Part 14 (1/2)

'But they're still around,' said Julie. She hadn't expected to see the great apes on this trip, but now the opportunity seemed to present itself and she couldn't wait.

'Thanks to the breeding programs and sanctuaries and rehabilitation sites that were started in the 1980s. Now orangutans are a big tourist attraction in both Borneo and Sumatra.'

'There's a good sanctuary not far from here. I've filmed there,' said Barry. 'You could go there,' he said to Julie.

Julie shook her head. 'It's incredible. I just love Kuching. I suppose my Great Aunt Bette must have come here?'

'She must have. It's the gateway to Iban country up in the hill country,' said Matthew.

'How do we get to the Iban?'

'I'm arranging a boat and a friend to take us upriver,' said David. 'But we'll enjoy a day or so here first. Kuching is very pleasant.'

That evening the four of them headed out to where it was lively. Families were walking, children played on the public lawns and people were eating in the cafes and restaurants that faced the water. They ate in a small, smart bistro decorated with pictures from the era of the White Rajahs. The rattan furniture was covered in batik, fans and a Dayak headdress were hung on the walls and the menu was a mixture of local cuisine and colonial excess. While it was humid, the weather was bearable and later, they enjoyed strolling along the esplanade. The lights which were strung along its length twinkled in the Sarawak River. Food stalls were busy and couples and a few tourists sat on the benches, enjoying the views of the modern legislative a.s.sembly building, the rajah's palace, and the old fort.

'Rajah Sir Charles Brooke called most of the forts in Sarawak after female members of his family. That one over there is Fort Margherita. Then there's Fort Alice and Fort Sylvia and I can't remember the others,' David said with a smile.

The little shops and markets of the old town opposite the esplanade were busy and while the three men ordered a beer at a cafe in the park, Julie meandered through some of the shops, instantly finding examples of the tourist culture. Most shops had, laid out in front of them, tables covered with T-s.h.i.+rts with pictures of headhunters and orangutans. There were also toy orangutans of every description, fake blowpipes, sarongs, imitation lengths of the fine woven fabric made by Iban women, paintings of longhouses, and picture books on the jungles of Sarawak and the ”Wild Men of Borneo”. It was sensory overload.

The following day Julie decided to go to the museum while the others were finalising the details of their trip upriver. The gracious colonial museum was set back amongst lawns on a slight rise, and was another building constructed by Sir Charles, the second of the White Rajahs. The moment Julie walked inside and saw the cluttered rooms and the sweeping wooden staircase to the upper floor, lit by gla.s.s domes, she wished she had days to explore.

A friendly staff member explained to her that the ground floor held the natural history collection of local fauna, while upstairs were exhibits of ethnographic items such as models of longhouses of the various ethnic groups of Sarawak, musical instruments, fish and animal traps, handicrafts, models of boats, and ceremonial clothing and artifacts. Clearly, it was too much to take in for one visit.

Julie sat inside the model of a longhouse, or a rumah panjai, on a woven mat, looking at a set of photographs that showed how the interior was arranged. Essentially one long wall ran along the length of the building and served as a sort of corridor and communal verandah. Part.i.tioned sections served as s.p.a.ces for family units. Cooking fires were either in the corridor or in an adjoining area at the end of a suspended walkway. The photos gave only a sketchy sense of what a longhouse might be like, but now Julie's interest in the life of tribes like the Iban was really piqued.

Had her great aunt sat in a smoky longhouse somewhere in Sarawak, talking with these people who were once known as sea Dayaks and had been pirates and head-hunters? Julie wished she'd had the time to retrieve Bette's book from her mother and read it before she came away.

Finally she found her way to the museum bookshop. This too, was a treasure trove of information, history and art. The woman behind the counter, who looked to be in her late forties, was a mixture of Malay and possibly Iban, judging by her deep olive skin, dark b.u.t.ton eyes, small flat nose and straight dark hair. She was keenly attentive, which was not surprising as Julie was the only customer browsing among the bookshelves, carvings, artifacts and souvenirs.

'Are you looking for anything special?' asked the woman.

Julie shook her head. 'Not really. Everything is so interesting.'

'Your first time in Sarawak? Are you staying long? Where are you going?'

'I'm with friends who are taking me upriver to meet some Iban. I was hoping to learn a little bit about them before I went,' said Julie.

'You are a tourist? An academic or business person?'

'Tourist, I suppose. Except my family spent a lot of time in Malaya in the old days so I'm sort of retracing a bit of family history.'

'Your grandfather was in the war? You are Australian. I know the accent.'

'My grandfather was English. He ran a plantation at Slim River and I'm visiting here for the first time,' said Julie.

'Tracing family roots, eh? We have quite a lot of family histories recorded here. I run the library as well,' said the woman.

'This is a brilliant museum. I mean, really impressive when you consider the collections,' said Julie.

'We had a very wonderful curator after the war until the sixties. A true eccentric Englishman, a most interesting character. I am Mrs Ping. If I can be of any a.s.sistance ...'

'Thank you. Actually, I wonder if you might know about my great aunt. She wrote a book about her time here in the early '70's ...'

'As so many did, mostly the men, as they undertook more adventurous exploits. What was your auntie's name?'

'Bette Oldham. She wrote about spending some time with the Iban people.'

'Yes, of course, I know it. We had a copy here some months back. Quite a rare publication. I believe we sold it. She was interested in the orangutans, too, was she not?'

'I'm afraid I don't know. I only know about her book about visiting Borneo and her time staying with the Iban. Did she write about orangutans?'

Mrs Ping squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of her nose. 'I'm trying to think. I'm fairly sure she wrote a pamphlet of some kind. It was early days then. Logging wasn't at the level it is now, which has caused such problems for the animals. The 1970s was the start of what is happening. Perhaps your relative saw the problem before anyone else.'

'I do wish I could have met her or known more about her,' said Julie.

'There could well be people still alive who knew her,' suggested Mrs Ping.

'Really, do you think anyone might remember her? My aunt would have been in her late eighties now, if she were still alive.' The thought that she might be able to meet someone who had known Bette thrilled Julie.

'I'll make it my personal challenge to find out something for you. Where are you staying? Do you have a mobile phone number?'

'Yes. This is so kind of you. We're going upriver in a day or so, where I doubt there's any reception. I'll check in with you when we get back.'

'If you have some time before you go, perhaps you'd like to go out to the wildlife sanctuary. I'd be happy to take you. I work there as a volunteer. Here's my number. Give me a call if you find that you have time,' said Mrs Ping.

'You mean to take me to where the orangutans are? That'd be fantastic. I'll have to check with my friend arranging my trip to see the Iban. He's an anthropologist and he has a small team with him. I'm tagging along.'

'Lucky you. What's your name, by the way?'

'I'm sorry. I'm Julie. Julie Reagan.'

'I'm Angie Ping. We shall see each other again, soon.'

When Julie told David of her meeting with Angie Ping at the museum bookshop, he was pleased for her.

'There you go! See, I knew you'd enjoy it here. There's so much to see.' He hugged her. 'We're going to have an amazing time.'

Julie found herself, unusually for her, taking a step backwards. David's enthusiasm was a bit smothering and, while she found his company enjoyable and his help invaluable, she thought he could be a bit over the top at times.

'How are Matthew and Barry going with the preparations?' she asked.

David frowned and sighed. 'The usual hold ups and delays. The men bringing the boat downriver on the last jungle leg of the trip had to attend some ceremony. A burial, I think. So they've gone to the Ruming long-house, which will delay us a few days. But transport from Kuching to the first-stage landing is all on schedule. Unfortunately, I have to catch up on paperwork. Getting expeditions up into the backblocks requires a lot of form filling and discussions with the authorities. Just when you think you've given them everything they want, they think of something else.'

'I see. That sounds frustrating,' said Julie.

'It is, but it will all work out. I'm sorry for the delay. I'll try and keep you entertained while we're stuck in Kuching,' said David.