“I could use some coffee”, I said. We just got in the car after visiting Jong’s crocodile farm.
He turned left and then made a U-turn to head back toward the city.
We left around 8 a.m. this morning, and I was getting sleepy.
He gave me a book called “Man-eating crocodiles of Borneo”, which was written by Johnson Jong, the owner of the farm, as an introduction to crocodiles and their significance in the local culture. The book also highlights Bujang Senang, the legendary, large, man-eating crocodile that dominated the Batang Lupar region.
We drove into a smaller alley that led to an even greener scenery. Concrete buildings gave way to wooden houses and small road cafes as we passed by. There were fewer cars, and I became mesmerized by the surroundings..
The infrastructure here is pretty solid.
We passed by a prison that looked more like a five-star hotel. A man on a motorcycle overtook our car, his shirt fluttering freely in the wind as he quickly disappeared into the lush, green surroundings.
“Do you remember the paintings we saw yesterday in the Hoan art gallery?”, he asked. Before I answered the question, he already said: “I’m going to bring you to the longhouse which was shown on the paintings.”
“I appreciate that”, I said. Still thinking about the coffee I wanted. But also being pleasantly surprised of visiting a long house. I last visited a longhouse in the Sarawak Cultural Village in 2014, but I couldn’t recall that much anymore.
The roads became narrower as we descended into a tree-lined valley. It seemed that the road was only wide enough for traffic in one direction.
We approached a parking area, where he could easily park the car.
We arrived at Kampung Annah Rais in Padawan, a traditional Bidayuh longhouse that was opened up to tourists to come and experience local culture. According to the information provided, the longhouse has existed for six generations and has 80 doors — down from the original 120.
I took some books out of my bag to lighten it for the walk, placed them on the seat behind me, and got out of the car.
In front of us were several wooden houses and a sign that said “welcome” in the Bidayuh language.
Slamat mandǔg
We passed by a small house. I read the billboard next to it but didn’t realize we had to pay an entrance fee to get in.
I remembered how much I needed a cup of coffee now.
We entered the small house, which was decorated with memorabilia. “Only cash” she said. I looked at my friend; he only had 10 ringgit. “No QR code?“ I asked.
“No QR code” the lady responded, her stoic face hiding a smile somewhere in there.
I thought our trip had ended. In my mind, I slowly walked toward the exit with “Have a nice day” on the tip of my tongue.
“Can it be transferred via online banking?”, he asked. “Yes, can”, the lady replied.
Somehow, I didn’t have any connection. So he ended up transferring the entrance fee for both of us.
She offered us some Tuak to welcome us to the longhouse. I had tasted Tuak before, and I quite enjoyed it. Some time ago, a friend explained that different families or tribes might prepare it in their own unique ways, which makes the drink quite unique.
We took one shot, and somehow, I ended up with another.
We thanked the lady and walked toward the entrance of the longhouse. “I love Annah Rais” was displayed, and we walked up the wooden stairs.
The sun was blazing, and combined with the Tuak, I felt slightly tipsy.
We walked across the bamboo flooring. The sound was like music; a pleasant clacking and cracking. Although the cracking made me worry I might break something.
A small table was set-up on right, and a couple -I assumed they were a couple- sold handmade souvenirs and traditional medicine. I reminded myself to maintain my minimalism mindset, and after a friendly conversation, we continued our walk.
Besides the bamboo’s cracking, I heard birds. It was peaceful. A cat was sleeping in front of a door, and less than a handful of people were having lunch. We greeted them softly.
We passed by small restaurants, home stays, and little shops. The smell of the food was amazing, and we started to feel hungry. I still hadn’t had my coffee. We decided to first explore the rest of the longhouse and have lunch on our way back.
This longhouse has multiple home stays which offer visitors a local experience.
Annah Rais Area
I haven’t figured out yet how I feel about entering someone’s heritage. I was told that people are happy because they get to teach foreigners about their culture and earn a steady income. Then i thought about places in The Netherlands, like Volendam, where people sometimes stay with local families, wearing wooden shoes and Dutch traditional clothing.
I decided to stop (over)thinking and simply enjoy the surroundings.
We entered a panggah. A traditional circular ceremonial house. It was filled with skulls. I read that, in the past, it was used to store the skulls acquired during times of headhunting, and Bidayuh warriors would sleep in the panggah to guard the village against intruders.
I got shivers and walked down the stairs.
Washed clothes were hanging outside, warmed by the rays of sunlight. A gentle breeze of wind would move them gently, like the pieces of clothes were waving at us.
We explored some alleys and greeted giant chickens and a rooster while passing by sleepy dogs.
Once we reached the dead end, we walked back and found a bridge that led us to a different part. The bridge stretched over a river. We walked down to the river and enjoyed the sound of the water. Only a couple of days later, I learned that it’s also being used as a hot spring.
“What a peaceful environment,” I said, and we took the stairs back up to the bridge.
The path led us back to where we started. I wanted to buy some Tuak. The friendly lady gave us several samples to try, and I ended up buying both the regular and Roselle flavors. Luckily, I could pay with my QR-code. The Tuak over here is way cheaper compared to the city. Although, the bottles were from different brands; it’s what’s inside that matters.
The smell of food brought us back to a restaurant we saw near to the beginning of the long house. We ordered Nasi Goreng and coffee. Finally, coffee. The dish was tasty, and additional chili paddies made my face turn red. There was an extra spiciness to it.
Wouldn’t it be lovely to live in a place like this?
He asked the lady at the restaurant how much it costs to stay here. “180RM”, she replied. The price includes activities, food and an evening performance. Not bad, I thought. We paid for our food before heading back to the entrance where we had arrived earlier in the day.
The self-proclaimed couple was nowhere to be found.
We walked down the stairs and noticed a bridge on the left. Dark clouds were gathering in the sky. As we sat back in the car, I turned my head to him.
“We better go before it starts raining.” I said. Then I kissed his lips.