After Bako, Alex, Jenny, Olof, Dave (an Australian traveler we met at our guesthouse), and I arranged a tour to go out to the longhouses of the Iban people. We decided to stay 3 days/2 nights so that Alex and I could make it back to Kuching on Saturday before flying out Sunday morning. So, we headed off early thursday morning with our driver and guide, Paul, stopping here and there to show us pepper plants on the side of the road and for lunch at rest stop, before we made it to the river that the Iban live along. We left our van parked in a shady spot under the trees and went down to the river where a couple of Iban boat men were waiting to take us up river to their home. We motored in long wooden boats up a river that looked like your typical jungle scene for about 30 minutes before their longhouse came into sight. The people who lived in this longhouse had built a separate longhouse to lodge tourists, which certainly made it slightly more comfortable for us, while still being able to observe and take part in activities with those who lived there. Jenny mentioned that the longhouse was rather like a barn for humans. It was basically a long wooden structure with cubicle after cubicle containing two damp mattresses and a mosquito net. After dropping our stuff on our beds, we had some tea and went up to the main longhouse to meet the people who lived there. It was very interesting walking through the place and meeting a shaman, the chief, as well some of the young men and women and their children. We saw how they built the house, and watched many women weave traditional ratan mats for the floors. We also sat around and drank a lot of whiskey and rice wine with the men. In fact, it appears that most of the men pass their entire day, every day, sitting around and drinking.

The longhouses are mostly stuck somewhere in between old traditions and modern life. I think they mostly maintain certain practices and build their houses in the traditional structure for the sake of tourists, though no doubt there are some tribes deeper in the jungle who have more genuinely maintained their culture. The people in this tribe were primarily christian (we met others in another house who were all bahai- seems the missionaries made their mark on this part of the world), and had many religious posters tacked to their doors. We also got a few secret peeps behind the hidden doors to the families' private quarters where we could hear music blasting out over speakers and where we were told there were televisions and many other conveniences of the modern world. And of course, I didn't mind the fact that they had a generator that provided electricity, as well as running water that enabled for decent toilets and showers!

The next day we went on a short hike through the forest and learned about making rubber, setting traps for hunting (very ingenious contraptions made of sticks and string, etc), and saw some old burial grounds. Oh, we also got to use the blowpipe (you know like in Indiana Jones - or was it Sherlock Holmes or something like that?- where the tribal people blow poison darts at their enemies?). It was surprisingly easy to accurately hit a target- I succeeded in piercing the designated papaya on my second try. Then it was back to the boats for a trip up-river and an afternoon spent swimming around in the river and cooking lunch over a fire. We roasted meat and had some rice and cucumbers cooked inside bamboo tubes.

That afternoon when we took the boats back to the longhouses we were surprised when our boatman leaped out of the boat past us and sprinted up the muddy embankment, returning a minute later with a gun. He and the other boatman took off back up the river with the gun, leaving us all curious on the bank, wondering what they had seen. We heard a shot ring out and about ten minutes later they were back with a giant iguana lying on the bottom of the boat. So that evening we had a special "treat"- roasted iguana. Not my favorite meat ever. It was so chewy you could barely get it down. Alex mentioned that it was a bit like chewing iguana bubble gum.

A delicious meal of ferns, pumpkin, and pork was followed by a night of revelry. Some of the young guys from the longhouse came down with their guitars and we all sat around drinking rice wine and singing- well, if you could call it that. Our rousing version of Hotal California went something like this, "mana a hmmm in the ditan, saw a shmarrarra loo, mmmm mmm Hotel California mmm errrr mrrmaaamooo". The Iban guys speak very little English, and don't understand any of the lyrics, so basically sing in their best imitation of English which is generally very far off the mark.

The next morning we watched a cock fight (de-clawed and no killing) and then back to the boats and the van for the ride back. We stopped off at an orangutan center where we saw the huge animals swinging from the trees, before we made it back to Kuching late that afternoon.

A couple pictures of the longhouse and a boat: