NST Online / BERNAMA
2008/05/07
Sarawak revises rice production target to become self-sufficient under 9MP
KUCHING, WED:Concerned over the need to address food security, Sarawak is revising its rice production target to become 100 percent self-sufficient under the Ninth Malaysia Plan (9MP).
Deputy Chief Minister Tan Sri Dr George Chan told the Sarawak Legislative Assembly sitting here today, the state's target was to achieve 70 percent self-sufficiency level to catch up with that of the Peninsular under the 9MP.
The state minister for modernisation of agriculture was replying to Vincent Goh Chung Siong (BN-Pelawan), Robert Lawson Chuat (BN-Bukit Saban), Abdul Rahman Junaidi (BN-Pantai Damai), Wahbi Junaidi (BN-Saribas).
Abdul Karim Rahman Hamzah (BN-Asajaya), Joseph Mauh (BN-Tamin), Voon Lee Shan (DAP-Batu Lintang) and Chiew Chiu Sing (DAP-Kidurong) on the ministry's progress in increasing rice production in Sarawak.
Dr Chan said Sarawak — currently the nation's fourth largest rice producer, after Kedah, Perak and Kelantan — had achieved a self-sufficiency level of 53 per cent with total rice production of 124,544 metric tonnes (or equivalent to 207,573 metric tonnes of padi).
In line with the federal government's move to make Sarawak one of the major rice-producing areas, Dr Chan said 43,821 hectares in eight areas, including Limbang Valley, Paloh, Daro, Nanga Merit and Pulau Bruit, was identified as suitable for large-scale padi production.
The state government would embark on the development of the Sungai Sebelak area at Roban, involving 3,537 hectares, as the first granary to be implemented under the 9MP, he said.
He said the ministry would also start the rice estate in Tulai, Bintangor by the next season in September, by providing fertilisers and machinery, following the RM50 million federal grant announced by Chief Minister Tan Sri Abdul Taib Mahmud on Sunday for the state's emergency rice programme.
"It will take all our efforts...it is not going to be easy for the ministry as the local farmers have to change their mindset and accept a centralised management, practise efficient water control and use machinery to boost yields," added Dr Chan.
He said the state's target was to increase the existing padi yield of 2.8 metric tonnes to four per hectare annually, through the implementation of padi infrastructure improvement projects, besides promoting the use of high-yield varieties such as MR219, MR220 and MR232 or hybrid padi for double crop planting.
On the concern for sufficient rice supply and price increase, Dr Chan said, the government through Bernas, would ensure there was sufficient rice to meet the demand of customers while monitoring the stocks to prevent hoarding which could result in unreasonable price hikes.
"Currently, the state was 100 percent self-sufficient in the production of chicken, egg and pork as well as local fruits, vegetables and fish," he said.
However, he said, selected sub-tropical and temperate fruits and vegetables were imported to cater for the consumers' specific preference and choice while fish was imported for certain months of each year, ranging from 10,000-20,000 metric tonnes to supplement local supply.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Friday, April 4, 2008
Talk on how to preserve Kelabit highlands
http://www.easterntimes.com.my/index.php?news_id=1&news_content=6518
Talk on how to preserve Kelabit highlands
By Paula Chang
4/4/08
KUCHING: A talk entitled “The Living Landscape - Documenting and Preserving The Cultural Sites of The Kelabit Highlands”, jointly organized by Angkatan Zaman Mansang (AZAM) Sarawak, the Museum Department and the Sarawak Heritage Society, was presented by Sarah Hitchner at the Tun Abdul Razak Hall yesterday.
Sarah is in Sarawak for a reason. “I plan to become an applied anthropologist specializing in local, national, and international forest resource policy,” she said.
As stated in her published article for ‘Ecological and Environmental Ecology’, an open-access sholarly journal, she picked Kelabit Highlands for her research plainly because of its location which suited her interest in transboundary conservation as Pulong Tau National Park borders the Kayan Menterang National Park in Indonesian Kalimantan.
She shared with the public her research methods, the threats to the sites and suggestions to better preserve them.
With her grant money, she had purchased 7 GPS units for the villages there. Together with training and the GPS units, Sarah hoped that the Kelabit people would be able to continue to document their findings after she left.
She showed pictures of a Kelabit burial site which was destroyed by the vehicles from a logging company.
According to Sarah, “the villagers pleaded to these people to not to proceed but they (the drivers of the vehicles) proceeded anyway.”
Other threats to these sites included natural phenomena, archaeological excavations, local use of megalithic materials, local collection of cultural artifacts (such as beads), looting or vandalism by outsiders and development.
“Although the Kelabit people there want some development, they are afraid that it will be too commercialized.” She said.
“They have told me that they do not want Bario to be the next Mulu,” She added.
As for the villagers who had collected these artefacts, a lot of them said that they had to do it before these get destroyed, she told the audience.
Regarding the preservation of the sites, she said that sometimes the Kelabits were criticized for neglecting the sites. But she found out that they left the sites the way they were in order to preserve them.
The current efforts for protecting the sites include the International Timber Trade Organisation’s (ITTO) sponsored expansion of the Pulong Tau National Park and local initiatives taken by the villagers and guides. The local JKKKs have also resubmitted their proposals to the US Embassy to fence up these sites.
“I’m hoping to just get things started,” Sarah said, adding that much more work would need to be done to fully conserve the Kelabit highlands.
Johnny Lagang, a member of the Kelabit community, had intended to attend this talk but had missed it entirely due to other commitments. He told Eastern Times that he was interested in the talk as he believed that “Bario is getting worse because of logging.” He, however, managed to have Sarah’s email address so that he could keep himself updated on her findings.
As a doctoral student in the University of Georgia, USA, Sarah is currently attached to the Institute of East Asian Studies in Unimas. While in the village of Pa’ Lungan, she stayed with her adopted mother, Sinah Nabun, and adopted father, Nabun Aran. She was also given a beaded necklace by Sinah besides various Kelabit beaded bracelets.
Since the start of her research in the Kelabit highlands, she had submitted the following preliminary reports on her work to the Institute of East Asian Studies, UNIMAS and the Sarawak Museum - ‘The Role of Fruit Trees in Kelabit Agroforestry’, ‘The Living Kelabit Landscape’ and ‘Mapping The Living Landscape’.
Also present at the talk was Ipoi Datan, the assistant director of the Sarawak Museum Department who has been keeping abreast with her works.
Talk on how to preserve Kelabit highlands
By Paula Chang
4/4/08
KUCHING: A talk entitled “The Living Landscape - Documenting and Preserving The Cultural Sites of The Kelabit Highlands”, jointly organized by Angkatan Zaman Mansang (AZAM) Sarawak, the Museum Department and the Sarawak Heritage Society, was presented by Sarah Hitchner at the Tun Abdul Razak Hall yesterday.
Sarah is in Sarawak for a reason. “I plan to become an applied anthropologist specializing in local, national, and international forest resource policy,” she said.
As stated in her published article for ‘Ecological and Environmental Ecology’, an open-access sholarly journal, she picked Kelabit Highlands for her research plainly because of its location which suited her interest in transboundary conservation as Pulong Tau National Park borders the Kayan Menterang National Park in Indonesian Kalimantan.
She shared with the public her research methods, the threats to the sites and suggestions to better preserve them.
With her grant money, she had purchased 7 GPS units for the villages there. Together with training and the GPS units, Sarah hoped that the Kelabit people would be able to continue to document their findings after she left.
She showed pictures of a Kelabit burial site which was destroyed by the vehicles from a logging company.
According to Sarah, “the villagers pleaded to these people to not to proceed but they (the drivers of the vehicles) proceeded anyway.”
Other threats to these sites included natural phenomena, archaeological excavations, local use of megalithic materials, local collection of cultural artifacts (such as beads), looting or vandalism by outsiders and development.
“Although the Kelabit people there want some development, they are afraid that it will be too commercialized.” She said.
“They have told me that they do not want Bario to be the next Mulu,” She added.
As for the villagers who had collected these artefacts, a lot of them said that they had to do it before these get destroyed, she told the audience.
Regarding the preservation of the sites, she said that sometimes the Kelabits were criticized for neglecting the sites. But she found out that they left the sites the way they were in order to preserve them.
The current efforts for protecting the sites include the International Timber Trade Organisation’s (ITTO) sponsored expansion of the Pulong Tau National Park and local initiatives taken by the villagers and guides. The local JKKKs have also resubmitted their proposals to the US Embassy to fence up these sites.
“I’m hoping to just get things started,” Sarah said, adding that much more work would need to be done to fully conserve the Kelabit highlands.
Johnny Lagang, a member of the Kelabit community, had intended to attend this talk but had missed it entirely due to other commitments. He told Eastern Times that he was interested in the talk as he believed that “Bario is getting worse because of logging.” He, however, managed to have Sarah’s email address so that he could keep himself updated on her findings.
As a doctoral student in the University of Georgia, USA, Sarah is currently attached to the Institute of East Asian Studies in Unimas. While in the village of Pa’ Lungan, she stayed with her adopted mother, Sinah Nabun, and adopted father, Nabun Aran. She was also given a beaded necklace by Sinah besides various Kelabit beaded bracelets.
Since the start of her research in the Kelabit highlands, she had submitted the following preliminary reports on her work to the Institute of East Asian Studies, UNIMAS and the Sarawak Museum - ‘The Role of Fruit Trees in Kelabit Agroforestry’, ‘The Living Kelabit Landscape’ and ‘Mapping The Living Landscape’.
Also present at the talk was Ipoi Datan, the assistant director of the Sarawak Museum Department who has been keeping abreast with her works.
Need to mark cultural sites fast
The Borneo Post
4/4/08
Need to mark cultural sites fast
By Puvaneswary Devindran and Leyana Talif
KUCHING: There is a dire need to speed up efforts to mark the cultural sites in the Kelabit Highlands or they may get trampled upon unknowingly when development takes place in the area.
Researcher Sarah L Hitchner said several things need to happen to avert this, like getting the Global Positioning System (GPS) points of the cultural sites so that Forest Department Sarawak could insert them into maps.
According to her these maps will make sure that logging activities, for example, will not intrude into the demarcated areas.
"So there will be record of where the sites are on the map besides demarcations on the ground," she told reporters after giving a heritage talk entitled "The Living Kelabit Landscape- Documenting and Preserving The Cultural Sites of the Kelabit Highlands" at the state Museum here yesterday.
She could not say how many cultural sites in the highlands had been bulldozed as she had not visited these areas.
"I hear a lot of this (destruction) has happened to sites which I have not visited, so it's mostly hearsay…I can't confirm anything," said the researcher who has spent about two years learning about and living in the Kelabit Highlands.
Nonetheless, she pointed out that the Kelabit people knew the importance of marking the cultural sites there and had submitted proposals to get funding to do this.
She said the people there wanted the demarcations done but they needed money to buy the material and transport them there.
According to her, the Kelabits had even requested for assistance from the US Embassy and it went through a channel with other applicants for the other cultural preservation projects.
However, their request did not get through the first time probably because the proposal was not specific enough, she said, adding the proposal had been sent for the second time.
Hitchner said the people were also looking at different options on how to get the funding and these included the possibility of raising money within the Kelabit community itself.
On the marking efforts, Hitchner said International Timber Trade Organisation (ITTO) had done some considerable amount of work to mark the cultural sites there.
She said ITTO projects had been able to put up some yellow plaques and red paint and tape in some places which she deemed as 'a good start to many more'.
She said that cultural sites, many of which could be easily missed given the overgrown shrubs, should be fenced up and the areas within them cleared.
"Well, I think the process of documentation has started but there's still a lot more that needs to be done," she added.
Meanwhile, Hitchner passionately talked about the unique culture and history of the Kelabit people.
Her talk also covered the importance of the cultural sites in Pa' Lungan.
She touched on the theoretical framework of her research which touched on the historical ecology of anthropogenic landscape, political ecology of conservation and the participatory/emancipatory resarch methods.
The doctoral candidate from University of Georgia, USA also stressed that archaeological excavation, collection of cultural artefacts by locals, logging and also clearing of forest for agricultural purposes could pose grave threats to the sanctity of the cultural sites.
Some 50 people attended the heritage talk which was organised by State Museum Department together with Angkatan Zaman Mansang.
4/4/08
Need to mark cultural sites fast
By Puvaneswary Devindran and Leyana Talif
KUCHING: There is a dire need to speed up efforts to mark the cultural sites in the Kelabit Highlands or they may get trampled upon unknowingly when development takes place in the area.
Researcher Sarah L Hitchner said several things need to happen to avert this, like getting the Global Positioning System (GPS) points of the cultural sites so that Forest Department Sarawak could insert them into maps.
According to her these maps will make sure that logging activities, for example, will not intrude into the demarcated areas.
"So there will be record of where the sites are on the map besides demarcations on the ground," she told reporters after giving a heritage talk entitled "The Living Kelabit Landscape- Documenting and Preserving The Cultural Sites of the Kelabit Highlands" at the state Museum here yesterday.
She could not say how many cultural sites in the highlands had been bulldozed as she had not visited these areas.
"I hear a lot of this (destruction) has happened to sites which I have not visited, so it's mostly hearsay…I can't confirm anything," said the researcher who has spent about two years learning about and living in the Kelabit Highlands.
Nonetheless, she pointed out that the Kelabit people knew the importance of marking the cultural sites there and had submitted proposals to get funding to do this.
She said the people there wanted the demarcations done but they needed money to buy the material and transport them there.
According to her, the Kelabits had even requested for assistance from the US Embassy and it went through a channel with other applicants for the other cultural preservation projects.
However, their request did not get through the first time probably because the proposal was not specific enough, she said, adding the proposal had been sent for the second time.
Hitchner said the people were also looking at different options on how to get the funding and these included the possibility of raising money within the Kelabit community itself.
On the marking efforts, Hitchner said International Timber Trade Organisation (ITTO) had done some considerable amount of work to mark the cultural sites there.
She said ITTO projects had been able to put up some yellow plaques and red paint and tape in some places which she deemed as 'a good start to many more'.
She said that cultural sites, many of which could be easily missed given the overgrown shrubs, should be fenced up and the areas within them cleared.
"Well, I think the process of documentation has started but there's still a lot more that needs to be done," she added.
Meanwhile, Hitchner passionately talked about the unique culture and history of the Kelabit people.
Her talk also covered the importance of the cultural sites in Pa' Lungan.
She touched on the theoretical framework of her research which touched on the historical ecology of anthropogenic landscape, political ecology of conservation and the participatory/emancipatory resarch methods.
The doctoral candidate from University of Georgia, USA also stressed that archaeological excavation, collection of cultural artefacts by locals, logging and also clearing of forest for agricultural purposes could pose grave threats to the sanctity of the cultural sites.
Some 50 people attended the heritage talk which was organised by State Museum Department together with Angkatan Zaman Mansang.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
e-Bario: The Kelabit Gift to Malaysia
http://202.187.94.201/e-bario-the-kelabit-gift-to-malaysia-
e-Bario: The Kelabit Gift to Malaysia by Laura Lee
UNDP
Just picture this: rolling hills, fresh crisp air, the tranquil and serene environment greets and welcomes you the Kelabit Highlands of Bario. This indigenous community in Bario, Sarawak consists of warm and very friendly people. They lead simple lives of planting the famous fragrant Bario rice, hunt from the jungle for daily food or just trading in small business enterprise. Despite being so remote and cut off from nearby developed towns, the place produced some fine leaders in the country. Datuk Seri Idris Jala, the CEO of MAS hails from this Kelabit community of just over 5,000 people. Amongst others are many successful businessmen and women, academicians and high ranking government officials. Many who made it also returned to Bario to set up small business enterprises in hope of elevating their families out of poverty.
One such person is a local empowered women named Maszuin. Originating from Bario, she operates the local Mini Market called Y2K. The small business enterprise is likened to the "Megamall" to residents in Bario. Supplies from the more modern towns of Sarawak could usually be found at this quaint little shop although at somewhat higher prices due to the high costs of flying the merchandise into Bario.
Moving on to other members of the Bario community, there is a couple by the names of Lucy and David Labang. They operate a travel lodge longhouse in Bario. With internet connectivity via the e-Bario telecentre, the couple is able to communicate with tourists from all corners of the world wanting to make reservations to stay at their travel lodge. Guests staying at the Labang longhouse will be well taken care of with a good spread of local delicacies and warm Kelabit hospitality.
Adjourning from dinner, David will proceed to gather guests around a bonfire in their kitchen where some night entertainment entails. Skillfully playing a traditional instrument called 'sape' (boat lute), David will sometime play a duet with a younger member of the community. The lady members of his family might don their traditional headgear and take to the dance floor with the graceful movements of the hombill dance.
Bario, being so remote and cut off from the rest of the more developed areas in the surrounding region, do not even have proper roads. The more affluent members of the community will own 4WD vehicles to travel on the dirt tracks. The rest might just travel by motorcycles whilst some just walk to reach their target destinations. Electrification is supplied via solar power or generators. Despite being so remote and rural, ICT was able to bridge the digital divide when it arrived in Bario a few years ago. Connected via VSAT technology, e-Bario came into existence - the only telecentre in Bario and its surrounding region that provides connectivity to the world beyond the highlands of the Kelabits.
The benefits of ICT were tremendous especially in impacting and improving the livelihoods and economic conditions of the Bario people. From only 2 travel lodges, Bario now has 6 travel lodges. The fragrant high quality Bario rice is being marketed over the internet whilst family members were able to communicate with their loved ones outside of Bario - news that used to take weeks or months to arrive is now only a click of the mouse away.
e-Bario: The Kelabit Gift to Malaysia by Laura Lee
UNDP
Just picture this: rolling hills, fresh crisp air, the tranquil and serene environment greets and welcomes you the Kelabit Highlands of Bario. This indigenous community in Bario, Sarawak consists of warm and very friendly people. They lead simple lives of planting the famous fragrant Bario rice, hunt from the jungle for daily food or just trading in small business enterprise. Despite being so remote and cut off from nearby developed towns, the place produced some fine leaders in the country. Datuk Seri Idris Jala, the CEO of MAS hails from this Kelabit community of just over 5,000 people. Amongst others are many successful businessmen and women, academicians and high ranking government officials. Many who made it also returned to Bario to set up small business enterprises in hope of elevating their families out of poverty.
One such person is a local empowered women named Maszuin. Originating from Bario, she operates the local Mini Market called Y2K. The small business enterprise is likened to the "Megamall" to residents in Bario. Supplies from the more modern towns of Sarawak could usually be found at this quaint little shop although at somewhat higher prices due to the high costs of flying the merchandise into Bario.
Moving on to other members of the Bario community, there is a couple by the names of Lucy and David Labang. They operate a travel lodge longhouse in Bario. With internet connectivity via the e-Bario telecentre, the couple is able to communicate with tourists from all corners of the world wanting to make reservations to stay at their travel lodge. Guests staying at the Labang longhouse will be well taken care of with a good spread of local delicacies and warm Kelabit hospitality.
Adjourning from dinner, David will proceed to gather guests around a bonfire in their kitchen where some night entertainment entails. Skillfully playing a traditional instrument called 'sape' (boat lute), David will sometime play a duet with a younger member of the community. The lady members of his family might don their traditional headgear and take to the dance floor with the graceful movements of the hombill dance.
Bario, being so remote and cut off from the rest of the more developed areas in the surrounding region, do not even have proper roads. The more affluent members of the community will own 4WD vehicles to travel on the dirt tracks. The rest might just travel by motorcycles whilst some just walk to reach their target destinations. Electrification is supplied via solar power or generators. Despite being so remote and rural, ICT was able to bridge the digital divide when it arrived in Bario a few years ago. Connected via VSAT technology, e-Bario came into existence - the only telecentre in Bario and its surrounding region that provides connectivity to the world beyond the highlands of the Kelabits.
The benefits of ICT were tremendous especially in impacting and improving the livelihoods and economic conditions of the Bario people. From only 2 travel lodges, Bario now has 6 travel lodges. The fragrant high quality Bario rice is being marketed over the internet whilst family members were able to communicate with their loved ones outside of Bario - news that used to take weeks or months to arrive is now only a click of the mouse away.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2007/9/23/focus/18870189&sec=focus
Sunday September 23, 2007
Long trek to school pays off
By SUHAINI AZNAM
Forty years ago, the Lun Bawang were “the poorest natives of Sarawak”. Education was the only way out of their hand-to-mouth existence, but going to school entailed a long trek over hills and rivers. They persisted, and today some are pillars in their chosen professions.
WE walked three days to school – and three days back, said Freddie Acho Bian, 47, a senior bank officer and liaison chief of the Dayak Chamber of Commerce and Industry.
“Three days? Three hours, you mean,” I said.
Freddie looked at me steadily. “No, three days. Term holidays then were only two weeks long, and we would get to spend only half of them at home.”
Thus began the tale of their journey – the Lun Bawang walkabout – when children as young as seven would walk for hours, even days, to get to school.
“We would leave school at Friday lunchtime, and run kaki ayam (barefoot) to reach home for dinner,” recalled Freddie, whose education began in a primary school in Long Luping, which was about five hours' trek from home. Fortunately, the school had boarding facilities for children from distant villages, and Freddie was one of those boarders.
The primary school in Long Luping still stands, serving a cluster of surrounding villages linked by a pebbled road.
“Our school had one hostel, half for the girls, half for boys. We had blankets but no mattresses, no pillows, no kerosene light.
“We had no books, just small black boards, which we wiped off. And we collected stones for counting in arithmetic class.”
The youngest children carried one milk tin of rice each as his weekly contribution to the communal larder. His eldest sibling carried six. This was Lun Bawang democracy – each according to his ability, rather than his need.
“We were so hungry,” recalled Freddie laughing. “Sometimes, some of us managed to smuggle beras (uncooked rice grains) which we hid from the cook and ate raw.”
“And what did you eat the (cooked) rice with,” I naively asked.
An embarrassed pause: “Nothing... just rice, with salt,” said Freddie softly.
“Sometimes there was enough money left over and they would buy us canned sardines. That was such a treat!”
Unbeknown to them, the strapping cook in charge of feeding them, Miriam Ukul, now 60, was also afraid of them. “The children back then were so big,” she laughed.
“Food was scarce,” she conceded. For the 10am break, biscuits did little to hush rumbling tummies.
“It was a school rule that we must not eat the rice raw, even if it's your own,” said Freddie's elder brother, lawyer cum politician Baru, 49, soberly. “I was caned once for that.”
”Sometimes we caught ikan telapia (fish) from people's sawah (padi fields) and cooked it in any tin we could find,” said Baru, an environmentalist who today champions customary native land rights.
Far from their parents, the children quickly learnt responsibility. Miriam would send the girls to look for ferns and the boys to chop firewood for the school and teachers.
“Can you imagine entrusting a parang to little boys in Primary Three?” said Freddie.
This dexterity with the parang proved fortuitous. Years later, having been warned about the ragging at the then Mara Institute of Technology, Freddie, Baru and a few other Sarawak “freshies” took the precaution of smuggling a parang each onto the plane.
Seniors from the peninsula had second thoughts as legend spread about “our wild head hunters' instinct,” laughed Freddie.
Continuing the account of their early school days, Baru said: “We woke up very early. At 6am, in the fog and mist, we were forced to do physical exercise.
“At 6.30am we were made to go to the Batang (River) Penipil and jump in. It was so cold, you could see the steam rising. Some of us cheated by just dabbing water on our T-shirts.”
“If you had two pairs of blue (school) shorts, you were lucky,” said Freddie. We would wash and dry them on the rocks while we bathed in the stream.
“We were just little boys and the shorts would smell of urine. We didn't even have bar soap.
“The cows liked the smell of urine and ate our shorts. So the boy with only one pair had to borrow from a friend or run back naked.
“At Standard Six, all the students would sit for a common entrance exam. One fifth would make it.”
The villagers would hold a big party for those who graduated. They were then told that they would be going to a faraway land.
That distant land was Lawas, the district capital 98km away from Long Semadoh, from where Freddie’s three-day walk began.
Lower secondary introduced many alien things to the children – their first taste of bread, noodles, fluorescent tube lighting “which flickered before it came on”, first flush toilet and toilet brush, which the children naively used to scrub their backs.
Struggle against poverty
Schooling was free but there were still uniforms, books, stationary and shoes to buy.
For Jameson Tai, 45, the children's youngest maternal uncle who grew up with the Bian brothers, “it was a personal struggle against poverty, to make a change – not just for you but for your family”.
“I didn't have money for ice cream but it was okay. I had RM5 in my pocket to start school with.”
For entertainment, those boys with a little spare cash would catch the latest movies in town. Bruce Lee was a favourite. Tickets were only 50 cents for the cheapest front row seats. Notwithstanding the crick in their necks, they returned to their dormitories as heroes, reliving the entire movie, animated with flying kicks, for their buddies.
Apart from the hardships, there was homesickness.
“At first, Mina and Baru cried having to go to Lawas,” recalled their mother, Takong Taie, 69.
“They were not accustomed to being so far away, they had never been separated from me. I cried too.”
But with each new year, another child would enter school. Older siblings became their comfort points and their guides on the long trek home.
“We walked from 6am to 6pm, stopping only for lunch. These were packets of rice, wrapped in leaves, packed by kind villagers at whose longhouses we had stayed the previous night,” described Baru.
“It was funny, the thought of going home,” he laughed. “It always took us longer to go back to school than going home!”
The last subject before school let out at noon on Fridays was singing, recalled Freddie. “We were so happy, singing evergreens (such as Red River Valley and John Denver's Back Home Again) at the top of our voices.
“Then the bell rang and we would pick up our few belongings and just dash out!”
Until today, Freddie, an avid guitarist, and his buddies still get together for jam sessions where they would sing in parts. Malaysia Airlines (MAS) managing director and CEO Datuk Idris Jala, a Kelabit from Bario, plays regularly with the band.
But the walkabout has left a psychological scar. In end 2005, Freddie took his own two sons jungle trekking. “It brought back bitter memories. I have had enough. I don't want my sons to suffer like me.”
Freddie remembers his first pair of shoes. “I loved them so much, I slept beside them. I didn't want them to go away.”
To save their only pair of shoes for school, the children walked home barefoot, wrapping their feet in vines to protect the soles.
“Some children could afford slippers but even these would snap. Barefoot was better,” said Jameson. “Rain or mud, we didn't stop.”
They walked without a compass, relying on memory and the curve of the river to guide them home.
“Some of the hills were steep and we just grabbed whatever we could, vines or bamboo, to haul ourselves up,” he recalled.
“And we sang to make the journey shorter. The advance party would rest and wait for the others to catch up. We had a rule among ourselves that we would never split up the group. Sometimes the bigger boys ahead would catch a squirrel or a monkey and roast it. It was so delicious. It taught us to share what little we had.”
Baru pays the highest tribute to the villagers who fed and sheltered them along the way.
“Can you imagine, three days, two nights walk from Lawas into Long Kerbangan (where their father, the late Pastor Bian Labo, retired). Over 100 kids walking, and they had to feed us.
“Once we reached the Irang Riak (Coughing Hill), we knew we were almost home,” said Jameson.
“But the steep slopes were terrible. The muddy heels of the kid in front of you were in your face.”
Three days and three nights and the Long Semadoh kids reached home. Every end of term, the Bario children flew home – they had no choice.
The Ba'kelalan boys had it the hardest, recalled Jameson. “At one point, they would have to cross the Sungai Beluyu 28 times as it cut its way up the mountainside.”
“It's a mark of the Lun Bawang, I guess.
“Our girls have pretty faces but when you look at their legs, they are thick and sturdy,” said Jameson.
For all their deprivations, those children are today pillars in their chosen professions.
Many came from poor but respected families of note. The Bians, the Tagals, the Langub Pengirans and Buaya Tadems were all barefoot children of the misty highlands. Today they have emerged to do their families proud.
Sunday September 23, 2007
Long trek to school pays off
By SUHAINI AZNAM
Forty years ago, the Lun Bawang were “the poorest natives of Sarawak”. Education was the only way out of their hand-to-mouth existence, but going to school entailed a long trek over hills and rivers. They persisted, and today some are pillars in their chosen professions.
WE walked three days to school – and three days back, said Freddie Acho Bian, 47, a senior bank officer and liaison chief of the Dayak Chamber of Commerce and Industry.
“Three days? Three hours, you mean,” I said.
Freddie looked at me steadily. “No, three days. Term holidays then were only two weeks long, and we would get to spend only half of them at home.”
Thus began the tale of their journey – the Lun Bawang walkabout – when children as young as seven would walk for hours, even days, to get to school.
“We would leave school at Friday lunchtime, and run kaki ayam (barefoot) to reach home for dinner,” recalled Freddie, whose education began in a primary school in Long Luping, which was about five hours' trek from home. Fortunately, the school had boarding facilities for children from distant villages, and Freddie was one of those boarders.
The primary school in Long Luping still stands, serving a cluster of surrounding villages linked by a pebbled road.
“Our school had one hostel, half for the girls, half for boys. We had blankets but no mattresses, no pillows, no kerosene light.
“We had no books, just small black boards, which we wiped off. And we collected stones for counting in arithmetic class.”
The youngest children carried one milk tin of rice each as his weekly contribution to the communal larder. His eldest sibling carried six. This was Lun Bawang democracy – each according to his ability, rather than his need.
“We were so hungry,” recalled Freddie laughing. “Sometimes, some of us managed to smuggle beras (uncooked rice grains) which we hid from the cook and ate raw.”
“And what did you eat the (cooked) rice with,” I naively asked.
An embarrassed pause: “Nothing... just rice, with salt,” said Freddie softly.
“Sometimes there was enough money left over and they would buy us canned sardines. That was such a treat!”
Unbeknown to them, the strapping cook in charge of feeding them, Miriam Ukul, now 60, was also afraid of them. “The children back then were so big,” she laughed.
“Food was scarce,” she conceded. For the 10am break, biscuits did little to hush rumbling tummies.
“It was a school rule that we must not eat the rice raw, even if it's your own,” said Freddie's elder brother, lawyer cum politician Baru, 49, soberly. “I was caned once for that.”
”Sometimes we caught ikan telapia (fish) from people's sawah (padi fields) and cooked it in any tin we could find,” said Baru, an environmentalist who today champions customary native land rights.
Far from their parents, the children quickly learnt responsibility. Miriam would send the girls to look for ferns and the boys to chop firewood for the school and teachers.
“Can you imagine entrusting a parang to little boys in Primary Three?” said Freddie.
This dexterity with the parang proved fortuitous. Years later, having been warned about the ragging at the then Mara Institute of Technology, Freddie, Baru and a few other Sarawak “freshies” took the precaution of smuggling a parang each onto the plane.
Seniors from the peninsula had second thoughts as legend spread about “our wild head hunters' instinct,” laughed Freddie.
Continuing the account of their early school days, Baru said: “We woke up very early. At 6am, in the fog and mist, we were forced to do physical exercise.
“At 6.30am we were made to go to the Batang (River) Penipil and jump in. It was so cold, you could see the steam rising. Some of us cheated by just dabbing water on our T-shirts.”
“If you had two pairs of blue (school) shorts, you were lucky,” said Freddie. We would wash and dry them on the rocks while we bathed in the stream.
“We were just little boys and the shorts would smell of urine. We didn't even have bar soap.
“The cows liked the smell of urine and ate our shorts. So the boy with only one pair had to borrow from a friend or run back naked.
“At Standard Six, all the students would sit for a common entrance exam. One fifth would make it.”
The villagers would hold a big party for those who graduated. They were then told that they would be going to a faraway land.
That distant land was Lawas, the district capital 98km away from Long Semadoh, from where Freddie’s three-day walk began.
Lower secondary introduced many alien things to the children – their first taste of bread, noodles, fluorescent tube lighting “which flickered before it came on”, first flush toilet and toilet brush, which the children naively used to scrub their backs.
Struggle against poverty
Schooling was free but there were still uniforms, books, stationary and shoes to buy.
For Jameson Tai, 45, the children's youngest maternal uncle who grew up with the Bian brothers, “it was a personal struggle against poverty, to make a change – not just for you but for your family”.
“I didn't have money for ice cream but it was okay. I had RM5 in my pocket to start school with.”
For entertainment, those boys with a little spare cash would catch the latest movies in town. Bruce Lee was a favourite. Tickets were only 50 cents for the cheapest front row seats. Notwithstanding the crick in their necks, they returned to their dormitories as heroes, reliving the entire movie, animated with flying kicks, for their buddies.
Apart from the hardships, there was homesickness.
“At first, Mina and Baru cried having to go to Lawas,” recalled their mother, Takong Taie, 69.
“They were not accustomed to being so far away, they had never been separated from me. I cried too.”
But with each new year, another child would enter school. Older siblings became their comfort points and their guides on the long trek home.
“We walked from 6am to 6pm, stopping only for lunch. These were packets of rice, wrapped in leaves, packed by kind villagers at whose longhouses we had stayed the previous night,” described Baru.
“It was funny, the thought of going home,” he laughed. “It always took us longer to go back to school than going home!”
The last subject before school let out at noon on Fridays was singing, recalled Freddie. “We were so happy, singing evergreens (such as Red River Valley and John Denver's Back Home Again) at the top of our voices.
“Then the bell rang and we would pick up our few belongings and just dash out!”
Until today, Freddie, an avid guitarist, and his buddies still get together for jam sessions where they would sing in parts. Malaysia Airlines (MAS) managing director and CEO Datuk Idris Jala, a Kelabit from Bario, plays regularly with the band.
But the walkabout has left a psychological scar. In end 2005, Freddie took his own two sons jungle trekking. “It brought back bitter memories. I have had enough. I don't want my sons to suffer like me.”
Freddie remembers his first pair of shoes. “I loved them so much, I slept beside them. I didn't want them to go away.”
To save their only pair of shoes for school, the children walked home barefoot, wrapping their feet in vines to protect the soles.
“Some children could afford slippers but even these would snap. Barefoot was better,” said Jameson. “Rain or mud, we didn't stop.”
They walked without a compass, relying on memory and the curve of the river to guide them home.
“Some of the hills were steep and we just grabbed whatever we could, vines or bamboo, to haul ourselves up,” he recalled.
“And we sang to make the journey shorter. The advance party would rest and wait for the others to catch up. We had a rule among ourselves that we would never split up the group. Sometimes the bigger boys ahead would catch a squirrel or a monkey and roast it. It was so delicious. It taught us to share what little we had.”
Baru pays the highest tribute to the villagers who fed and sheltered them along the way.
“Can you imagine, three days, two nights walk from Lawas into Long Kerbangan (where their father, the late Pastor Bian Labo, retired). Over 100 kids walking, and they had to feed us.
“Once we reached the Irang Riak (Coughing Hill), we knew we were almost home,” said Jameson.
“But the steep slopes were terrible. The muddy heels of the kid in front of you were in your face.”
Three days and three nights and the Long Semadoh kids reached home. Every end of term, the Bario children flew home – they had no choice.
The Ba'kelalan boys had it the hardest, recalled Jameson. “At one point, they would have to cross the Sungai Beluyu 28 times as it cut its way up the mountainside.”
“It's a mark of the Lun Bawang, I guess.
“Our girls have pretty faces but when you look at their legs, they are thick and sturdy,” said Jameson.
For all their deprivations, those children are today pillars in their chosen professions.
Many came from poor but respected families of note. The Bians, the Tagals, the Langub Pengirans and Buaya Tadems were all barefoot children of the misty highlands. Today they have emerged to do their families proud.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Decorated soldier now a squatter
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2007/8/18/nation/18618106&sec=nation
Saturday August 18, 2007
Decorated soldier now a squatter
By STEPHEN THEN
MIRI: He was a decorated soldier and policeman. In the 34 years he served the nation, Ngalinuh Bala saved lives and survived bullet wounds.
But Bala, 66, a Kelabit native, is a far cry from who he was before.
Semi-paralysed after suffering a stroke, he has been living in a squatter area without piped water and electricity in Taman City.
“What I hope for is a piece of land of my own; is it too much to ask? I have spent my life savings of RM75,000 to build this house on this plot of vacant government land.
“I have no title to this land. I have to use rainwater to cook and drink. I have to use my own generator for electricity.
“I am not asking for recognition or financial reward. All I want is a proper place to live in,” Bala said slowly and in a soft tone when interviewed at his squatter house earlier this week.
Bala was a soldier in the British Army in then Malaya and later in the Malaysian Field Force.
He received six awards for bravery from the British, Brunei Sultanate and Malaysian and state governments.
In 1972, Bala received the Seri Pahlawan Gagah Perkasa, the nation’s highest award for a soldier, from the King.
He holds the awards, letters of commendations and medals close to his heart but hopes he will get his 50th Merdeka wish – good health and a place to call his home.
On Thursday, the Rurum Kelabit Sarawak and Kelab Sukan Highlanders gave him RM2,000 for his daily needs.
“We consider him a community hero. We hope the Government will help him.
“Some people who achieved little in sports have got more than this hero,” said Sarawak Kelabit Association chairman Dick Bala.
Saturday August 18, 2007
Decorated soldier now a squatter
By STEPHEN THEN
MIRI: He was a decorated soldier and policeman. In the 34 years he served the nation, Ngalinuh Bala saved lives and survived bullet wounds.
But Bala, 66, a Kelabit native, is a far cry from who he was before.
Semi-paralysed after suffering a stroke, he has been living in a squatter area without piped water and electricity in Taman City.
“What I hope for is a piece of land of my own; is it too much to ask? I have spent my life savings of RM75,000 to build this house on this plot of vacant government land.
“I have no title to this land. I have to use rainwater to cook and drink. I have to use my own generator for electricity.
“I am not asking for recognition or financial reward. All I want is a proper place to live in,” Bala said slowly and in a soft tone when interviewed at his squatter house earlier this week.
Bala was a soldier in the British Army in then Malaya and later in the Malaysian Field Force.
He received six awards for bravery from the British, Brunei Sultanate and Malaysian and state governments.
In 1972, Bala received the Seri Pahlawan Gagah Perkasa, the nation’s highest award for a soldier, from the King.
He holds the awards, letters of commendations and medals close to his heart but hopes he will get his 50th Merdeka wish – good health and a place to call his home.
On Thursday, the Rurum Kelabit Sarawak and Kelab Sukan Highlanders gave him RM2,000 for his daily needs.
“We consider him a community hero. We hope the Government will help him.
“Some people who achieved little in sports have got more than this hero,” said Sarawak Kelabit Association chairman Dick Bala.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Idris Jala’s dad flies high
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2007/8/4/nation/18498509&sec=nation
Saturday August 4, 2007
Idris Jala’s dad flies high
By STEPHEN THEN
MIRI: Datuk Idris Jala may be the talk among corporate circles for his turning around of Malaysia Airlines (MAS), but the Sarawakian had to take a backseat yesterday.
Not that the MAS managing director minded. It was his 75-year-old father who was being honoured by the Sarawak Government for his outstanding role as a community leader.
Henry Jala Tamalai was awarded the post “Pemanca” (equivalent to that of paramount leader), the highest state honour for the minority 7,000 Kelabit community.
Standing before Miri Resident Ose Murang and other local community leaders here, Henry was only the second in the community to be granted the honour.
The gritty highlander from Bario was the first Kelabit teacher to win the National Tokoh Guru award.
“I am very grateful to the government. I hope to use this post to improve the welfare and livelihood of our small community.
“Most of the Kelabits live in isolated areas,” said Henry, who looked fit despite his age.
Tamalai can be equally proud of Idris and his three other children, who grew up in the Bario Highlands of interior Miri, as they are all high achievers.
Ba’kelalan assemblyman Nelson Balang Rining, who attended the brief ceremony, said he was confident that Henry would play a significant role in his new capacity.
Saturday August 4, 2007
Idris Jala’s dad flies high
By STEPHEN THEN
MIRI: Datuk Idris Jala may be the talk among corporate circles for his turning around of Malaysia Airlines (MAS), but the Sarawakian had to take a backseat yesterday.
Not that the MAS managing director minded. It was his 75-year-old father who was being honoured by the Sarawak Government for his outstanding role as a community leader.
Henry Jala Tamalai was awarded the post “Pemanca” (equivalent to that of paramount leader), the highest state honour for the minority 7,000 Kelabit community.
Standing before Miri Resident Ose Murang and other local community leaders here, Henry was only the second in the community to be granted the honour.
The gritty highlander from Bario was the first Kelabit teacher to win the National Tokoh Guru award.
“I am very grateful to the government. I hope to use this post to improve the welfare and livelihood of our small community.
“Most of the Kelabits live in isolated areas,” said Henry, who looked fit despite his age.
Tamalai can be equally proud of Idris and his three other children, who grew up in the Bario Highlands of interior Miri, as they are all high achievers.
Ba’kelalan assemblyman Nelson Balang Rining, who attended the brief ceremony, said he was confident that Henry would play a significant role in his new capacity.
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