Now in the water, the situation literally turned upsidedown. When it came to diving under the boat, he quickly started asking me how I was able to do that - he wouldn’t even consider the idea of trying. So there you have it - fears tend to lurk quite randomly.

So back to the Malaysian jungle.

Eventually, Elisabeth agreed to hike a couple of the jungle trails - ones that we had been assured were very well marked and frequently travelled. The first lead to the famous Taman Negara canopy walkway - a rope suspended and surprisingly lengthy walkway high up in the trees. Arriving at the walkway, Elisabeth and I did it without a moment of hesitation - though once we were on it, there were a couple of particularly high sections which were more than a little scary as the rope bridge swayed and creaked with each step, the ground practically hidden by the dense and distant foliage far below.


pure trust in Malaysian craftsmanship...

cool as a cucumber...

Coming to the end of the walkway, we met a fellow sitting on a bench outside the exit whom along with his girlfriend we had eaten dinner together with the day previous. He was waiting for his girlfriend to finish the canopy walkway, since he himself had decided it was too much for him to take after he had crossed the first two walkway sections. He had a fear of heights, and this wasn’t the way he was going to conquer it. So back to the beginning he had returned to wait for his girlfriend who was completing the walkway without him. Another victim of semi-rational fear. Incidently, these two were planning on taking a 3 day hiking trip through the deeper parts of the Taman Negara Jungle, so obviously it was hardly the jungle in itself that he feared.

As for the epilogue of out jungle trekking in Teman Negara - well, it was a mixed outcome which I would nonetheless clearly judge a success and a positive experience (hmmm, I sound a bit like some sort of self-help therapist here using expressions like ‘positive experience’).

You see, things got a little tense at a point towards the end of our little jungle trek, after the canopy walkway part. At this point, we had hiked in total about 4.5 km since the start of the day, which though not a huge distance, is a pretty fair way to go in the Malaysian heat and humidity. I was entirely confident that we were close to our destination - a swimming spot along the river that was apparently quite close to the starting point - and on the right track. The path was rather steep, winding and narrow and seemed like it had been going on a little longer than the distance it was supposed to. At this point, we couldn’t hear any water sounds, as we had earlier when the path was closer to the river, and furthermore we hadn’t seen anyone else on the path for quite some time. But there was really no way we could have made a wrong turn, the path was quite clear, so I wasn’t really worried myself. But Elisabeth began to lose her nerve at that point, momentarily, and panicked somewhat. Panic, if you have never quite experienced it yourself, is a state when it is very difficult, if not impossible, for anyone to calm you down, no matter how hard they try. Elisabeth, at this point, suddenly didn’t want to be anywhere near a jungle, much less in the middle of it. A few minutes later (looong minutes they seemed to me as I futilely tried to offer reassurances about the situation), we arrived. All was well. A couple guys sitting along the river told us it was less than 5 minutes to the village.



So the conclusion regarding the whole jungle experience. It had been a remarkable turnaround from a few days previous simply to find Elisabeth agreeing to go on an unguided jungle walk at all since back then the whole jungle leg of our trip was looking unlikely at best. By the end, a few short days later, we both could agree that another jungle trek in the future was possible. That, in my judgement, is success.


restaurants on the river in the jungle village...

How to happily get into a waterfall...

Suddenly on the horizon, you see it - a waterfall (perhaps you are in the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia, for example). Since you are not in the desert, you know it is not a mirage...



But what to do now? You know the water is probably nice...well, here's some ideas...


1. Check the water - is it warm enough? It probably is.


2. Continue checking for the unexpected - rocks, crocodiles and so forth...


3. Everything okay? Then you are ready to get to it, don’t be shy...


4. And you’re in there!

Hopefully, these suggestions have been helpful!

Tea Plantations and Jungle Villages - Cameron Highlands, Malaysia (Sept. 15-17)

When you agree to go on an organised excursion, it is very difficult to know whether you have got yourself into some kind of little tourist type roadshow - whiz by the sights, stop off at the gift shop (t-shirt and postcard?) see you next time - or if you will actually pay for a unique experience - the sort of things that you simply wouldn’t be able to have in nearly the same way on your own. With this in mind, it was with some hesitation that we decided to take an organised tour around the Cameron Highlands, the sort of tours we have been avoiding this trip. Our intuition was that this was one trip that would be a good one, more than a simple tourist experience, and thankfully we right.

The Cameron Highlands happens to be one of the few places we had actually heard about before we arrived in Malaysia, though it didn't seem like it would fit with the extreme beach relaxation concept we initially envisioned as we started out. But plans evolve. The description in our faithful Lonely Planet guidebook, along with the recollection of the recommendation offered by a friend of Elisabeth’s siter who had been here a few years back was convincing.

The Cameron Highlands, most of which is around 1800 metres above sea level, has a rather cooler and significantly less humid climate than the rest of Malaysia - not unlike Denmark in the summer in fact. Some days are rather cool, some days are sunny and rather hot and there is quite a bit of clouds and rain. The majority of Malaysia’s fruit, vegetable, tea and cut flowers are produced here, which is not hard to understand was once you are here. It is not that large of an area, but the place is a model of efficiency and organisation in the sense that every bit of possible farming land is producing non-stop 12 months of the year with the assistance of copious amounts of fertilizer.


before the tomatos are fully ripened, a new row of beans (I believe they are...) is already planted below


orchids for everyone...


the yellow lady orchid - up close...

Allow me a small digression.

If anyone has ever had the chance to see that rather famous photo exhibition of photos by Yann-Arthurs Bertrand, called ‘The Earth From Above’ - which is quite likely as it has been everywhere in the past five years - I myself have seen it in no less than 3 cities. It is an exhibition which unavoidably leaves the strongest of impressions the first time you see it for the simple reason that he captures a seemingly endless number of timeless moments in time from around the globe in the most vivid detail and colour, and all looking down from above. Inevitably there are countless scenes which even the most well-travelled of person has never witnessed.

But back to our little excursion. Seeing the endless tea plantations of the Cameron Highlands brought back memories of a pictures from the ‘Earth From Above’ exhibtion taken of the Malaysian tea plantations. I could see the picture in my minds eye immediately. Nonetheless, the sight of this landscape in real life, as Elisabeth remarked, was one beyond anything that exists in any memory-bank of images from places we had ever encountered in our life. Utterly unique.


endless valleys of tea


cutting and collecting the tea leaves


tea trees

Seeing the actual tea production process, though interesting, was actually an anti-climax after all the rest.

However this was only a part of the experience. The trip to an Orangi Asli village in the junge was undisputedly the highlight of the day.

As was explained to us, we were able to visit this village not because it was part of any existing tourist route, but rather because one of the people from this village was worked at the hostel where we were staying, which was how the agreement to conduct tours through the village came about.

A bumpy trip in a Land Rover into the jungle, a short walk over a bridge to the village got us there.


the Orang Asli village from a distance...



Now obviously the people in this village are used to westerns by now, which didn’t detract at all from the utter uniqueness of the experience, because in any event, there lives are an odd combination of traditional living combined with a certain moderness. The visit began by giving the kids some biscuits we had brought along.


the welcome was really for the biscuits we brought, not us!

The village huts are traditional, made of bamboo and only lasting 2-3 years.


The Chief's hut...

We were invited into the hut of the villlage chief for tea, tapiocca and a unique a rather smelly fruit, durion (very smelly, acquired taste which I didn't quite acquire). Undisputably a unique and fascinating experience.


the infamously smelly durion fruit


the village chief



The village chief, incidently, is elected democratically by his tribe, and resigns his position voluntarily when he feels he has nothing more unique to offer his tribe as its chief, at which point a new chief is elected.

However, as I mentioned, there is a clear intrusion of the modern with their very traditional way of living. In this small 14 family village set inside the jungle, this included running water piped in, a gas stove and in the chiefs hut, even a television and DVD player powered by a solar power.


a modern jungle kitchen...


a modern jungle entertainment system...


a modern solar panel...

Many of the Orang Asli people have taken the government offer of significant subsidies in the form of free houses along with electricity and water if they move out of the jungle and into nearby villages. The Orang Asli are actually Christian, though the government would love to see them convert to Islam, hence the efforts being made to move them closer to the rest of the Malaysian society. Orang Asli children, once they turn 15 or 16 are encouraged to move to the town away from their village to see whether this way of life interests them. Most opt to return to their jungle villages, though some obviously stay in the towns and cities.

I will let the rest of the pictures tell the remaining story of our little visit.


the chiefs chicken, sitting on its eggs - yes, inside the hut!


hunting traps


a blow pipe, firing a small wooden dart laced with a deadly poison on the tip. A small blow fires the dart up to 50 metres!



yes, cute everywhere...


a friendly game of dodgesandle

A Little Note From (Tropical) Elisabeth (reporting from Pangkor Island, Malaysia)

Pulau Pangkor I must admittedly declare is at true paradise, and so far my favorite one. It has everything: beautiful beaches, jungle, nice people who are quite flexible, good for us!!.







Our negotiating skills helped us get a pretty nice hotelroom for cheap (100 kroner/13 euro) facing the water and including a balcony, super!! People on the island are very relaxed, occasionally spending time in their hammocks, going around in their boats, tending to their small shops etc. But this relaxed lifestyle turns wild when they get on their various vehicles - a Malaysian phenomenon apparently. Being picked up by a pink taxi at the jetty (the local pier) confirmed this.



The island roads are small and curved and quite hilly but that is nothing a little fast Malaysian driving can’t help, especially if you want your customer to get to the destination fast (note, that wasn’t a demand) blind overtaking even though you can’t really see around the bend is nothing, and for a Malaysian driver it makes it just an inch better if you speed up. They have speed in their blood.

So it was with a little hesitation that I agreed that renting a moped was a good idea. Tim did not want to miss out on the fun, and wanted eagerly to join the island Formula 1. Which at some times left him with a mildy screaming girlfriend on the back. But Tim Schumacher did well.





He could see that the mophet affair would not have a disasterous outcome- though some of the moped drivers were wearing helmets none of their kids were. Since your kids are suppose to be your primary concern, we decided it could not be that dangerous.




this picture says it all

One thing I have noted on this island paradise is that the Indian Ocean is warmer than the South China Sea on the other side of Malaysia where we were before, a small issue to take notice of, of course. But I must admit that such concerns, along with the crazy moped driving and strange food dishes, have turned out to be a simple matter of not having too much to be concerned with, which has become our “tropical identity” in a nutschell.

Elisabeth.


a happy Tim.

A Little About Dried Fish (Pulau Pangkor, Malaysia - Sept. 10-13)

”more fish to dry, coming up!”

We’ve arrived at the beating heart, the epicentre of it all - the Malaysian dried fish trade. It’s here on Pulau Pangkor, an island off the west coast of Malaysia in the Indian Ocean. It may be paradise, but amonst all of this, dried fish are everywhere.


”Welcome to Dried Fish Mart, how can I help you?”


"Welcome to Dried Fish World, anything you're looking for?"


"Welcome to Dried Fish Superstore, you like some dried fish?"

They seem to be in every shop not selling souvenir t-shirts, even the internet cafes.


”an hour of internet or a kilogram of dried fish?”


And even for breakfast. After steadfastly trying to avoid them, finally Elisabeth is caught in the net herself. There was only one place to eat breakfast this morning that was open, and that one place offered only one breakfast choice - Nasi Lemak, otherwise known as a plate of coconut rice, with a fried egg on top, a pile of peanuts and yes, a pile of those little dried fish things drenched in a spicy chili sauce. The perfect wake-me-up.


prepare to meet thy destiny



I had tried it myself the day previous, there was more choices that day. I kind of enjoyed it in a funny way - not that I was planning on it becoming part of my morning (non)routine.

In the end, Elisabeth only ate the coconut rice, surprise, surprise. And then it was off to the beach. Perhaps later tonight some happiness and karaoke?




”Did somebody say dried fish?!”