Sarawak Cultural Village

Feeling that I had seen most of what I had wanted in Malaysia and specifically Kuching, I just planned one activity for my last half-day in Malaysia before heading back to Singapore in the evening - a trip to Sarawak Cultural Village. Though I knew it would be touristy, this park created about an hour outside the capital city attempts to create the traditional houses/living environments of many of the major ethnic groups found throughout the country. After leaving my bags behind at a nearby hotel, I caught the shuttle, finding myself to be the only rider, and I was soon at the park, though I felt bad that I had a few crackers on the ride over and offered some to my driver who reminded me that he couldn't eat during Ramadan; it wasn't a big deal at all, but it would have been better if it hadn't have happened.

The tourist destination actually appeared fairly quiet and uncrowded, and I found out that it is often crowded with Malaysian tourists, so Ramadan kept it calm for the month, which was a good thing for me. Entering the center, you pass through the gates towards a small brown lake, along which runs a wooden boardwalk, connecting 7 dwellings of all different styles. At each stop, there are a few people dressed in the traditional costumes, often performing songs, music or crafts associated with that particular ethnic group. They also give you a cheesy little passport at the start of the park, encouraging you to stamp your passport at each of the different villages/houses. Circling around, the first two were the least interesting to me, featuring a traditional Chinese house and then a colonial Malaysian one, both fairly Westernized.

Next, I moved on to a few of the more traditional rainforest cultures, approaching the massive tallhouse of the Melanau people who only make up about 6% of the Malaysian population. This huge structure sits on high stilts, helping protect it from attack and presumably flooding, featuring a huge interior big enough for a few families and a kitchen, living room, etc. Within the house, the separate levels are connected by narrow 'ladders' that are simply slanted logs with steps carved into it, making the climb a bit tricky, especially for those with big feet that don't quite fit into the little niches. Moving on, I visited the colorful stilt house of the Orang Ulu, a name that means the Upriver People, another group that originally lived in the rainforests of the country. This was not as massive as the tallhouse, but it is also set on shorter stilts, keeping the house off the forest floor below, revealing numerous rooms inside, decorated with black, white and red paint in various swirls and tribal designs, adding a brightness not found in some of the other pure wood structures. The 'local inhabitants' were also busy carving a few logs into traditional guitar-like instruments that I believe are called sape.

Past the Orang Ulu portion, I found the tiny huts used by the Penan people who are still nomadic hunters in the forest, moving around when the food supply becomes low, hence the simple huts made from bamboo, wood and palm leaves. The little huts were very basic, and apparently a large portion of the Penan people (who make up a small portion of Malaysia) still prefer to live away from the modern cities, moving in and out of the jungle as they please. At this hut, I also got to try my skills with the blow pipe again, shooting a few darts at a target hung on a tree about 20 yards away. My aim was slightly better than it was when I tried this back in Taman Negara at the start of my trip, but I still missed the bull's eye.

Twice a day, the center holds a performance featuring songs, dances and traditional costumes of all of the featured cultures, so this was my next stop, though I wondered what ethnicity these people really were, as the same 7-10 people would perform each dance, changing outfits and dance styles depending on the song. Afterwards, I visited the Iban longhouse, one of the most well-known native dwellings in Malaysia, and tourists can often spend a night or two in the real longhouses up the rivers from some of the cities in Borneo, though the experience is obviously not quite authentic, since you have to arrange it through tourist-bureaus. As with the other structures, the longhouse is made of simple wood and bamboo construction, and this one is known for the long, narrow shape with a long common area running down the middle, flanked by the rooms of the individual families. Whole villages can actually share the same longhouse, so this really is where everything happens. My final stop was at the large, circular hut of the Bidayuh people, a group who were once headhunters and displayed some of their weapons and fruits of the hunt along the walls in the entrance to the house.

Being my last day in Malaysia, I hoped for a good lunch, and the cafeteria in the Sarawak Cultural Village actually wasn't terribly overpriced, so I was happy to find a good version of the fried noodles, kway tiao, that I love, and I was also able to try one of the Bornean specialties, jungle fern. The fern is basically steamed and flavored with just a bit of Malaysian spices, and the slightly crunchy green vegetable was pretty good, not all that different from what you'd expect it would taste like. This lunch was also crucial because the day before I had a very average noodle dish, and given my high expectations for Malaysian food that rarely disappoints, I regretted my choice of cafes, and I didn't want to end the culinary portion of this journey on a low note, so I was glad that I found a decent meal for my last taste of the country. Back in town, I grabbed my bags and headed off to the airport, ready to get back to Singapore that evening. I had actually booked two flights from Borneo to Singapore, one from the North end of the island (in Kota Kinabalu) and one at the South end (in Kuching), as there was a sale on Air Asia. The sales, and even normal prices, are so cheap that it was better for me to book both tickets and simply lose one in order to give me more flexibility in travelling through the region, and by booking a week or two in advance, I got each ticket for just about $20 including taxes, so I thought it was a good idea. In fact, the Air Asia flights are so cheap that it makes me wonder about coming back to Kuala Lumpur, the hub, and just using that as a base for traveling throughout Southeast Asia, as their network is pretty good.

With my last week or so in Malaysia, I remembered why I had liked the country the first time around, with its good mix of great food, Asian and indigenous cultures, ease of travel thanks to good infrastructure and English speakers and relative calmness compared to other parts of Southeast Asia. As I said before, the whole country came as a pleasant surprise to me, and I wouldn't mind returning in the future...

(One of the aptly named tallhouses. I believe this one is used by the Melanau people, but I could be wrong.)

(This is a traditional longhouse used by the Orang Ulu (up river) people. Though these are re-creations, they are exactly as you'd find them throughout the country, though you probably wouldn't find all the different styles so nicely situated around one small lake.)

(The workers put on a show for us with a few different dances and songs from the showcased cultures of Malaysia.)

(Loin cloths even made an appearance, though fortunately color-coordinated spandex help keep it safe for the kiddies watching. Actually, there were surprisingly few people at the village. We were told that because of Ramadan it was pretty much only foreign tourists, and it's usually crowded with Malaysians on holiday at other times.)

(One of the huge longhouses on display at the village. Many of the houses were filled with people dressed in local costume, making food or crafts typical of that ethnic group. I had some crackers made from ground flour from the sago tree - not too bad.)

(A specialty of the area - jungle fern. It was pretty good, not much different than some sorts of spinach or similar greens.)

(Here's the setup - the houses are situated in a circle around the small lake, making it easy to explore each of these cultures in brief 15 minute periods, though I get the feeling I didn't quite learn everything there is to know about the 7 featured cultures during that time.)

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Kuching - the Cat City

I had originally planned to try to make a day trip over to the scenic Bako National Park from Kuching the following day, but I realized that a few days in a row hiking through the thick, humid rainforests of Borneo might be a little more effort than I wanted, hoping to just spend a quiet day or two in Kuching before finishing up the Malaysian portion of my trip and heading back to Singapore. So after the chaos in my room the night before, I just decided to sleep in a bit and then spent the day walking around the city. Kuching is a very multi-ethnic city (in Malaysian terms) with a fairly even split between Chinese, Malaysian, and some other indigenous Bornean groups. With this being the case, I found a few small streets in the Chinese areas with simple shops selling all sorts of packaged foods, household goods and any other random piece of cheap equipment that you could need, all crammed into these open-fronted stores, packed wall to wall with a few narrow walking lanes to survey the collection unique to each store, though there's typically a fairly similar base of items. I particularly like the peanut-brittle type candy that they have, buying a huge bag of the stuff which is basically a peanut and sesame mix, held together with probably some sort of sugary syrup and then possibly baked to make it just a little bit crunchy. I had discovered the stuff in Malaysia earlier in the trip and had since forgot about it, as they don't have it much in Indonesia. So I picked up a big pack to carry along with me under my arm, reaching for piece after piece while walking down the pleasant, tree-lined, open streets of the East side of the city, realizing that I have little to no self control when it comes to food, especially sweet food/candy, though that was really no surprise to me, so my large bag was soon empty, and I was really thirsty thanks to all of the salt and nuts.

Walking around the area, I found the symbol of Kuching, a huge white plaster cat with blue eyes and one outstretched paw, in the fashion of the lucky cat figurines sold all over China and Japan. Behind the 10 foot tall cat stands a nice, ornate Chinese gateway opening up over one of the roads heading into the city, giving guests a warm feline welcome to the Cat City. Not far from there, another roundabout stands with a few smaller cats around a pillar, greeting each entrant into the roundabout. Then, just another few minutes from that point, the second most famous monument features a pedestal with six or eight large cat statues playing with each other, overlooking the main road that lines the river. On top of the statues, the numerous tourist shops lining the boardwalk feature any and all variations of cat figures, shirts, kitchen accessories and any other thing onto which you can plaster a cat. Ironically, none of the statues or souvenirs had the kinked/broken/stunted tail that almost every cat in Malaysia and Indonesia seem to have, looking as though they either had part of the tail chopped off or folded in half over itself, but I guess that's a genetic thing.

As I walked the streets, I stumbled across a few more historical buildings and the appropriately stately State Mosque, standing tall at the edge of the city, though this city is not exclusively Muslim, so there was also a nearby Sikh Temple with a few golden domes of its own, along with a few small Chinese Buddhist temples with the traditional stone lions standing guard at the gates. Wandering through town, I began looking for food, and, with Ramadan in full force, this was again not an easy task, though I eventually stumbled on a tiny shop with a few sheets covering the front entrance (to not offend those who do not eat during the daytime) and found some cheap roti canai, though it didn't tide me over for long. Moving down towards the boardwalk, I found the potential for many riverside cafes, though none of them were open during the day, taunting me with their menus and pictures posted on the small huts that serve as the restaurants with a few tables along the sidewalk. I eventually held out until sundown, contemplating getting one of the slightly more expensive Ramadan buffets offered as a hearty way to break the fast during the day, though I almost couldn't resist the sights and smells of the buffet at the Hilton hotel. The various skewers, chili and peanut sauces, numerous noodle dishes, fresh fruits and many other mouth-watering dishes enticed me to pass by the outdoor buffet three or four times, seriously contemplating a massive, wonderful feast, though I couldn't justify the price in the end. In a place where I can eat a tasty plate of noodles for about $2, I couldn't justify spending $25-30 on the buffet, though it was a tough decision. I finally settled for one of the small noodle houses along the river, getting a Thai inspired basil noodle dish that was decent and cheap, but it certainly wasn't as spectacular as the buffet would have been (or at least how I imagined it in my mind).

My other mission for the day was to get a haircut while in Malaysia, as I like trying to get haircuts in other countries, mostly because it's almost always way cheaper than in the US. This turned out to be a fairly easy task, especially given that so many Malaysians speak English, so I found a simple barber shop in the Chinese district, and after comparing a few prices, I sat down for a simple, uneventful $4 haircut and wash, preparing as much as I could for getting to Singapore, South Korea and Japan where things would be significantly more expensive. My next night at the cheap, cramped hostel was much better, which just a bit of British snoring to deal with, much simpler than the drunken college-style mess from the night before.

(One of the buildings across the river in downtown Kuching. The boardwalk is lined with a few nice street cafes overlooking the river, only opening after the sun went down...that Ramadan thing again. Also, the Hilton had an amazing buffet that smelled and looked incredible, and I was really, really close to splurging on the dinner, though I couldn't justify paying literally seven times what I was paying for my cheap hostel room for just one dinner. $3.50 vs $25 for those that were wondering.)

(The Istana Palace sits across the river further down, shining back across to the South side of the river and the center of town.)

(Kuching means cat in Malaysian, so the city features various statues of cats greeting visitors.)

(More cats facing all directions near a roundabout on the East side of town.)

(I found a nice, less-touristed area between a few of the cat statues, featuring tree-lined streets and some Chinese restaurants and shops. I also got a cheap haircut down this road, as I like to try my luck with haircuts in the countries I visit, especially since it's almost always cheaper than back home.)

(Though it's a Muslim country, there are still some pockets of strong Buddhism and Christianity. I'll let you guess which one this is.)

(The gates to a little Chinatown in Kuching, near a chaotic pedestrian shopping street and the State Mosque.)

(The State Mosque standing at the edge of downtown. I have no idea what those things in the grass are.)

(I believe this was a police precinct or something. I just liked all the pretty colors. I also love the Sarawak state flag, which you can see with the yellow, red and black. It's the one that's not a rip-off of a certain flag from my home country.)

(Another temple and its guardian dragon/dog thing.)

(This cat is the largest and most popular one, standing at the East edge of downtown, with nice Chinese style gates straddling the road behind it.)

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Kuching and Kubah National Park

Kuching means cat in Malaysian, and I'm not quite sure of the origins of the name of the city, but the city embraces their name with cat statues and pictures greeting you at various places around the city. I arrived in Kuching around 5 in the morning, having to wait until 6:30 to take the local bus from the long distance bus station into the center of town to find a place to drop my bags and go exploring for the day. The city is the capital of Sarawak (one of the two states in Malaysian Borneo), and it's definitely the biggest city anywhere in the area, also serving as a jumping off point for some travelers heading down to Indonesia, as the border is fairly close to the city in this final corner of Malaysia. On the ride into town, I found a fairly modern city, a few cat statues and eventually the riverfront area around which the tourist area is centered with some traditional shops and somewhat attractive storefronts, along with a few old and/or colorful buildings. I walked for a while and found my hostel on the other end of the main road, getting one of the cheapest places of my whole trip for only $3.50 a night for a shared room with 6 others, though it definitely wasn't all that clean or nice. I didn't mind, though, as I wanted to save any money I could at this point, getting ready for the price jump that I'd encounter in Singapore and particularly Japan.

After I walked around the city for a few hours, it was still early, so I decided to take a day trip over to Kubah National Park, just about 45 minutes outside of town. Unfortunately there weren't really any direct buses, but I managed to find a local minibus that gathered up some locals going in the same direction, and I soon got to the park, paying a little more than I should have, but it was still only a few dollars, so I didn't mind. Kubah National Park is the closest park to Kuching, and it is known for its huge variety of palms and frogs, though I'm not quite sure if those two facts are related or not. I was just looking for another typical Bornean rainforest, and I was attracted by the 'Waterfall Trail.' This is also way less popular than Bako National Park, along the coast, so I found the park almost empty. I spoke with the friendly ranger to get some ideas for the hikes, and then I was off, heading up the steep, paved road to the first trailhead. As usual, I was starting to sweat almost immediately, though I was able to find a bit of shade for a few stops. Down some steep banks, I scrambled to a few small, rocky cascades through the green forest, trying not to step in any holes where animals may be lurking.

I was happy to find that the Waterfall Trail was mostly downhill, a nice break after my steep climb up, though I was dreading the return part of the trip. The heavily wooded trail was similar to a few others that I had seen, covered in palms, ferns and towering trees, creating a mostly unbroken canopy above to keep the sunlight off for a little while. I passed just two or three people and came to the huge rock shelves through which the river has cut its way, walking along the wide, flat rocks, making sure to not slip on the fallen leaves covering parts of the rocks. Up to the left, I found a small waterfall dropping over a rock wall that looked like a stack of thin rocks piled on top of each other, revealing some of the layering process that created the area. Ahead and to the right, a much larger cascade spilled over similarly stacked rocks, creating a wide wall of water falling about 20 feet to a small pool below and then moving down through the stream amongst the boulders. While leaving, I noticed something on the edge of the rocks and saw a long, thin snake gliding around on the smooth surface. The dark green snake didn't appear to be dangerous to me, though it was a different story for the live frog dangling from the snake's jaws. I took a few pictures that I eventually showed the ranger, but he didn't know what kind of snake it was.

From the waterfalls, I climbed back up the steep trail, over roots and logs, though I veered off towards one of the other trails, sort of making my way back to the entrance and crossing over a ridge where a few trails converged, surrounded by a picturesque grove of tall, skinny trees shooting up to the darkening sky. Just a few minutes later, the rain came, and I was lucky enough to find a tiny shelter near the ridge, so I waited out the 20 minute storm, and then I made my way back down to the park entrance, tired from my recent treks and lack of sleep, along with the tropical sun sapping the energy out of me.

The buses back from the park were the hard part of the whole travel equation, since they don't really come at any set time. The ranger mentioned that if I was still around at 5, he could take me back to the city (for a small fee), but it was only about 2:30, so I figured I'd just start walking, hoping that I'd find a ride or a bus. If not, the main road was about 45 minutes away, so I just headed in that direction. Again, I wasn't too fond of walking in the hot sun, but I thought it would be my best option. Soon I got into a good rhythm and was barely sweating, making my way mostly downhill to the junction. Just before I made it, a nice university professor stopped and offered me a ride, so I jumped in, though he only took me about five minutes down the road to the bus stop, but that was good enough for me. I waited at the bus stop for about an hour, not seeing any sign of the minibuses that I hoped to find. Eventually, a driver with a sort of modified tow truck stopped for me, offering to take me to the main road back to Kuching, so I again jumped in and went along for the ride. We talked a bit about America (everyone has their own opinions on the country), and soon we passed a bus, so he sped up and beat the bus to the next stop, letting me off just in time to jump on the bus and get back downtown before the evening and more rain came. Back in Kuching, after the vicious storm of rain and wind passed, I walked along the waterfront, finding it a bit quiet due to Ramadan, though a few of the views of the stately buildings across the river were nice. This was a British colonial city at one time, so a few palaces and state buildings still remain from the time, giving Kuching just a slight bit of the historical feel that so many tourist cities try to harness these days. Just across the water is the Astana, built as one of the palaces for the local rulers during the colonial time, as well as Fort Margherita standing atop one of the hills across the river. The boxy fort looks picturesque and a bit imposing from the outside, but a few other travelers told me that the inside is basically barren, so it's a sight much better appreciated from afar, leaving your imagination to fill in what weapons and furnishings could have occupied the military post, named for one of the early settler's wives.

Back in the hostel, a few young roommates were just learning about the joys (and pitfalls) of independence, cheap alcohol and time away from their families, creating quite a bit of noise while first congregating in the room before I finally hinted that they may want to move outside around midnight. Then, around four in the morning, the group barged back in, loudly recounting their night to each other and waking every single person in the hostel as they banged repeatedly on the bathroom doors, since one of their friends had apparently passed out in the bathroom behind the locked door. Another of my partying roommates was throwing up right about the same time in the garbage bin, then basically passing out on his bed, as I hoped that would be all for the night/morning. I finally managed a little sleep, but it wasn't one of my more pleasant nights in a shared room. Fortunately, the majority of the group left the next day, so I was hoping for a more peaceful experience after that.

(More hot, humid, lush rainforest of Borneo, this time at Kubah National Park. This park is known for its large variety of palms and frogs, though I'm not sure if those two facts are related.)

(Near the top of the trail, there was a set of three waterfalls, along with a fourth one just to the left of this picture.)

(The falls were a little slippery, but I wisely made my way along the wet rocks to take this picture.)

(This is the fourth waterfall that you couldn't see before. The park was hot and humid with lots of hills, so I was pretty sweaty at this point.)

(Just downstream from the waterfalls, I noticed some movement in the leaves on these rocks, and I actually saw a snake slithering along.)

(He didn't seem to care about the incredible biodiversity of the frog species in the park, as he was carrying one of them away in his mouth.)

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Amazing Caves at Niah

Brunei wasn't big enough for me and the sultan, so one of us had to go, and it obviously wasn't going to be the sultan. My day and a half spent in the country were plenty to see the stately mosques and unique city, and after the noodle eating competition, I felt I had made my mark, and it was time to move on. Just before the bus left, in an effort to spend the last of my Brunei dollars, I found a tiny market and bought a whole dragonfruit, one of my favorite tropical fruits from the area. It's kind of like a mix of a pineapple shape with artichoke type leaves that you peel off to reveal either a magenta or white fleshy ball inside with tons of tiny black, edible seeds throughout. The fruit is sweet and a little bit sticky, and it made a perfect breakfast for the bus ride, unlike the roti canai with a plastic bag full of curry that an American girl was trying to eat without spilling all over herself.

I was soon in the town of Miri, a pleasant enough place near the coast where I decided I'd spend the night, though the city itself didn't have any huge attractions given my limited schedule. Walking around, I did find a small shopping mall where I stumbled upon a so-called talent competition. The participants were mostly 30 to 60 year old Chinese women, singing bad Chinese folk and pop songs, some even dressed up in traditional costumes or pseudo-cowgirl outfits. I could only stand a few minutes of the wailing, so I moved on, looking for some food. Again, with Ramadan, many of the local places were closed, but I found a small food court with a cheap Indian food stand, so I got a tray full of rice, bread and curry (and my beloved roti canai), and I actually ran into the three American girls that I had seen in Brunei and on the bus, who turned out to be English teaches in different parts of Malaysia.

My hostel for the night was good enough, but it was one of the biggest rooms that I've stayed in, containing something like 20-30 beds (10-15 bunk beds) in the huge room. This also meant someone (or multiple people) would be snoring, so I put in my earplugs and fell asleep. The next day, I caught the bus a few hours down the coast to Batu Niah, the entranceway to Niah Caves National Park. The bus didn't actually go to the park, so I had to get off at the junction and catch a taxi/local car to the park from there, bargaining down to a pretty cheap price. I was a little hesitant to get off the bus, though, as it was really comfortable, and I had the perfect spot, with lots of legroom in the front row, and the seats were split with just one large seat on one side and two on the other, so I had the one to myself, perfectly comfortable, plenty of room and a nice view of the road ahead. That would have been nice for the long bus ride ahead of me later that day, but I really wanted to see the park, so I made the stop.

The weather didn't look great that day, and, as before, it can basically rain at any time in Borneo, so I headed to the entrance, hoping I'd get lucky. I first had to take a tiny boat across a muddy river to get to the walkway, and then the track proceeded for a few miles on a boardwalk or a well-kept trail through the rainforest, luckily providing a few shelters for the passing rain that came and went. Huge palms, strangler figs, ferns and other plants lined the track through the greenery, gradually revealing a few hints of caves and creeks below. Then we began climbing up a series of inclines and steps, cresting the stairs to see the track was now protected by a limestone overhang with some stalactites poking down on the other side of the track. Soon I entered the first large cave, not very deep, but with a huge mouth opening into the forest with more stalactites slightly obscuring the view of the tree canopy below us. This, however, was not the cave that people come to see. Just a few minutes later, through a covered walkway and up a few more stairs, I saw the gigantic entrance to the Great Cave, the centerpiece of the park. Situated about halfway up the huge 394 meter (1,300 foot) limestone hill, the cave is one of the largest in the world, though I don't know how that's measured. Judging by this one, it may be volume. The mouth of the cave is almost too big to comprehend until you are standing there at the foot of it, looking around at the distant walls. The opening spans 250 meters (800 feet) wide by 60 meters (200 feet) tall. The tiny workers' hut at the entrance was the size of a house, yet it looked like a toy when compared to the scale of the gaping hole where the cave opens up to the outside world.

The area also has historical and cultural significance. Back in 1958, archaeologists found evidence of human occupation from over 40,000 years ago with rock paintings, tools, and a few random pieces. More recently, the local Penan people knew of this cave and a few nearby ones in the huge limestone cave system and used it to harvest the nests of the swiftlets (local birds), climbing up precarious bamboo ladders to reach the nests that are then used for the Chinese delicacy, bird's nest soup. The nests aren't quite as popular as they once were, as they were in danger of killing off the birds by over-harvesting, but it sounds like the birds are making a comeback. In addition to the birds, the caves are homes to huge numbers of bats, and it is estimated that at dusk, when the mass migration of birds coming back for the night and bats leaving for their hunt, covering the sky in waves of black, there may have once been 500,000 bats and 4 million swiftlets at one time. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to hang around for the show right after sunset, so I'd just have to trust my guidebook on that one.

Inside the cave, the path lead me around a massive central pillar, dividing the cave into two parts that would come back together on the other side. I proceeded down a set of slippery stairs, thanks to a mix of water and bat guano dripping from the ceiling high above. Soon, it was almost completely pitch black, and I was relying on my small flashlight that I picked up in Indonesia to guide the way. A long way off in the distance, I could see one of the small openings at the other side of the cave with just a bit of light shining through. Then, in front of me, there was an incredible sight with rays of intermittent sunlight streaming through a few small openings in the ceiling, illuminating a solid beam all the way to the rocks below. The stream of light seemed almost surreal, like a beacon pointing down towards a magical spot in the cave below. I obviously took my time getting some pictures and just marveling at the scene that was gone when I returned, as the angle of the sun had changed, and there were now clouds blocking its path. Moving on, the massive rooms of the cave began to narrow, taking us through a short, wide gap where I could tell that the top of the cave was only 10 or 20 feet above me. This was the darkest part of the cave, and I turned off my light a few times to see that there really was no sign of light coming from either direction, though I decided not to try to hide and scare the next walkers, but the thought did cross my mind.

Leaving the Great Cave out a smaller back entrance, more trails crossed through the forest to the Painted Cave, another cave with two huge openings, though not nearly as deep or cavernous as the first one. The Painted Cave is known for the rock paintings on the walls from thousands of years ago, along with a few excavated graves, though the sights honestly weren't that impressive, since it was hard to really see any of the faded paintings. Both caves did offer a nice bit of relief from the heat of the jungle outside, as well as the downpours that came and went during the day, so I could see why they were a popular spot for the local people living in the area.

On the way out, I made it back to the ranger's hut, but I had to wait around to try to find a taxi or a ride back to the junction to catch my next bus. Things were pretty quiet, though I eventually found a group that I had spoken with very briefly at the exit to the Great Cave. I asked if they'd be able to take me back to the main road, and the nice family agreed, so I piled into their SUV and started down the road. It turns out that they had come from Miri also, a group consisting of the father, son, daughter and daughter's friends from their church. We did a quick tour of the local down, basically just driving through the main road and heading back. Then, when we got to the junction a few minutes later, things looked a little different to me, but William told me that this was the intersection of the main road heading back to Miri or down to Kuching, my next stop, so I figured that I was just confusing a few of the hundreds of random street corners that I'd become acquainted with during the trip, hoping that he was right. We sat around the area for a little while, and the hospitable family and friends even treated me to a bowl of noodles and a drink while I waited for the buses to start appearing. Soon, they headed back, and I began wondering when the next bus might make its way to the junction. I was still a little skeptical about the whole location, though, so I asked a few of the restaurant workers and finally found out the truth. This was indeed ONE of the junctions on the Miri-Kuching road, though the major route (where the buses run) was the road about 10 kilometers inland from here. So I was really lucky to find such a kind family to have given me the ride and the meal, but it turns out that we weren't exactly headed to the same spot after all.

I crossed back over the street with my big bags, trying to find a ride back in the other direction, since it would be way too far to walk. Soon another local family stopped and asked where I was going, and I explained that I needed to catch the bus to Kuching, so they knew exactly where to take me. I wasn't exactly sure if they were also just being nice or were serving more as a taxi, so there were a few awkward moments when I got out of the car, with the driver and I staring at each other for a little while and smiling before I got out of the car. Things looked much more familiar here, and I recognized the small food court and bus stop, so I felt better about my chances for the connection that evening. Just as I was browsing the food stalls for my dinner, I saw a familiar face - the kid in the car with me a minute ago, mustering up the courage to ask for a bit of money for the ride. I gave him the same price I had paid to get there in the morning, though I felt bad for him having to ask, as I probably should have just offered to pay in the first place. I then sat down for some roti canai, and I even found a place that had rojak, the Malaysian version of the Indonesian rujak that was the amazing combination of peanut sauce, chili and fresh fruit. This version was far inferior, and I was a little disappointed, as some of the things in there seemed more like tofu, so I decided that I didn't want to further tarnish my image of rujak/rojak, so I'd not try ordering it again in Malaysia.

Finally, a few buses pulled into the stop for a bathroom break, and I spoke with the drivers and found an available seat, getting ready for the 16 hour overnight ride ahead of me all the way down to Kuching. As usual, the bus had its good and bad points: the seats were comfortable yet hard to sleep in, the air conditioning was nice but way too cold and we'd make stops in the middle of nowhere for coffee or bathroom breaks in the middle of the night, killing any chance at a good sleep. Even so, I was in Kuching the next morning, ready to spend my last few days in Borneo in and around the capital and biggest city of Sarawak state.

(Walking through the jungle at the Niah National Park, I started making my way under some limestone overhangs and soon saw the massive caves that make the park so special.)

(This first massive opening wasn't quite a cave yet, but it the hundred foot ceilings and huge opening provided a nice shelter from the intermittent rain.)

(Looking out from the first pseudo-cave, you could probably imagine some pretty interesting figures if your brain's imaginative powers weren't beaten down and crushed by years of mathematics and logic.)

(Inside the Great Cave, a few strong beams of light made their way through small holes in the ceiling, creating magical effects.)

(The surreal rays poured down all the way to the cave floor which was actually a few hundred feet below.)

(It looked like a beam of light shining on the lucky pot of gold, but I didn't investigate, as it was probably just a massive pile of bat guano.)

(Deep in the Great Cave, the passage narrowed, and it was pitch black when I turned off my flashlight - and wasn't taking a picture with the strong flash.)

(The walk between the Great Cave and the Painted Cave was on an elevated wooden boardwalk, keeping us above the thick undergrowth below.)

(This is the back entrance to the Painted Cave. If you notice the little people at the bottom, you'll get an idea for the size of the cave, and this was the smaller one. The opening to the Great Cave is 600 meters by 250 meters, and it's one of the largest caves in the world.)

(Coming back through the Great Cave on the way out, the rays weren't shining down to the floor, but I caught a few stragglers trying to make their way through the holes in the ceiling.)

(More of the walk back. I again waited at the mouth of the Great Cave while a large storm came through and then stopped almost as quickly.)

(The roots of the strangler figs are so big that you could hide in the nooks created by them. And then maybe it strangles you. I don't know.)

(Once you got to the river, you had to flag down the little kid to come get you with the tiny boat to cross.)

(Here's the super nice family and friends that gave me a ride from the park to the main road and treated me to some more mee goreng...though it turned out to be the wrong road...but we didn't know that, so it was still really nice of them.)

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Malaysian Borneo - Kota Kinabalu & Sepilok Orang-Utan Rehabilitation Centre

My brief time in Peninsular (West) Malaysia at the beginning of the trip came as a pleasant surprise with a good variety of landscapes, wildlife and great food, so I was anxious to return to Malaysia, especially since I'd be going to Borneo this time. Borneo refers to the two Eastern provinces of Malaysia, both situated on the top of the massive island shared with Indonesia. Just the name Borneo conjures up images of deep, dark jungles, unique animals, flooded rivers and endless adventure, and that's exactly why I wanted to visit. Unfortunately, I only had about 10 days in the area, so I'd have to make the most of it.

Getting back through Malaysian immigration, I met up with a Belgian traveler who wanted to share a taxi into the city. His brother already had a hostel downtown, and I didn't have any plans, so I went along, as did two other Germans, making the taxi quite cheap. When I arrived, the place seemed good enough, so I booked a bed in the dorm room and looked outside just as a massive downpour was beginning, sending sheets of water down the streets and flooding the gutters, though the locals didn't seem to blink an eye, as these torrential storms apparently come and go in the area. While in the hostel, I also met a Malaysian named Azri, along with his wife and four month old daughter. The super-friendly couple were just sitting down for dinner in the hostel after fasting for the whole day (this was right in the middle of Ramadan), and they insisted that I join them. This gave me a chance to try one of the local favorites - fish head curry. Obviously the name didn't appeal to me, but the brown, spicy curry was actually really good, eaten with bread, so I mostly just avoided the fish parts and picked out the sauce and vegetables. Both of them spoke English quite well, though the problem in Malaysia is actually that sometimes the locals are too confident with their English, which sometimes has a strong accent and uses local slang, so they speak quite quickly (as we all do in our native language) and a few phrases here and there were lost in the mix. Even so, Azri spent hours talking to me that night, fascinated to be talking to an American. Apparently he has a great interest in America and American history, so he impressed me with his knowledge of former wars, presidents and other significant events in our history. He was also very inquisitive, questioning me to fill in the blanks and provide some reasoning behind many of the facts that he had read or seen on tv. I had to rely on knowledge mostly acquired during my 10th grade US history class (about 11 years ago), though that was a great class, and I was happy that I actually remembered many of the details he wanted to know. He was also really, really appreciative, as a few of the wars and presidential decisions now made sense to him. Finally, about 1 in the morning, we both decided to get some sleep.

I was now in Kota Kinabalu (KK), the capital of the state of Sabah. It is the hub for the entire region, serving as a base for expeditions into the jungle, forays to the idyllic islands and world-renowned diving of the East coast islands and a starting point for the climb to Southeast Asia's highest mountain, Mt. Kinabalu. The one or two day climb up to the rocky point of Mt. Kinabalu takes you to 4,095 meters (about 13,000 feet), though it's not supposed to be the hardest of climbs. I had originally planned on climbing to the top, but with limited time and a few sweaty volcano climbs already undertaken in Indonesia, I decided that I'd pass on the hike, thinking that I should spend my time in Borneo on other things.

The next day I spoke with a few people and found a bus heading across to the East coast town of Sandakan, the home of the Sepilok Orang-Utan Rehabilitation Centre, the best known orangutan center in the world. Arriving at the bus terminal was one of the most chaotic scenes that I had come across in Malaysia. It was just a small place, but the touts spotted a tourist (me) in the taxi and the onslaught began. An entourage of six or eight guys yelled, screamed, tugged and did anything they could to get my attention and get me to buy a ticket from their company. During the confusion, I actually dropped my sunglasses out of my hand, but one of the men was nice enough to hand them to me, though I almost didn't notice, as I was basically trying to ignore the cacophony around me. The bus ride would be about six hours each way, but it turned out to be a beautiful road, so I was glued to my seat, staring out the window as we climbed the steep mountains backing the city and then began slowly making our way back down on a more gradual downhill, passing through views of mountain peaks covered in ethereal mist, thick forests with no signs of development and raging rivers below. The very scenery that I had come to Borneo to see was right there outside the bus window. As usual, we passed through a few rainstorms, though things cleared up when I arrived at the junction from the main road to the sanctuary where I hired a local driver to take me the 5 km down the road. With the aid of an extremely helpful worker at one of the travel agencies, I had made a few plans for the next few days and even booked a bed at the hostel, so it's a nice change to know where I'm going to sleep when I arrive in town. (And the agent didn't even make any commission, since I wasn't using any of his company's packages - a lot of the people here are truly just happy to help you when they can.) I got to the lodge, had another wonderful Malaysian chicken curry dinner and went to sleep, ready to see some primates.

The center was just about a 20 minute walk from my lodge, so I showed up right as it opened, waiting outside for a few minutes and deciding to have a little snack. I had picked up some cheap crackers for the bus ride and had some left over in my bag, which I found out was a really bad move in a place like Borneo. Though our hostel didn't seem to have any ants, at some point during the bus ride or the night, a whole colony had sniffed out my crackers and had taken over my backpack, so I spent the next 15 minutes cleaning out every piece in my bag, squashing hundreds of tiny little ants and trying to finish what was left of the crackers...anyone that knows me knows that I couldn't just throw them away and waste the food (and the 50 cents' worth that was left over). I also put on my bug spray, as you are not allowed to bring it into the sanctuary because some of the chemicals can be very harmful to the orangutans. Through the forest, an elevated wooden walkway leads you about 10 minutes to a viewpoint where a bunch of tourists gather in anticipation every morning and afternoon. The center was started in 1964 as a place to rehabilitate abused or orphaned orangutans, some that were kept as pets illegally, some that were abandoned, etc. Once rehabilitated, the orangutans were released into the wild, though many of them tend to come back for feedings every couple of days instead of finding food on their own. So at 10 and 3 every day, the workers gather bunches of bananas and fruit up on the platforms and see what comes out of the jungle. Standing there in the sweltering Bornean sun, I realized that the ocean breezes of the Keis had tricked me into thinking that I was completely accustomed to the tropical heat, and I was sweating just standing still with the sun beating down on my neck.

Soon enough, a few of the ropes hanging between the trees began to shake, and then one by one, the rust-colored apes began to emerge out of the thick, green foliage. They would swing down the ropes with incredible ease, making their way to the platform to grab a few bunches of food, hang around for a minute or two and then keep moving. The social hierarchy was also obvious, with a few waiting their turn or being chased away when the bigger ones came. The workers have names and know the characteristics, hair styles (yes, they do vary), personalities and everything about the orangutans, though it was hard to tell the difference from our vantage point, about 30 feet away. It was amazing to see the 'wild' animals appear out of the seemingly quiet forest and then disappear again a few minutes later, though the views of the animals weren't all that different from the Singapore zoo. The attraction is obviously that this is one of the very few places in the world to see these magnificent, endangered animals in the wild, observing their human-like movements and expressions and marvelling at their strength and agility.

I had originally planned on staying for both the morning and afternoon feeding and taking the late night bus back to Kota Kinabalu, but I decided that the first feeding was enough, as it would just be more of the same the second time around, so I caught a local bus back out to the junction, enjoyed a nice melon flavored popsicle and waited for the next bus. I had already bought a ticket for the 6 pm bus, and the workers at the center told me that they wouldn't let me change my ticket now, but I figured I would just play dumb when the 12:30 bus arrived. I flagged down the bus and did exactly that, with the driver and his assistant staring at the ticket for a while, muttering something to each other in Malaysian and letting me on. This put me back in KK with a little more time to relax, and it also gave me another chance to enjoy the incredible scenery along the bus route. Unfortunately, parts of the Eastern portion of the ride are lined with the oil palm plantations that have clear cut the land to plant rows of the thick palms, a huge problem all over Malaysia, but these eventually gave way to the natural beauty, offering rays of light shining down through the clouds and a colorful sunset just as we crested the high mountain pass and headed back into KK. I caught a local minivan back towards town and had to walk a few kilometers back into the city when I heard a car stop and someone say what sounded like "Derek." I was so used to ignoring random taxi and motorcycle drivers asking me if I wanted a ride that it didn't really register, but I looked back and saw Azri with his head out the car window. In the entire island of Borneo, there was probably one person that knew my name, and this was him, so it was quite a surprise to hear this. Later on in the hostel, he said he was happy to see me again, wanting to learn more about American history and putting in the Flags of Our Fathers dvd to ask me some war questions and learn about some of the little pieces to the war movie that he might not understand. The next morning I was up early again, ready to move South down the Bornean coast to Brunei, an interesting little country/kingdom just to the South.

(Back to the amazing food of Malaysia. This is a Chinese inspired black-bean noodle dish, as it's hard to find any true Malaysian places that are open during the day while Ramadan is being observed.)

(Yet another picturesque mosque of Malaysia. This was on the way to the bus station to get to the Sepilok Orang-Utan Rehabilitation Centre.)

(Just before 10 am, things were quiet in the Bornean rainforest, with the guides sitting on the platform, getting ready to pull out a few buckets of fruit for the orangutans who were lurking in the nearby forest.)

(Here's one of the first to arrive, already making his way back with a bunch of bananas in his foot.)

(One of the little guys was playing around while eating his bananas before being chased away by the bigger primates who were ready to eat.)

(They moved around the ropes and trees effortlessly which probably shouldn't be that surprising since that's where they live. Even so, it was incredible to watch their agility and grace.)

(They didn't seem to mind, but the tropical sun felt really hot in the humid forest. We were on a raised boardwalk nearby, observing the feeding.)

(Since this is a rehabilitation center, the primates aren't really that afraid of humans, though they do live on their own in the wild, and are free to come and go, so it was interesting to see them in their true, natural habitat, as there are very few places in the world where this can be done.)

(Two of the adolescents. Apparently they all have very distinctive markings, hair, hair color, faces, etc, but I couldn't tell the difference. But if you tell them that they all look alike, you get in big trouble.)

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The Pink Mosque of Putrajaya/Where Did Everyone Go?

My final day trip from KL took me to Putrajaya, just a short train ride away. This new city is being designed as the future home of the government and administrative capital of the country. Sort of like Canberra, Australia or Brasilia, Brazil, it is a completely planned city in the middle of nowhere, designed with the plan to bring people into the area with preplanned buildings, infrastructure, etc. As of now, not many people have moved here yet, so the long, wide avenues and huge city squares were pleasantly free of people, with the exception of a few tour buses here and there. There were also no motorcycles, which was a nice change from the loud mufflers of the big cities.

The center of town sits on a peninsula of land in a man made lake, connected to a few rivers around town. Along this narrow piece of land runs a wide road, leading to a huge circular park, with the mosque on one side and the Prime Minister's office on the other, both looking stately in their conspicuous settings. This would have been a really picturesque area except that the haze was exceptionally strong that day, so the grey sky blocked out the sun for the entire day. My first stop was the mosque, notable for its pink dome and setting on the edge of the lake. I wandered around the mosque, donning an obligatory robe in order to enter the compound. Looking into the elaborate room, the details are amazing. Tiny Arabic script etched in the walls, around the door and all over add to the look, and I was soon greeted by a guide who assured me that his service was free of charge. He politely explained to me the details of the mosque, the religion, some misconceptions and answered any other random questions about the place, the call to prayer, the meaning of a few things, etc. His wonderful explanations gave a great insight into the place, and I was happy to have had him there explaining all of the details that I would have missed.

Wandering more around town, I contemplated a boat cruise around the city, a popular way to see the attractions, though I decided the hazy day wasn't that conducive to sight seeing. The city also has nine noteworthy bridges spanning the waterways, each one constructed in a different, modern style, serving as attractions in their own right. I met up with a few groups of school children eager to interview for some sort of class project where they had to collect information about tourists in the area, all excited to meet an American instead of the typical Malaysian tourists. As I walked around more, I watched the lunch crowd emerge into the streets, leaving their offices, men in full suits and women in head scarves and nice dresses and high heels. The city had a sophisticated, clean, sanitized feel to it, worthy of a capital city, and I actually wished I had more time to explore, but I soon had to return back to Kuala Lumpur, enjoying the laid-back, stately elegance of Putrajaya, and getting a nice respite from the loud, busy capital city nearby.

(The lovely pink domes of the mosque of Putrajaya.)

(Stepping over some 'recommended' guard rails, I found an incredible view of the mosque, perched beautifully on the side of the river.)

(The Prime Minister's office, up a little hill, just to the side of the mosque. The town square/circle is one of the most picturesque blocks that I have ever come across.)

(More Arabic script on the top of a mosque. For some reason, Muslims seem to like that sort of stuff.)

(1. About to check into the local hospital after being sick from local food or 2. About to enter the mosque with the robe to respect local customs. Hint: local food is way too good to ever make you sick.)

(After a very interesting description of the history of the mosque and the religion in general and its significance in Malaysia, I was allowed to see the main room where the men pray. The women pray upstairs, apparently to avoid any sort of distraction while spending time talking to God. As my guide said, you don't want to be looking at a pretty girl and thinking about getting her email address while you're supposed to be praying.)

(Me and the self timer along the banks of the river, checking out another angle of the mosque.)

(This would be an incredible picture if not for the thick haze over the city that day. Apparently the smoke from forest fires in Indonesia makes this a common occurrence in the fall, so if anyone happens to go back in the spring, let me know.)

(Some of the local businessmen and businesswomen going out to lunch. As you can see, the women mostly still wear traditional attire, which is pretty interesting to see walking down the street.)

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