As I stooped to exit the MAS Twin Otter I entered a strange new world; immediately the quiet, slow pac of life here was evident. The air was hot, despite our 1000 some-odd meter elevation, and the sun was out in full force. I walked to the cockpit as David emerged and together we walked through the Bario 'airport' to a small kitchen area run by a local. I met up with Daniel and we together ate a bowl of Laksa, the local breakfast specialty of vermicelli rice noodles in spicy soup, and drank a coffee, stirring the blob of sweetened condensed milk that had sunk to the bottom of the mug. I brought out the Borneo Post and the locals hanging out at the airstrip very eagerly swarmed them; news from outside doesn't reach Bario too easily. David's contact in Bario, a man named Reddish, waited patiently for Dan and I to finish our meal before taking us to his lodge in what would turn out to be the centre of town. Bario itself is a sprawling settlement of traditional longhouses and a growing number of independant homes; a remenant of an enclave of nearby villages protected by British forces during WW2 and a war between nearby Kalimantan in the 1960's. The activity in Bario seemed to be focused around a semicircular row of shops, and the nearby communication centre - home to one of the only internet connections in the interior of Malaysian Borneo, also home to the area's only satellite telephone. We proceeded to Reddish's Bario Backpacker Lodge, which turned out to be a new and pretty lush place to stay. Blowpipes, shields, woven baskets and perangs (machetes) decorated the walls; in the corners pitcher plants in ceramic pots and various orchids grew in the dim light.

Situated in a large flatland of rice patties and farmland, Bario has a small network of single lane roads which are overrun by 4x4's and motorbikes driven by locals too lazy to walk. Those that do walk carry hand-woven baskets filled with produce or rice on their backs.

As it turned out Dan and I were lucky enough to arrive on the day of a local longhouse wedding - not an event either of us was willing to pass up! We were given directions to a longhouse at thefar north end of town, not to far from "the gap", a local landmark which had already been pointed out numerous times by the locals. The Gap is an area on the distant hill where a clump of trees had been removed, leaving a gap in the treed skyline - this was apparently done to mark the coming of the new millenium.

Walking alone the muddy road we were greeted by the most friendly people you can imagine. Few spoke english, but still the universal smile spoke volumes. Picture, if you can, headhunters. They might look something like this, fierce relentless warriors who measured self worth by the number of heads one had collected. These men still wander around Borneo, but nowadays look more like this. The headhunting days ended in the mid-sixties in Sarawak (though who knows what goes on in neighbouring Kalimantan), and now these aged men are happy and friendly grandparents, though they still show signs of a very different time. In the Kelabit tribe, native to the Bario region, headhunting men would be decorated with earings after demonstrating their tenacity as a warrior. I was led to believe that after a few heads had been collected a Kelabit warrior would receive the characteristic and traditional ear pieces. through successive changes in earings leading to the stretching of their ear lobe, they would eventually wear ornate brass weights. Ultimately their ear lobes would dangle to their shoulders. The fiercest of warriors would have the upper area of their ear carved out, forming a 'V' shaped hole that they call the leopards hole. Might be able to see it a little bit in this photo.
These Kelabits, former headhunter's included, are certainly some of the friendliest people I've met so far. Truly amazing to meet and converse with people of such rich and interesting history.

We made our way about a kilometer to the longhouse, having been met by a local guide who showed us the way. Ridilio was to be our guide for our ambitious trekking adventure to start the following day - for today, though, he would show us around and tell us a bit about the local history. The three of us made our way to the longhouse, which was a hive of activity. In the back a very large group of men were busily butchering and boiling what would turn out to be 6 large pigs and one water buffalo. Using 'everything' virtually every scrap of meat or organ was cleaned and either thrown into one of two large bathtub-like basins under which roaring fire's burned in the harsh mid-day heat. A group of two men were at work extracting the patially digested guck from the stomach and other organs found downstream. Another man tended to the fetal pigs which had been skewered and were roasting nicely near the fire. All around men, old and young, either carved and meat or watched.
Inside the nearby longhouse another group was working away to pound some beef into a kind of ground up state with machetes; over by the window a tarp had been laid out and men were busily mincing fat into yummy bite sized pieces for the feast. I would imagine this scene was not too far from what might happen a hundred years ago - except that these men wore fancy watches, Manchester United jerseys, flip-flops and cargo shorts.
Feeling a little overwhelmed by the general feeling of massacre and gore (despite my own carnivorous tendencies) I was happy to leave this party and head to the dining hall; a vast and long space where hand woven reed mats were laid out and women dolloped portions of rice puree into banana leaves, which were then wrapped into discrete packets and piled for this evening's feast.

The structure of the longhouse is similar in most places I would ultimately visit: it is comprised of a very long raised wooden building, perhaps 100-150m long and say 6-8m wide. The main area of the longhouse is remarkably clear of any clutter (unless there is a wedding or other ceremony). The walls are bare and stained with the blackness from years of smoke. the ceilings are high and the metal corrugated roofing is visible; vaulted areas allow the smoke to clear. Usually a long house complex will have two buildings of equal length a few meters apart with connecting bridges. Each family (all members of a longhosue are related) has an area in both buildings; one serving as a cooking and activity area, the other as a sleeping area. Thus the length of the cooking longhouse is compartmentalized into discrete cooking areas; by wandering down the length of a longhouse you will visit each family.
In this particular longhouse the women were all busy preparing the rice for the dinner; this wedding would be a huge affair.
We were seated by Ridilio and some other friendly english speaking Kelabit and there enjoyed some rice and a few of the meat scraps that has already been boiled. I'm not sure what happened to the flesh, but we were served mostly boiled pork fat, which did not compliment the sweet tasting Bario rice very well. We politely ate our lunch and enjoyed conversing with the locals before being invited to help out the men in the back.
Our hands were already greasy fromt he fatty lunch, and we were urged to help out at the tarp area in cutting up the strips of pork insulation. It was here that the locals thought they could have some fun with us... We were served a large block of fat, which they were all eating as well, which would be dipped in salt and gobbled up. I normally enjoy a fatty steak, or a marbled roast, or even the thicker fat on a ham, but I've never eaten a block of fat, plain, boiled, seasoned with salt. Hesitantly Dan and I nibbled on our snack, hoping for some opportunity to discretely hide it or pocket it. No such luck. Luckily the sickly feeling went away fairly quickly, though the grease would seep from my pores for days to come. At the same sitting we were offered boiled liver, kidney and steer 'gun', a sinuous tendony organ that didn't taste too badly. The locals thought it was quite hilarious. Admittedly I was becoming a bit nausious. I wasn't surprised to learn that most westerners turning up in Bario were 'vegetarians', surely using this excuse to avoid eating the bizzare boiled meats that we had just feasted on. Should have thought of that beforehand...

Citing fatigue Dan and I went back to the lodge to wash up a bit and have a quick nap - the cure for too many tigers the night before combined with an early flight.

That night we made our way to the same longhouse, the destination of virtually everyone in Bario (well, not everyone - Bario has about 2000 people scattered through the valley, only a few hundred showed up for the wedding). We arrived as the familiar western wedding tune, "here comes the bride", was played on a Karaoke loudspeaker system, and through the windows we could see the wedding procession. We stealthily snuck in with a large numebr of late comers and discovered a vast number of people filling the longhouse. In the distance a bride and groom in western wedding garn stood before a priestly man who read Kelabit from a text over the microphone. I knew that most Kelabit were Christians, but I didn't expect to stumb in on a western-style wedding in the heart of Sarawak. The only difference was the venue, and the crowd - a loud and restless group chatting away while children ran around playing tag and other games. It seems that the most important thing at this wedding would be that people came for the ceremony, not necessarily that they paid attention. The ceremony itself lasted about an hour, which is a fairly long time to sit and listen to a foreign language ceremony of any kind. Finally they were married and they began their lengthy procession down the recieving line spanning the length of the longhouse - up one side, down the other.

Dan and I chatted away until it was time to feast on the boiled meats again. I happily assisted in handing out the baggies of meat, while other people handed out the rice packets. Some others handed out dollops of pork/rice porridge.
Again we ate the chubby pig, this time, however, it was cold. I enjoyed being part of this occasion very much, but did not enjoy the food at all...

We headed back to the lodge in the darkness under a canopy of crystal clear stars, declining rides from each of the passing trucks. Had to walk off our full bellies of rice and meat.

The next day we would embark on our trek of the Bario loop...