Happy Trekking Monday, Dec 8 2008

… is, thankfully, not always about seeing sights or even reaching a destination. After all, the crater may be covered in fog by the time you reach the top of that volcanic mountain, or the clouds may have obscured the brilliant sunset you had been hoping for.

Instead, it is about putting one foot before the other, regulating your breathing, keeping as quiet as possible so you can hopefully happen upon the unexpected (hopefully harmless) wildlife that may suddenly fade into sight amongst the otherwise confusing tangle of branches and vines.

Despite our best attempt to stay silent while clumsily pulling ourselves up (or down) steep slopes and past bulky tree roots, the most exciting wildlife that Mom, Sis and I spotted in Bako National Park ended up wandering across our path when we were about to leave the park via its headquarters (a bearded pig and some proboscis monkeys). (Doh.) But we had been thrilled by the hush of the rainforest prior to that anyway, and also primed for the encounter by our first approach to the island via the soft beach at low tide.

I’d like to stay overnight at Bako the next time I return to Kuching, and wake up at the crack of dawn to witness the arboreal feedings of the silver-leaf monkeys, as well as spy on the sun-basking monitor lizards on the beach.

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Gentle Sarawak Friday, Dec 5 2008

There’s something about Malaysia – its wide-open, reckless roads; unrelenting afternoon sun; and sprawling industrial estates along the highway – that causes an odd sense of displacement. If Vietnam reminds us of Singapore in the 70s, Malaysia may well be the late 80s; and if this is the case, since I was actually alive and kicking in the 80s, I should feel a greater, and more genuine sense of nostalgia while visiting Malaysia.

And I do, especially in Kuching, where a fairly large Chinese population resides. Colourful shophouses producing furniture, noodles, and coffins ply the riverfront, while grizzled uncles who grunt instead of speak provide much-needed directions and delicious noodles. The food is Chinese with a twist – exotic belacan midin, kam pua noodles, belacan beehoon with thick slices of cuttlefish, and guang bing or “kong pia”. Breezy, cosy coffeeshops where you have to sit meekly and wait for the proprietor to notice you before your order can be taken abound. And taxi-drivers – gruff, shrewd, yet by turns garrulous and kind, willingly come earlier than the stipulated time to pick their passengers up from far-flung places like the Orangutan Wildlife Rehabilitation Centre, somehow mysteriously managing to slip pass the entrance without having to pay a fee, and announcing their presence with a sudden and hearty “did you see many?” when everyone is absorbed by the ongoing drama between the orangutans on the feeding platform.

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