Borneo Trek For Orangutans: Day 5.
This post is part of a series documenting my time in Borneo. See more posts here.
Today we would leave our beautiful campground in Betung Kerihun National Park for another day of travelling and little else. We'd be on our way back to Sadap, saying our last goodbyes to the men who had spent time away from the village to help us with the boats and in the forest; then we'd be back on a bus to Lanjak for lunch at the WWF offices before another very long boat ride to the village of Meliau, where we'd be staying with host families in a longhouse.
Day 5: From Tekelan to Sadap, Sadap to Lanjak, Lanjak to Meliau
Oh, how I wished for just one more day in our quiet sanctuary by the river. I knew I'd miss this place the most, even though we hadn't yet been anywhere else: it was so serene and cosy, and sleeping in our little tents out there meant that I, for the most part, felt like part of the jungle—like this place could really be my home and I could get used to it.
The 2.5 hour boat ride back to Sadap felt like the fastest boat ride we'd had yet. We would say goodbye to the villagers here, getting one more chance to buy from the women as we waited for our bus. Here we would also give our final thanks to our boat crew, openly expressing our gratitude and presenting them with a bonus as thanks from all of us: 2.3 million Rupiah to be split between all of them. We did this in front of everyone else in the village, so that everyone could see how protecting the forest will make a positive difference to their lives.
Soon we were in the bus, on the road again, going to Lanjak before an afternoon on boats once more. We stopped by a monument halfway through, before finally arriving at the WWF offices for lunch. From there we had a choice: to either ride a bike (which of course means no helmets) to where the speedboats were, or hike it there (which would take an hour). Some of us chose to walk, myself included—we'd heard too many stories about tourists getting injured or worse on motorbike rides in Indonesia.
By the time we got to the end of the wider road of the village, a group of riders surrounded us—Jimmy said that we would take too long if we continued walking, and we'd be behind schedule for the boats. So on the bikes we went, in the end. "There's something I didn't know I'd tick off my list here: going on a motorbike ride for the first time ever", I thought to myself. Needless to say I held onto my driver tightly; the dirt road was caked in dry mud, with plenty of bumps threatening to toss us over. Thankfully it meant we couldn't go very fast.
We got into our speedboats, little metal things significantly wider than our jungle longboats but nowhere near as long. I thought ahead and had brought my towel in my day pack, which was still damp from the day before—I was beginning to use our boat rides as my natural clothes dryer, knowing full well it would dry so quickly in the heat and in the wind. My towel proved to be a wise decision anyway: I needed all the cover I could get from the burning sun, and this boat ride would take 3 hours.
We passed many villages on the way to Meliau, all the same: small communities with a longhouse and a mosque all resting on wooden stilts by the water and not much else. Little ramps and ladders would lead down from the main boardwalks onto the river, where there would be little wooden platforms and boxes for fishing and bathing. We would always go very slowly through the villages, making sure not to disturb any of the fishing nets or crab pots, as this was the main source of income around here.
Every time we passed a village the kids would run out of their houses and follow us across the boardwalk, screaming and waving and blowing kisses and laughing. We waved back every time, happy at how excited they were to see us.
After we arrived we gathered in the middle of the longhouse. We were all pretty tired from our long journey in the boats, so we welcomed the coffee, tea and sweet bread that were put out for us. Despite our diligent applications of sunscreen and my best attempts to cover myself with my towel, most of us were definitely sunburnt.
We relaxed and chatted for a while before Hermas explained who would be going in which room. I had already seen my name, along with Justine & Jessie's, on a piece of paper outside one of the doors. We were staying with a host family that had plenty of fish tanks.
Power didn't come on in these villages until the evenings, electricity only running off two generators at the back of the village. We would be sleeping on futons on the wooden floors, which to us felt like a significant upgrade from the concrete slabs the two nights before.
After putting our stuff down, Justine, Wendy and I went for a walk around the village. It wasn't a big walk, travelling only to the edges of the boardwalks where it would suddenly end, and then going down a ladder to where a small, young plantation was. We noticed that there was a church here, whereas there were mosques in all the other villages preceding Meliau. Wendy pointed out that the water must definitely get very high during the wet season, otherwise there wouldn't be a good reason to build the village at this level.
We went back to our rooms to dump our stuff and sat by the edge of the river where the others were swimming. The sun was setting, making everything look soft and pink. I immediately wanted to run back up to the longhouse to get my camera, but Justine stopped me. "Just relax", she said. So I did. I would never live in this moment and in this place ever again—why waste this precious time trying to do it justice through the lens when I could just enjoy living in it, remembering it in my mind's eye?
We were treated to a full moon during dinner that night. I sat outside with some of the others and enjoyed the fresh evening air. Inside the longhouse, some of the girls were painting their toenails "orangutan orange", and begged Jimmy to have his nails painted too—after a little bit of pushing we convinced him. To our surprise and delight one of the local village men sat down with us after seeing the fun we had with Jimmy, and Amy painted his toenails too.
The rest of our evening was spent watching a few videos of orangutans and the work Albertus and Jimmy have been involved in with WWF and the local Indonesian government over the years. Whilst WWF do not have any sanctuaries or rehabilitation centres, they are integral to the rescue and recovery of orangutans who have been kept as pets or found in the wild—many are still very young and are sometimes in need of critical medical help. One baby orangutan had been found after its mother was shot and killed, the same bullet hitting her baby. Jimmy said that it once took him 8 years to photograph a single orangutan, trying in many different jungles only to finally get a spontaneous photo of one at the back of this very longhouse.
In this last post, we travel from Putussibau to Pontianak, Pontianak to Jakarta, and Jakarta to Sydney before I finally fly back home to Brisbane in the early hours of Monday morning.