Part one can be found here
I hear birds singing. I walk around for a while. Nothing to be seen. I decide to follow the asphalt for another round. As I reach the main street, I see the entrance building of the park. I take a different small road. Tiny raindrops cover my cap, my shirt, and my phone when I make short videos. I pass by what seems to be a white longhouse and follow the signs to the boat club. Maybe if I leave the obvious path, I will find a hornbill. I can hear the sea. Surfboards are tilted against the walls. I don’t see any humans.
I see only silence.
In the distance, I now catch a glimpse of the sea. I walk towards a bar and notice someone wiping the floor of a restaurant that is facing the water. It looks like a nice place to sit in the evening, while watching the sunset. I walk towards it and check the menu that is lying on a holder in front of the wooden bar. A friendly young man walks in my direction and wishes me good morning. “Good morning to you too,” I say. “Do you also serve coffee?” He nods, and I close the menu and walk up the three steps to find a place to sit down. “Do you know where the hornbills are?” I ask. He tells me that hornbills are very shy and don’t like to come to places where there are lots of people. I tell him with a sad face that I was walking in the reserve and that I didn’t see any. “I might go back later,” I mention while I am looking for a table.
As I unpack my bag, I notice out of the corner of my eye a little crab walking over the wooden divider between the bar and the beach sand. I stare at it for a while. When another person asks me if I made a decision, I order the kopi o kosong and toast set. I take out my phone and check some photos that I had just taken. Maybe there’s a hornbill hidden. The crab is coming closer and I record its movements. I write a couple of things in my notebook, while I look up to watch the sea multiple times. The sea clears my mind.
The kopi and toast are served. “You are looking for hornbills?” the man asks. “Yes,“ I respond, hoping that he will point at a tree where I can see a hornbill. “It’s very difficult to see one, especially when it’s raining.” I tell him that I might go back later to try my luck.
I walk to the washroom after I finish my drink and explore the surrounding area. I look at the tall trees standing next to the club and I see people fixing a boat and a heart-shaped bench perfectly suited for lovers and an Instagram photo. As I walk back and pack my stuff, I notice the little crab on my table. I’m astonished at how it got on the table. I wink at it as if saying goodbye and walk to the cashier where I pay the bill. “Good luck finding your hornbill,” the man who brought me my kopi and toast says. I smile and I leave the bar, take the same path back to the main street and turn left toward the nest. Although the air still looks gray, and there are no other people to be seen, the rain has stopped. 270 meters to the hornbill nest.
If I don’t find it now, I will head back, I tell myself.
The asphalt is still wet and leaves crackle beneath my shoes as I walk. As I come closer to the nest, I feel anxious and excitement. My breathing stops. A hornbill is perched right in the middle. As silent as I can be, I walk closer to the nest. It is surrounded by green wire netting that makes it difficult to see it clearly. I decide to stand on a bench to get a better view and take a picture. I stand there for a while before I decide to walk to the side, when the bird decides to fly back into the tree.
It disappears. Disappointed, I walk back, telling myself that at least I had a chance to see one. Suddenly, I hear a cackling and yapping sound. I look up and see one flying outside of the nest area to the other side. It flies high in the tree where another hornbill sits. I’m mesmerized. As they are sitting quite high in the tree, I use my phone camera to zoom in and see how they are jumping closer to one another as if they are kissing. My heart melts and I look at the lovebirds for a while.
I read that hornbills are loyal and monogamous. They only choose one mate and stay together until death parts them. Apparently, seeing a hornbill brings luck. Now that I have found lovers, two hornbills, will it bring love?
Thank you for reading Borneo Stories! The best adventures aren't done alone. I’m actively seeking collaborators, locals, and partners who want to share stories, showcase the authentic beauty of Borneo together. If you have a unique perspective or a location to share, I'd love to connect.
borneodavid@outlook.com