Lubok Antu's Rumah Salang,Penjai Ruai

Jamal – Penjai Ruai, Lubok Antu


My last visit to my home village was exciting and memorable. My uncle, long house headman, Tuai Rumah Salang welcomed me warmly like I was the long lost son who had not been home for a decade.

At 63, my uncle is a handsome, muscular man who could still farm his rice on his own and gather about 15 bags of milled rice each year. His helper is his ever faithful wife of more than 40 years. Both of them own quite a substantial property of rice land, one in the lowland and one on the hill slope. Sometimes they obtain daily help from a few Indonesians who cross the border just above their longhouse.

From the junction of the road to the longhouse, I could see the beautiful mountains which form the Indonesian-Sarawak border in the east and the Lubok Antu Dam in the south. Both features contribute enormously to the exciting life of my uncle’s village.

On the first day of my arrival at the village, my uncle took me hunting, hoping that my presence would bring them good luck. Uncle Salang has always been a sharp shooter although his gun is almost as old as he is. That day we took the pick-up and went up the mountains. Two hours later, Uncle Salang found a “good place” to hunt and we left the vehicle by the side of a trek. We started to walk in single file. Soon my uncle’s ears were all alert and suddenly a shot ran out. He had downed a wild boar. Now that was just minutes after our arrival! That was certainly good luck.

We went home immediately, carrying our trophy. To the delight of family and friends, our hunt brought enough food for everyone. Soon people gathered around and the animal was cut open. My fortune was read by the village witch doctor via the liver of the wild boar. Obviously it was a good day for me.

Soon the fire was going well, bamboos were cut for cooking of the meat and vegetables.
Fish like tilapia, kali and sultan were easily available in the river behind the longhouse and a basketful of fish for dinner was no trouble at all. Giggling ladies came in to contribute their tapioca, cucumber leaves, bitter gourds, pumpkins, local golden brinjals and the sourish, local cucumbers.

That evening we had a wonderful feast, with every one contributing to the cooking. My favourite dish was the Ikan Keli cooked in Durian Paste: a dish was made in heaven.

My stay was over all too soon. And I left with a grateful heart. My uncle and aunt are the closest relatives I have and leaving them was like a calf leaving its mother. They have always provided that warmth and care that I need in my nurturing years. They are the scaffold that I need when I can not find my feet in the hard grind of life.

Jamal Domeng/Dynasty Hotel/2007