We decided to go to Sri Aman.
Having visited Sibu before, I was eager to explore a new place. Although, I wasn’t the one driving, I underestimated the distance, which took us approximately one and a half hours to reach. Upon reaching in a food hall, we stopped for a quick bite and drinks. I ordered Kampung fried rice and visited the supermarket next to the food hall. After our friend finished his haircut, we said goodbye to another friend and headed to the town area. As we approached the roundabout, two write doves greeted us. We parked our car the Waterfront area.
Sri Aman was called Simanggang up to 1975.
Back then, the town was renamed Sri Aman, meaning “Town of Peace”, after the mass surrender of the communists in 1975. The white doves that we just saw symbolize peace. As Simanggang grew, it became a strategic base against rebels and it served as the administrative centre for several activities. In the 1860s, Fort Alice was built; a wooden fortress that controlled traffic passing through the Batang Lupar. During the earlier days when Iban headhunters held supreme power, it was essential to have a strong bastion. According to Department of Statistics Malaysia (DOSM), Sri Aman has a population of approximately 61,000 people.
The Lupar river was waiting for us.
We got out of the car and walked towards a giant replica of Bujang Senang, which was staring at us as we approached the waterfront. “My mom is from the kampung over there,” the guy with the dark eyes said, while he pointed to the other side of the river. I nodded and pictured life on the other side of the river.
The evening had arrived, and the sky slowly changed colors, gradually blending vibrant orange with serene blue.
While one of our friends was waiting for someone, I walked along the boulevard, while keeping my eyes on the river and observing a bridge in the distance. A traditional longboat, manned by a group of guys paddling for their life, passed by. A smaller boat, with three men, moved by next to it, diligently monitoring their progress. At least, that’s what it appeared to be. Perhaps they were preparing for the Regatta Benak Batang Lupar event, which usually takes place later in the year. The scenery was simply breathtaking.
A sense of mystery went through my body.
I’m not sure if it’s because of the many stories I’ve heard about Bujang Senang, the book I read, and other personal stories, or simply the nature of the place itself. The Waterfront area felt more wild compared to other waterfronts in Sarawak. While I was saying this, I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly made it so wild. L mentioned that the people in Sri Aman are more rough, and I somehow projected this onto the river landscape as well. Maybe it was because I didn’t see any houses on the other side of the river, or because of the murky water that carried pieces of trees. Pieces of a life that used to be.
Did that make it extra rough?
The town itself has an aura of peacefulness and restlessness combined.
And as we strolled towards the end of the boulevard, I learned more about the prawn in the river, the guy with the dark eyes’ grandfather, and how a peculiar fish safeguards certain ethnicities against crocodiles. On our way back to the Bujang Senang replica, we met our other friend and decided to head back to Kuching. We made a quick stop at the roundabout with the two doves, where I made some pictures.
We said goodbye to this special place as we drove into the night. In the car, we created playlists, refueled the car, made plans for the future. A head full of memories. New things we learned about each other. About Sarawak.
New things I learned about myself.