A Glimpse of "Last Time" in Borneo

The next morning we had breakfast. Then the headwoman's son, myself, and an older man climbed aboard the longboat. The longboat is just what it sounds like, a long boat. This one had a motor. We sped upstream for about half an hour before the secondary growth jungle gave way to virgin tropical rainforest. Suddenly we were in an enchanted world where the canopy high above, very high above, kept out most of the sunlight. Vines hung down from the trees, many from hundreds of feet tall and some twisted like a cork-screw. Bromeliads (plants that grow on the trunks of trees) were everywhere. Mangroves lined parts of the river and insects buzzed from all around, audible even over the motor, which was getting quieter as the river became smaller and had more bends.

Colorful birds appeared and disappeared as we made our way up river. I saw a number of kingfishers, one was black with a bright blue beak. Another bird I saw several times was a brilliant blue with an orange underside. I hadn't expected to be dazzled by the dragonflies. But along the river they were a sight to behold. They were very large and radiant, often a bright blue or red. They often followed the boat and when they entered the rare ray of direct sunlight they seemed to light up as if they had Christmas lights under their wings.

After an hour of this we reached the camp near the caves where Rumah Bilong residents live during the time they are collecting bird's nests and guano. This day there were just a few people there as the birds were nesting. One of the people spoke good English. After a lunch that included fern's head salad (quite good, really) and a nap, the English speaker and one other person led me to the caves.

The first cave was fairly small but had a huge opening where the birds nested. We shined our flashlights on the walls, and, sure enough, there were thousands of nests with tail-feathers sticking out. Some of the birds even landed on my shirt! The third cave was one to remember. After walking through the passages, we suddenly emerged in an enormous cavern with a huge opening covered with vines and lush green tropical growth. It was a stunning sight. We had to hike several miles to get to the fourth cave. The hike was memorable despite being hot and staggeringly humid. It took us right through thick, virgin jungle. The sound of exotic bird calls and strange insects went on constantly.

The entrance to the cave was the stuff of legends. It was covered with vines and lush growth, almost hidden. This one too had another opening at the end that was covered with tropical greenery. It was evening when we got back to the longhouse. At dinner the headwoman was proud to tell me (through her son) that we were about to have real Punan food. After the fern head soup and dog curry, I was dreading what might land on the plate, but there was nothing too weird. Not much that I could identify, but nothing identifiably weird.

The next morning I didn't have much to do but sit on the veranda and watch life go by as I waited for the boat back to Tatau. Some children played a game that involved tagging the white-skinned creature sitting on the bench. After a little while, a Punan man who spoke excellent English came by. We had an interesting chat about how things had changed. Like my Iban friend in Kuching, he used the term "last time" to mean "in the old days" and "this time" to mean "nowadays."

Last time the people talked to their gods by holding an egg in one hand and pointing a knife or other straight object at the sky with the other hand. Last time people had to get married to the person their parents chose. This time people can refuse marriages arranged by their parents. Last time the headman's children had to marry the children of the headmen of other longhouses. Last time the headman's bones were placed in small buildings on high stilts like the one I saw on my way in. This time they had Christian memorials. Last time young people farmed, fished, and hunted. This time they either go to the cities or work in the caves or for the timber companies. Last time everyone hunted and fished. This time the old men do that. Last time evenings were filled with dancing, singing, or crafts. That's when I remembered the old man I saw making a shield. That memory is forever etched in my head, a ghost from "last time." I wondered what would happen when the old men of today fade into last time.

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