In our limited but hopefully increasing understanding, the many displaced and marginalized indigenous peoples of the world have similarly gut-wrenching stories.
Our travels through our home country, the United States, have exposed us to many so-called “reservations”, where what’s left of the native people are relegated to, after decades of war, coerced and reneged “peace" treaties,
forced relocation (oftentimes west to less fertile or even completely arid lands), and the like. Rarely have we felt good visiting these reservations, the stigma of what these places represented too apparent in our minds. We were always outsiders, never experiencing the pleasure of being invited.
And so, when we were invited to visit some remote Malaysian tribal villages by somebody who works closely and sponsors one of the members of the clan, we eagerly jumped on the opportunity.
We first met Krish hanging out at one of the many South Indian restaurants in Tanah Rata. Our new Tahitian friend Kiki, whom we met on Perhentian Kecil about a week earlier, introduced us (Hi Kiki!). Kiki was staying at Krish's
D'Native Guesthouse, so called due to Krish's deep interest in preserving and educating visitors on Malayasia's past and traditions.
Krish, whose grandparents emigrated from South India to Malaysia, is of Indian decent, and like many such Malaysian-Indians, maintains the Hindu faith of his forefathers, and thus is a member of a significant Hindu minority population in a country where Islam reigns supreme. He grew up roaming the jungles around the Cameron Highlands; jungles where native elephants and tigers used to be commonplace. He claimed, only half jokingly, that tigers would knock on his window for breakfast! Sadly such large animals have since been displaced, their habitat clear cut, the mountains the trees once stood on terraced in order to make room for an ever increasing amount of fruit and tea plantations.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6uaQuvBL4UdBImPpC_6s5ATdCoB6yj3OVmNHbAXfYheT9oxmvjZOq320DduhcYdB32Rmch4R2tWAa0ycQcY4VVECgJ88BzxQpJylNp5I12RwkmnYCAZtE5yM161KxQGlvUKPvqBlxmc/s640/2013-10-04T02_59_51.jpg) |
BOH Tea plantation |
While driving to the first village we were to visit, Pos Brooke, Krish taught us about the the history of the native people of Malaysia, which are collectively known as the Orang Asli ("original people" in Malaysian), numbering about 150,000 as a whole in a country of 29 million, or about .5% of the population.
There are 18 officially recognized
Orang Asli tribes, which are broken up into three major groups:
- Semang (or Negrito) - regarded as the earliest inhabitants of the Malay peninsula, and are are likely the descendants of the indigenous Australoid populations of the Sunda landmass and New Guinea, predating the Austronesian peoples who later entered Southeast Asia. There are ~3500 Semang in Malaysia today.
- Senoi people - Came to the Malay Peninsula after the Semang, and are comprised of six different groups or clans. We were to visit the Temiar clan, which is the 2nd largest. The Senoi as a whole number about 60,000, and the Temiar about 18,000.
- Proto-Malay - The third group to settle the Malay Peninsula, migrating from mainland Asia between 2500 and 1500 BC. As a whole, they number
We parked at Pos Brooke, but since there was nobody about and the head of the village wasn't there, we walked up along a dirt road up a river valley until coming upon Pos Liar, a collection of wood and bamboo huts on stilts set along the river.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7utX2df6Up-WKDzrG8n9l-XbllQlWAtz0j_htwoS0f0ekCC44x7Nz0kuDl89LLMwyDFTT3bH_q9r8Hl961CpSMaNbW9SVprJ_OylSNxZh-Q_oQLODJqFdz7Kxz-xEyb540SWO8JdoSq0/s400/2013-10-03T21_42_47.jpg) |
The river valley |
In Pos Liar, we met this family ...
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCACB1f_TmGMFVbve9hX33p0bxti950BEcHWUehT73FzWaHEc7AWTej2rvb7YEFTCMZExg3XNiwBC5vB1olk3CJ47m279UvQCHLhAOPwd-dgmxj_adw2TLvcB8_I2eoQtCb3UZxg0IcEA/s400/2013-10-03T22_09_59.jpg) |
Family in Pos Liar |
... who were quick to pose for a group shot on their staircase.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUyxdePnqfmi93ZepJ2_LGOM2uHCt60rZ-iees9jB1LAYyjrDoQNDWXrTRXy25qrljPtf8VMS5DgviB6NSpdLLbWZQUUB66HhBkRTXFE8y5csTb5fHmjLpBZtwrrHX71eFkFinr_hqXwY/s400/2013-10-03T22_08_19.jpg) |
Peace or Victory? |
After checking the village out for a bit but still feeling a bit out of place, we set out further along the road and up the valley to the next village of Pos Linggi.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGkcfaXcNUP4EHCQfzggLzMPBR9zeZrpuOYS_JxdyGTmCaX7ytbFGDlwZ_tC8Vi6_iofoLCf72IrC04pPo6ib__AOuAKygvnUTPsUHbNGc6auOLJK7JUl5qVOx6kkJaUWLHLoHNnFjME/s400/2013-10-03T22_13_55.jpg) |
View of Pos Liar from the road, with a farm on the hillside. |
The dirt road we were following ended at this bamboo bridge, which we crossed.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJp4jXQEfSqRPfgyxA8fKlon28lnyLu1puRjGqEr8NDgbk0TEfO9mvacaPoT_YhS8MVNf4IH0SSbYGKN4gAcak619nBxyK733VAhirXQUb_D5OErtE9sK6J7jY45UZdnfEcqNeO0jv1o/s400/2013-10-03T22_25_31.jpg) |
Bamboo and chicken wire |
After crossing the bridge, we entered Pos Linggi.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6R-CuFwYVfrQmp8bDTe-58a1ALL_pMftKf0M1oy2nzR3Qu6xg969PO48f4pjHtHvUjc4TdFVhl4doCl8fnuuJs7nodivO11TB4byjal3wJuEJgRprfqzRNB57Hm9EhRdR_TsNHPI8rk/s400/2013-10-03T22_28_00.jpg) |
Pos Linggi |
We met this woman, known simpily as Ma. She is the toldest person in the village. She lives in a 10x10 foot hut with a dirt floor, with very few material possessions. She has many children, but for some reason, they don't support her well enough. For this reason, Krish sponsors her, bringing her food and provisions every time he visits.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV2RgSeTPyE5ej1uuC5IH3lbibKwNpFt6ycDIazekM0WokmMa7IFXw2uz8f0yppDoeV3EDn7tLS9joWG43IHhYZ8vL1egBC6A0ILBb1G0I3VxqajHNyUNfc0Ge1TIfff1llNePzmDVE3c/s400/2013-10-03T22_31_08.jpg) |
Ma's ancient face |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKDlP75us662QlnUo4hwgA5iV7aCntR3tbZ6eI7J4NXZ6V8Vzde6P9X0kgvtQT_iSDN4J8WEoX-3sVx6SGcm2hKgl6cEBdQD20VN3G8iTaFLVm9eachxrpp-Yed7YOFq2y59LVZpuVGuc/s400/2013-10-03T22_32_13.jpg) |
Ma standing in front of her hut |
We also met this man, the head of the village and our host. Throughout our visit, he was smoking loose tobacco out of a pouch in a purse wrapped in a fresh green leaf. He was always seen with a half smile and a twinkle in his eye.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXhsOsVbiFPDxb8cONKeFnIoEexao1y4CxMEbPLDHr7KsxvY_HBPzmKVF9yGG50MQdxiDVW8T7zVAJ9_DRukmMWtOeZ3PrOQa_yKenee5CDB2Poe7Q12xXQqtnAEO4FgHtQCAIaE1E0wY/s400/2013-10-03T22_33_35.jpg) |
The head of the village |
Maybe sensing that we still weren't too comfortable in this setting, Krish took us down to the coolness of the river, from which all the inhabitants of Pos Linggi get their water. In order to swim here, we would need the chief's permission. Wading was OK, however.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYV2Q7FMpsaQvRPXdYKhJkY3D2dqErPzT-a4Kr4GQX0z9ZSLmCM3WRyNX63OZuoSbahOZCiaOtrgQb9KTXo7YB7v3Qo_OW7IecpXI0tkVm9MQND5VUxOAeoEExhXdLU6lcbW_QvRD_rvk/s400/2013-10-03T22_49_47.jpg) |
Lesson by the river |
Some of the children followed us and watched from a distance.
After cooling off a bit, we came back up and began distributing the cookies and biscuits we brought for the children. Even though they were happy to get them, they were still a bit standoffish ...
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9LZb3tTLJ9dnBYWR5nZG4X-H_ykv-gQxpORTQBU-SobaTT2YanjglmGKEvLsXz_rYgbQwtLLEMpT0T_YqcE7D3u26R8a6XpzFPKLX-R7gNkHh5aMutAbWnQ9owIsEWxsQLLKRwCoHFZU/s400/2013-10-03T23_25_30.jpg) |
Children with cookies, but still no smiles
|
Some of the homes in the village were modern brick and cement constructions, with glass windows (as pictured above). These were built by the Malaysian government, but there were few of them, and not all of them seemed to be occupied. We wonder what is the criteria for receiving such a house.
We also learned that many of the Senoi marry very young. One woman we met was 28 years old, and is the mother of 9 children.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTdRg9PgLo7sZZgYzK4MtxMX8W5arB9WnqMvQnHmcN0sEVbkBMqN-thWjKtKKAHrtyCHjLuYXBwHhuOs-AVXNTEFURF1brMKbq_BkXAI7BaxK-bkD52Cb0UE5Z0SYi0EUTPmp7ZYm9is/s400/2013-10-03T23_24_36.jpg) |
A mother with her child |
The chief beckoned us to follow him, where he demonstrated how he crafts blowgun mouthpieces. To this day, the Senoi hunt with traditional blowguns for birds, lizards, monkeys, and other bushmeat. They use poisonous darts.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqaETV8J203U4JJ7wAZeuBz_d8JhuFNnrGS-wm2QZRzXxU4DCgknwvMrgAYcmg-wtfG1H-hC4M1jhaMay1DW7wWKqljqyBOjh-i1IAEmhPjQ8UVldMPkns3Rg0aDjlAHuRVoVoNr8wO90/s400/2013-10-03T23_20_09.jpg) |
Village elder carving a blowgun mouthpiece. |
After Agnes tried shooting one, hitting her target dead on at 15 paces, we realized that she's a natural, so we purchased one as a memento from the chief (poison not included).
Krish also purchased some blowguns to decorate his guesthouse, along with some tapioca root, and a root pictured here which is used for many medicinal purposes, including clearing skin infections and rashes, as well as male impotency (Krish, let us know if it works!).
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYYrodTnXiwzLGuhD2tDT9DpAGkSzBvvqoWsiRuX7azcUTvrA2kiCoa6MOHiBJmMf6S_f3GdAKIvURbSR99iDTHz1MCSFzsJ9e64Tj90ufT5PJhRCqmnvMX19IDbDYOhEPvP6OS_DdxoM/s400/2013-10-03T23_23_08.jpg) |
Krish wich his natural medicine, pictured with Diana, Krish's guest. |
The Malaysian National Badminton team is one of the best in the world, and badminton is a bit of a national sport, so much so that even this remote village had a paved badminton court. Unfortunately, there was no net to be seen, and the court has been re appropriated as a soccer field for the kids of the village.
We decided to challenge the kids to a friendly match. The change in their demeanor was like night and day. Where originally they were friendly but a bit standoffish, they now laughed and yelled with us, were eager to practice whatever English they knew, and were giving us high fives and posed for pictures.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQg6eQDLo8jZ8b6mv5WmKfuUTm52evFwUEseECWpLwDyr-7CpRNsV52_qWZ4JqEZMl3B_d3BXK24vSlD1l_ZtjzLxX8ty6HBV8wwExUCUKLmu3ek16tGGvXyMkIPaK6kFeDiF_Eq5nles/s400/2013-10-03T23_26_34.jpg) |
Lining up and making teams |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ6jLO6RqvMR0mrQ8emjgQM6N88DkFoUvK9WA4bB7UhuqEHNkHkq-tkHbaEQD93RqQuZmDj2wR9OzzpSbStbFC4QAuVZl6UEXkZtCQ0708_OAKrI9G6Fxqo5lf6TxLCIfq0ZQqR09_zV0/s400/2013-10-03T23_44_14.jpg) |
Agnes kicking a penalty kick |
When it was time to go, some of our new friends decided to follow us back.
During the hike back, it occurred to us that it was a Thursday, a school day, and none of the children we met were in school. Krish explained that there is a modern school, complete with computers and internet access, but it stands nearly empty, since it was built too far away for the children in the remote villages we visited to attend. The government does not provide any transport services.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBOVtKH5gHXNrbRagKO7L-kIY4tPSYfe9szvCuDLy0dox5NN7d-Ruj2hECQYhDSAYxPYT4F0YbyKojiMzm-COx36DlyVAAc0rNJI3whuJDT9D2y6CTHCYuJWewYIa841Kk1NypiMZ1Qc/s400/2013-10-04T00_26_39.jpg) |
The local school in the distance, several kilometers from the villages we visited. |
All in all, it was an great and enlightening experience. We thank Krish of the
D'Native Guesthouse, and urge anyone finding themselves in the Cameron Highlands to look him up and have this experience. It seemed to us that the domesticated ape, like his brother the elephant and the tiger, is another species being pushed around by agricultural interests "greater" than him. Who knows how long these villages and the people in them will be in this place.
--
For more photos in and around the Cameron Highlands, be sure to check out our
photo album of the Malaysian Interior!
No comments:
Post a Comment