Jungle Trekking

A trip to the woods is incomplete without hiking and jungle trekking. Hence, we signed up for a stroll in the woods. Once again, taking the boat, we arrived at the foot of one of the hills, and began trekking through the wilderness to Tanjung Tembat Waterfalls. 

At first, it seemed easy enough. The trees were far apart, earth was dry, and the terrain was flat. As we ventured deeper and deeper into the jungle, the trees grew closer to one another, the earth became wetter. It became harder to identify the paths as numerous wet, brown, blackened leaves and branches stacked onto the less trodden path. Trees were rooted firmly onto the ground, forming natural staircases, easing our journey up the mountains. 

Since it had just rained the previous night, the ground was extremely muddy. It was a nice and cool walk. We didn't even feel the sun shining brightly over our heads as the sunlight was filtered through the leaves. We felt safe and exhilarated at the same time.

Along the way, we spotted circular tracks about 1 feet in diameter, with deep imprints onto the ground. Many times, due to our inexperience, we mistook it for human footprints, stepped onto it and tended to follow those tracks. Unbeknown to us, those were elephant footprints. Thankfully our guide never left us to try out new paths on our own. Whenever we took the wrong path, they'd always call us back. So, we always found our way. 

Every few metres, we would stumble upon huge green, spherical mixture of grass and mud particles, which we suspected were elephant poop. Areas which elephants had passed by, tended to have fallen branches, tree trunks and extremely muddy paths. As a result, we often had to look really closely before grabbing branches and tree trunks alike. Once, the guide in front of me was just about warn me about the sharp, thorned shoots on my left when I grabbed it hastily and shouted "Ouch!" . Too late! I had already touched it. 

Yes. In the woods, we should really look before we touch and step. While crossing the river, I touched a branch for support, only to be stinged by something sharp, and I shouted, "ouch! ouch! ouchs" three times, as tears accumulated in my eyes and flowed steadily down my cheeks. It was really painful. I looked up and saw only a bunch of sharp, green, haify stuff sticking out from a branch. The guide, who stood on a elevated boulder, said, "Aww... don't be a big baby. It's just a young caterpillar. Is it painful? Just put your stung finger on your hair, and rub it on your head." 

Naively, I trusted him and assumed that by doing so, my left ringer wouldn't hurt anymore. Yet, the pain did not reduce even one single bit. In fact, it seemed to spread through my upper arm. At one point, I even felt as if my arms would go numb! I always wondered what would happen if one were stung by caterpillar. Now I knew. It isn't that bad. As much as I complained of the pain like a little baby, the pain was gone by the end of the day.

Since it had just rained, black, juicy leeches were lurking at almost every corner. Whenever we stopped in a new territory, there was a high tendency for our skin to be poked and blood sucked out by the leeches. Our Canadian friend, who had never seen a leech, was curious about how it looked. The first time a leech hung stubbornly onto her arm, she picked the creature up with two of her slender fingers, snapped a picture of it, before throwing it onto the ground. Upon further advice by our group members, she stepped onto the leech, squashing it flat.  

Suddenly a speculation by one of my colleagues crossed my mind, "If we pour lots of salt onto a leech, will it explode into a million pieces?" Hmmm... I wonder. Did not have the opportunity to try it out through. The next time I feel adventurous and want to jungle trek again, I'll be sure to carry a bottle of salt just to see what happens. Hah!

As we were walking out of the woods, our guide decided to reveal that sometimes, while bringing tourists like us into the jungle, they would occasionally encounter porcupines, tigers, panthers, leopards and elephants. In moments like these, it is always tense. Should they run? Or should they stay put? They are after all, trespassing into the habitat of these animals. "We are the intruders, not them." they explained. Thus, in such situations, they try to be as quiet as possible and not attract any attention to themselves. As such, both parties have been well protected, co-existing in peace and harmony. Amen.

Big Ants, Small Ants, Grouped Ants Moving Together

Waterfalls

The main attraction of Tasik Kenyir is its abundant waterfalls. Upstream of every nook and corner of a river, there is bound to be a waterfall, gushing down with grandeur, zest and boundless energy.

Here, its water is clearest, with lots of baby fishes swimming around your ankles. As soon you dip your feet into the cool river, these fishes will quickly swim to your feet and nibble eagerly on your smooth, raw skin. It's ticklish. The feeling of their sharp teeth and smooth lips will definitely send tingling sensations throughout every nerve of yours.

Mini-Waterfall

 

 

Downstream of Waterfall

Clearwater

Revelations

Language is a funny thing. Although its commonly used as a tool of communication to express oneself, it differs and varies across states, even though it's the same language. People from different states and countries have their own unique ways of communicating in the same language.

During our recent trip to Tasik Kenyir, the Canadians  we were travelling with, found our spoken English tremendously amusing. Malaysians, based on their observation, tend to speak in words instead of sentences. For example, if a person asks, "Can we go out?" 

A Malaysian will answer "Can, can." . Twice. Repetitious. Short. Simple. Straight to the point.

A Canadian will answer, "Yes, if you think it's absolutely necessary."

They also find it funny the way we pronounce words that start with 'th'. Malaysians tend to eliminate the 'h' in words that begin with 'th'. Pronouncing 'three'  as 'tree, 'the' as 'd' , 'that' as 'd', 'think' as 'tink'. Hence when we say 'three bags', the way we say it, it'd sound like 'tree bags' instead of '3 bags', tickling our Canadian friends' funny bones. 

After spending two weeks in Malaysia, our Canadian friends have become partially Malaysianized - adding 'lah' to the end of almost every sentence, e.g. 'can-lah', 'no-lah', 'yes-lah', and '"aiyah! How come you don't know-lah?"  It's pretty entertaining hearing non-native Malaysians saying 'lah'!

In comparison, our Canadian friends spoke 10 times more than us. They can just speak so much, which is pretty amazing to me. These days, it is hard to get even 10 words out of my mouth. These Canadians, on the other hand, spoke as they thought. They spoke with eloquence, spontaneous with a lot of details and analysis. On one hand, I wished I could speak as much. On the other hand, in my current state, I find that speaking is a great effort, especially on non working related topics.

Life is a series of surprises. If everything went as planned, it wouldn't be life, would it?  This trip to Tasik Kenyir has taught me that I should really lighten up and not take everything soooooo.... seriously. Increase my frequency of meeting with friends, entertainment sessions. It starts now. By saying 'yes!' enthusiastically to all invitations to meet up.   *Wink*!

Save the Environment!

When we were young, we were always advised to save the environment. Until today, we are bombarded with messages such as 'Save our rivers', 'Save our earth', or 'Reduce, Reuse, Recycle'. I've never understood the importance of conserving greens until the day I arrived at Tasik Kenyir. 

The moment one arrives at Tasik Kenyir, the very first thing one will notice are the bald trees, all chopped right down to its very core. It is a pitiful sight indeed. It looks as if these trees - the guardians of the forest - were beheaded for just being caretakers of the jungle. 

When we inquired further, we found out that when the prime minister came to Tasik Kenyir for a site visit, he found overgrown trees with leaves on its billion, zillion branches absorbing all the natural light, casting a dark shadow over the rivers.  Thinking of it as unsightly and deeming it unsuitable as a tourist spot, the prime minister ordered all the trees to be cut down. Naturally, the respective ministry acted on the orders and embarked on a mission of chopping of trees that were submerged in the river.

Today, what's left of these trees are its roots and thick trunk. In fact, these trees are of superb quality. Proof of its strength and long durability were evident. The trees, despite being submerged in water since its birth, are still standing upright, tall, strong and sturdy, bringing to mind a famous proverb 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me'. 

The trees in Tasik Kenyir fetches high commercial value because it is  long-lasting and able to withstand termite attack. It is often processed into furniture and construction material for houses. Hence, logging activities are often carried out upstream of certain parts of the river, speeding up the deforestation process. In certain parts of the river downstream, the water is murky and brown, with lots of foam floating on the surface. It looks extremely polluted and, it just gets hotter by the minute. All for the sake of monetary gains while exploiting some of our natural resources.

I now realize that global warming is very real and it's escalating by the second. Despite our attempts at approaching paperless society, discarding the utilization of plastic bags, and recycling efforts, trees are still being cut everyday. Perhaps, these seemingly futile efforts might make a difference in saving our porcupines, tigers, eagles and hornbills, just like the famous starfish story by Loren Eiseley, an American anthropologist.

Witnessing the drastic sight of deforestation right in front of my eyes, and having experience dfirst-hand the results of it all, I resolve never again to print on papers unnecessarily and support wholesome efforts in saving Mother Earth. After all, there is only one earth. The survival of our human race depends on its continuity.

Decapitated Tree

Trees by the River

Hills, trees and rivers

Foamy River due to Logging Industry Upstream

Murky Waters

Our Precious Resources

Mixed Responses

Being in the woods, isolated and cut off from all channels of communication is awfully relaxing. I just can't help repeating myself. It is where I am able to find my true self, identify my deepest needs, able to decide on my future, purely based on my own desires. 

It is here, in the thick, lush, greenery that I feel close to God. It's a funny revelation, considering how Church is all about getting closer to God. I don't feel closer to Him on any given day these days.  It's probably because in the city, everywhere I go, I see things that are man-made. Even the rain clouds are are planted in the sky by airplanes.

In the jungle, everything amazes me. It is in here, true beauty exists. Whenever I stand by the river, I see huge, gigantic mountains. In the evenings, the colours of the sky mix so evenly and gradually. In the night, crickets, monkeys and owls chirp and chat throughout the night. It is then that I am reminded that God truly exists. For what else could bestow such beauty and serenity upon our land, except for the powers above?

Hence, when Pete Seeger, a 91-year old social activitist, born on the 3rd of May 1919, and still very much alive to this day, said, "Every time I’m in the woods, I feel like I’m in church.", I am in absolute agreement. 

 

Eager to share my thoughts and joy of being in the wilderness, I shared pictures of Kenyir Lake with several friends and family members. When friends of my generation saw the still reflection of the hills on the calm water surface, they were awed. Impressed that such a place still existed. 

My family members, on the other hand, were more taken aback that I found such scenes impressive. They were dumbfounded that I was bowled over by these scenic display of tranquility. "When I was a child, Sitiawan and Kampung Koh (the hometown of my family and my ancestors after they migrated from China) used to look like this." my mother began reminiscing. "I still remember us, as little boys and girls, soaking ourselves in the streams on a scorching, hot day, catching fishes and playing the whole day long by the river during school holidays."

I listened in amazement. "Wow... " speechless as I gathered my thoughts. "We used to have these kind of scenery in Sitiawan? The rivers? The grasslands? The grazing cows?" 

I can't believe it. Ever since I was born in this town, all I ever saw were rubber estates, oil palm estates, schools, single story and double story buildings. No rivers, no lakes, no vast greenery. Somehow, it seemed ... impossible. It is as if, the town existed just the way it was, the moment I set my eyes on it, along with the years I grew up in it. Even if it did change, it was not drastic. As far as I remember, the most major change was the day I noticed bulldozers destroying corridors of shops by the roadside, in their attempts to widen the road. It was a sad day for me. As a child, I liked things just the way they are. Change was, to me, always an intruder. 

And so, when my mom did not even bat her eyelids as I showed her how green the grass were, how tranquil the rivers were, how peaceful, trying to convey how I felt as if I had been transported up to paradise, I just couldn't comprehend it. How is it that my mom, who has lived for half a decade, not be impressed by this? or even longed that she could have this right at her backyard?

In fact, the way she momentarily glanced up from time to time, as I tried to attract her attention, seemed as if it was such a common, daily sight. I suppose, changes in my hometown are pretty gradual, and in her mind, she still sees it the same way as it was fifty years ago. Or perhaps, she has had her fair share of living by the river, and now has embraced the convenience that only town living can offer. A lifestyle that a city-bred like me takes for granted, eager to escape from the solid grasp it has on me, creeping into solitude, searching for my true calling. 

My brother's response was, "Jie (Sis)! U know! We used to catch fishes in the drains all the time! Nothing new at all!" 

Hmm... That is when I found out that I have missed out pretty much on life. My decision to dedicate my life to reading a whole library of books gained me some wisdom and knowledge, but lost in terms of experiences gained.

I am still in my twenties, 27 to be precise. I need to take risks, be courageous and chase after my dreams. Be like a wild horse, galloping freely, roaming adventurously. One is only young once. If I don't start now, when will I start? Try everything, Jean!

For without experience, from whence cometh knowledge? 

I finally figured out why I love being in the jungle so much. It is because when I'm surrounded by thick, protective trees, I feel as if time comes to an absolute standstill. 

For those few precious moments that I hold closely within my heart, I am living only in the present, no regrets about the past, no worries about the future; I am living only for myself, no worries about relationships, no worries about family bonds and ties.

Momentarily, I feel whole and contented. I blend well with my surroundings, gradually losing myself in the harmonious backdrop, drinking in the sound of the silent gushing streams, calming down the rush of adrenaline, flaring tempers within the cool, rhythmic air of the forest. 

I, am now breathing in perfect harmony with Mother Nature.

Ahhh... yes. Being in the woods has that magical effect on me. It takes away all the pain, all the worries and all the sadness, and renews our hearts with joyful beats and magical strength. In a mysterious way, going to the forest is just therapeutic.