59. Melak

Blog entries
the patong of a Dutch priest, in Barong Tongkok

the patong of a Dutch priest, in Barong Tongkok

Comfortable base for exploring genuine Dayak longhouses and mausoleums.

Another ces (engine-powered canoe) brings us from Muara Paho to Melek, a fairly large mining town. Under normal circumstances, this would be a 2-3 hour affair, but thanks to the high water we take a short-cut, which cuts of a significant bend in the river, and reduces the travel time to a little more than 1.5 hours. Which is quite enough, because the river here is still quite wide, and not a very exciting scenery.

the shortcut, a really narrow channel

the shortcut, a really narrow channel

some boats moored along the river bank, on the way to Melak

some boats moored along the river bank, on the way to Melak

a woman and her husband's nets

a woman and her husband’s nets

logging is a big thing, here

logging is a big thing, here

The river near Muara Paho is, supposedly, home to the freshwater Irrawaddy dolphins, but with so much debris, and rubbish, in the river, it is impossible to spot which hump on the surface is a dolphin’s head, and which is not. I take it that none of them were, as the Irrawaddy dolphin, like in so many other places where they occur, have a tough time surviving, partly from getting entangled in nets, but also because of the pollution from boats and from mining.

high water in Melak, inundating part of the street along the river

high water in Melak, inundating part of the street along the river

Getting off in Melak, we set foot again on terra firma, no board walks here – yet parts of the town are flooded, due to the high water levels of the river. The town itself is standard fare, not particularly attractive, but – to our delight – we find a hotel with large, comfortable rooms, AC and hot water, as well as satellite TV and fast internet.  Quite a change from the previous days.

Melak is a good base for exploring the surrounding Dayak villages and their longhouses, by car. On the way, we come across the Kersay Luwak Forest Reserve, a stretch of forest with, reputedly, more than 50 types of orchids. But once again, we find ourselves in a bind, the only person present at the entrance wants an exorbitant amount as an entrance fee – something like three times what we paid in Bogor Botanical Gardens – but cannot issue an official ticket. And is not prepared to negotiate. As it is still raining, anyway, we give it a miss.

We admire the longhouses at the villages of Benung and Eheng, claimed to be 76 and 53 years

longhouse in Benung

longhouse in Benung

several patongs outside (the one on the left is holding a microphone)

several patongs outside (the one on the left is holding a microphone)

patong of a woman outside the Benung longhouse

patong of a woman outside the Benung longhouse

inside the longhouse, clearly being used

inside the longhouse, clearly being used

and buffalo horns come in handy

and buffalo horns come in handy

coffins in the mausoleum outside the Benung longhouse

coffins in the mausoleum outside the Benung longhouse

the coffins are nicely decorated with dragon heads

the coffins are nicely decorated with dragon heads

longhouse in Eheng

longhouse in Eheng

the entry to the longhouse

the entry to the longhouse

old, respectively, and both decorated with patongs, the wooden sculpted totems. Having seen a few longhouses now, they are in fact mainly impressive because of their size, but they are not particularly beautiful. Architecturally, the houses in Tana Toraja and Mamasa, but also the Rumah Adats in Flores and the Batak houses in Sumatra are for more advanced. And the same counts for the wooden sculptures, the patongs, which are mostly big and tall, but aesthetically not very special, and rather coarsely carved. They are often funny, though, like one with a mustache looking very much like a Dutch colonial officer – although judging from the state of the sculpture, this is probably a copy, in this climate not much of wood will have survived from colonial times. Other great examples are the patongs outside the Catholic church of another village, Barong Tongkok, depicting two Dutch priests, apparently from around 1965.

next our final stretch of river upstream

 

58. Muara Pahu

Blog entries
window in Muara Paho

window in Muara Pahu

Another boardwalk town, non-descript stop along the Mahakam River.

To get back to the main river from Mancong and Tanjung Isuy our ces once again crosses part of the Danau Jampang, only to suddenly dive into the weeds to follow a for us invisible channel, equally suddenly ending in a narrow stream through a forest. This is obviously a connection with the Mahakam, as there is a fairly strong current against us, but even more challenging for the boat driver are the sharp bends in the stream, and not knowing what is on the other side – like other ces, for instance, we encounter quite a lot of traffic. The monkeys are also back, and so are some of the birds. A nice surprise, and an enchanting one hour until we reach Muara Pahu.

Chinese fishing net

Chinese fishing net

some part of the forest burnt down recently

some part of the forest burnt down recently

back in the jungle, on the way to Muara Paho

back in the jungle, on the way to Muara Pahu

narrow channel back towards the Mahakam River

narrow channel back towards the Mahakam River

The water is indeed high, so high that the ces cannot pass under the bridge to reach the dock, and drops us outside the village instead. Which requires us to change to flip-flop mode, slippers, and wade up to our knees through the water. Never a dull moment.

the only street, board walk, in Muara Paho

the only street, board walk, in Muara Paho

and one of the sellers, parked

and one of the sellers, parked on the only street

catch of the day, delivered by bicycle

catch of the day, delivered by bicycle

fishing nets drying

fishing nets drying

high water, even the cemetry has been inundated

high water, even the cemetery has been inundated

Muara Pahu is not more than one street, or rather, one long board walk, along and at the mouth of the Pahu River, another tributary of the Mahakam. Shops, a wooden mosque, some restaurants, and houses, all along the board walk, some of the parts of which are loose, to the effect that even I, walking alone, emulate the sound of a tank passing.

The guest house is the same basic affair, room with a bed and a fan, and shared bathroom, but the place happens to be next to an internet café – populated with all 6-10 year olds behind large screens, playing games – from which we get the wifi password. Quite unexpectedly, internet along the Mahakam River! (with previous century connection speed, but never mind).

Carl Bock used the same route via the Jempung Lake, during his 1879 expedition, but he didn’t go further upstream the Mahakam than Muara Pahu, from where he followed the Pahu River instead, southwards. Muara Pahu in his days was the furthest place Malay people had settled, indicating a certain civilization and safety. Anything further inland was entirely Dayak populated, and thus suspect and dangerous on account of head-hunting practices and cannibalism. Times have changed, I hope!

next: Melak, further upriver

high water doesn't stop a table tennis game from going ahead

high water doesn’t stop a table tennis game from going ahead

a laundry country, I have said it so often

a laundry country, I have said it so often

57. Mancong

Blog entries
kingfishers don't come nicer than this

kingfishers don’t come nicer than this

Scenic Dayak village at the end of a beautiful and lively jungle river, somewhat marred by rubbish.

The Sungai Ohong – Ohong River – is a tributary of the Mahakam River, which empties in the Danau Jempang. It is also one of the most spectacular sceneries of our Mahakam River trip.

Muara Ohong, at the mouth of the Ohong River

Muara Ohong, at the mouth of the Ohong River

woman with whithened face in Muara Ohong

woman with whithened face in Muara Ohong

a heron, apparently used by the fishermen

a heron, apparently used by the fishermen

trees partly under water along the river

trees, partly under water, along the Ohong river

the Ohong River

the Ohong River

the blue and grey bird I was talking about

the blue and grey bird I was talking about

A short ride from Tanjung Issuy is Muara Ohong, a village from where we leave the lake, and enter a fairly narrow channel that turns out to be the Ohong River. Initially, the banks are covered with low trees and reeds, the water with weeds through which our ces finds its way. Soon, however, the trees grow taller, the river narrower, and we are cruising through what feels like a tunnel, the trees overhead occasionally closing in.

monkeys in the tree

monkeys in the tree

proboscis monkey

proboscis monkey

macaque monkey

macaque monkey

large bird, unknown to me, and not particularly pretty

large bird, unknown to me, and not particularly pretty

Kingfishers, brilliantly coloured blue and yellow, zap across the water, disturbed by our presence. Another beautiful bird, blue and white with a red chest and a light blue beak, is rarer, and more elusive. In between, red proboscis monkeys and the good old black macaques move through the trees – easily identified when whole branches violently move from an overkill of monkeys landing on top of them. High above a hornbill, and several other large birds which we don’t recognize, fly along the top of the forest, out of reach of our cameras. This is also the Indiana Jones-feeling. Fabulous.

rubbish accumulating in the river

rubbish accumulating in the river

and rubbish being collected behind the bridges

and rubbish being collected behind the bridges

and this is how it gets into the water: woman emptying the rubbish bin in Macong

and this is how it gets into the water: woman emptying the rubbish bin in Mancong

wholly integrated sewerage system

wholly integrated sewerage system

Except that in every bend, and at every whirlpool, rubbish has collected, plastic bottles, paper boxes, bags, anything really. At some of the villages we pass, the water under the bridges is clogged with rubbish, mixed with forest debris. Everybody just dumps whatever they don’t need anymore in the water; the water will take care of it. Which it doesn’t of course, but that doesn’t seem to bother the people. They seem to be quite at ease with living in between their own waste. Never mind that they wash their clothes, and themselves, in the same water that contains the rubbish, as well as their excrements, of course; one of the advantages of a house on stilts is that the sewerage is taken care of.

the longhouse in Macong

the longhouse in Macong

inside, the length of the longhouse is even more impressive

inside, the length of the longhouse is even more impressive

patong outside the longhouse, with moustache

patong outside the longhouse, with moustache

green bucket

green bucket

canoe

canoe

Mancong, the village we were heading for, is a case in point. Lovely village, all wooden houses on poles, connected with board walks above the water– it has been raining a lot, and the water is very high. And rubbish floating everywhere, to which I see a woman happily adding another pile. Which does distract, but only a little, from the magnificent two-story longhouse of Mancong, complete with patongs – tall wooden sculptures of people or spirits. We climb inside, but there is nobody, the place seems deserted; here and there the roof is caving in. Off the main hall, which stretches the full length of the longhouse, there are rooms, with stairs to the upper level. Unfortunately, the stairs are blocked: perhaps for the better, I wouldn’t want to come crashing down from the second floor.

After an hour, or so, we leave Mancong again. Despite the rubbish, the way back, back through the jungle the same way we came, is just as nice, with more birds and more monkeys. Absolutely brilliant. I am not sure the houseboats would have managed this.

next: back to the main river at Muara Pahu

56. Tanjung Isuy

Blog entries
wooden statues at the longhouse cum losmen in Tanjung Isuy

wooden statues at the longhouse cum losmen in Tanjung Isuy

Slightly abandoned Dayak village with a refurbished longhouse, at the edge of a large lake.

Muara Muntai forms the beginning of the Mahakam Lakes District, a series of lakes to the south of the river. As there are no public ferries here, we had hired a ces, an engine-powered canoe, to get to Tanjung Isuy, at the far end of the biggest lake. This is travel at its best: a narrow boat, with purpose-made back support panels, and pillows, under a sun cover, and low cloths on the side against water splashing. A pleasant speed, generating a draft to keep you cool. Raise your camera, and the boatman automatically slows down, point left or right, and the boatman with change course, anticipating you have seen a bird, or something else that needs closer inspection. Remember Mr. Bean conducting an orchestra? Something like that, but then for real!

weeds and bamboo poles in the Lake Jempung

weeds and bamboo poles in the Lake Jempung

white herons fishing in the fishing nets

white herons, lazily fishing in the fishing nets instead

grey heron

grey heron

boats trying to hide in the weeds?

boats trying to hide in the weeds?

We left the main river and entered a fairly wide channel, well endowed with green banks, which after a while ended in the Danau Jempang, a vast expanse of water that apparently supports enormous reed growth. Either the reed had been harvested, or the water was so high that we only caught the top of it, I don’t know, but all that was visible in the water was a green sort of grass or weed, with the occasional bamboo pole in between. Full of many small birds, as well as white and grey herons, feasting on the fishes no doubt.

 

Jantuk, a surprisingly affluent village in the middle of the lake

Jantuk, a surprisingly affluent village in the middle of the lake

with their own, albeit rolling, mall

with their own, albeit rolling, mall

Somewhere in the middle of the lake, in the middle of nowhere really, is Jantuk (?), another board walk village along the banks of several channels, all teeming with little boats ferrying people, and school children, back and forth. Here fishing is the main thing, and for the first time we see here the so-called Chinese fishing nets, so common in India and Vietnam – but not in China, as far as I know. Strikingly, this place, like quite a few other villages we would come across, looks rather affluent, with large and well maintained houses.

 

 

 

 

unidentified structure, one of several in the middle of the lake

unidentified structure, one of several in the middle of the lake

Chinese fishing net

Chinese fishing net

some parts of the lake are really just an expanse of water, and air

some parts of the lake are really just an expanse of water, and air

the entry to the longhouse

the entry to the longhouse

one of the patongs - wooden statues - outside the longhouse

one of the patongs – wooden statues – outside the longhouse

At the far end of the lake in Tanjung Isuy, ready to receive tour groups, or so the guide book makes us believe. We check in in one of the two losmen, guesthouses, which is also a restored longhouse – or lamin, in local language. We are the only guests. In fact, we are the first guests in three weeks, according to the log book. But the longhouse certainly has spare accommodation, there are many rooms! A longhouse is the traditional centre of a Dayak community, shared by many families who occupy a room, or just a part of the longhouse partitioned off with a curtain or something. The tradition is fading, people can afford their own house these days, and many of the longhouses are falling in disrepair. But with government support some, like the one in Tanjung Isuy, have been restored, and given a new life as tourist centre, complete with dance performances and, in this case, accommodation.

other nice wooden house in Tanjung Isuy

other nice wooden house in Tanjung Isuy

with decorated window

with decorated window

But it is low season, perhaps the reason that Tanjung Isuy looks rather depressive, poorer than Muara Muntai and Jantuk, with many of the wooden houses boarded up, if not falling apart. Only one restaurant is open, so it is grilled chicken for lunch, dinner and breakfast – that’s all they serve. When we want to hire a ces, nobody seems interested, except one guy, who demands an extraordinary amount of money, and refuses to budge. How does that work, supply and demand, if there is only one demanding, and one supplying? Only in terms of guesthouse we are a notch up from Muara Muntai, with mosquito net provided, and cold Bintang Beer available – here the tourist industry credentials of the longhouse are showing.

Yet, not inviting enough to stay any longer than necessary. We beat economic theory by calling our old ces driver from Muara Muntai on his mobile, and arranging for him to come and get us, for the next leg on our trip, Mancong.

55. Muara Muntai

Blog entries
fisherman in Muara Muntai

fisherman in Muara Muntai

Charming small board walk village along the Mahakam River, but with rather basic hotels.

Past Tanggerong – well past Tanggerong – the industrial level subsides somewhat, there are also less houses, and the scenery becomes greener, and more attractive. We even spot some birds, herons and fish eagles, as well as small sea gull-like birds busying themselves scooping up fishes, or whatever else they find on the river. Occasionally, villages appear, now mostly dedicated to fishing – although coal remains a big issue, witnessed from the impressive amounts of it that are still being ferried downriver.

the quay in Kota Bargun

the quay in Kota Bargun

We reach the next big settlement, Kota Bargun, at 5 pm, much later than scheduled. Here there are cars again, on the bank; there is also a spectacular new bridge over the river, including a road through the low lying swamp supported by pillars, which disappears into the distance, but it seems to be leading nowhere, at least there are no cars on the bridge or the road.

The delay means that we will be continuing in the dark, and thus pick up even more delay, as the boat necessarily slows down to avoid possible collisions. If it is dark on the Mahakam, it is really dark!

We finally arrived in Muara Muntai, at 9 pm, still in the dark, of course, although there was some light along the streets. “Streets” is a big word, Muara Muntai is built over a swamp, or shallow lake, something prone to flooding, so everything is on stilts, including the roads, which are in fact raised wooden walkways. Well, walkways, somehow nobody seems to walk here, everybody has a motorbike, the sound of which takes some getting used to in Muara Muntai; every time a motorbike passes, it is as if a tank comes by, the effect of the bike riding over the wooden planks.

the Tiara Hotel; the satelite dish is a distraction, nothing to do with television in the hotel

the Tiara Hotel; the satelite dish is a distraction, nothing to do with television in the hotel

We managed, with help of the friendly villagers – back to Indonesian standards, as far as that is concerned – to find a small hotel, with the beautiful name of Tiara. Which was also the only beautiful thing, for the rest it was a pretty basic affair. Our room had a bed and a small fan, nothing else – nothing else would have fitted. Shared toilet was a squatting latrine, shared bathroom was a mandi, a large water reservoir from which one scoops water over oneself, surrogate for a shower, a cold shower, needless to say. When I mentioned mosquito nets, the lady laughed, no, no mosquito nets. Towels perhaps? She laughed again, in a way that clearly indicated that I had not understood the concept of Indonesian losmen, guesthouses. So, no towels, either.

There were also no nails in the walls of the room, so with the help of safety pins we attached our own emergency mosquito nets to the curtain. The bed itself was a thin mattress on a set of hard wooden planks, not necessarily designed to hold the weight of two white Caucasians – and certainly not long enough. So two things could go wrong, during the night: the curtain could come crashing down under the weight of the mosquito nets, and/or the planks could collapse, under the weight of the two of us. Thankfully, none of it happened. After having switched off the light – by undoing the bulb, otherwise all power, including fan, would have gone off – we slept relatively well, despite the continuing sound of tanks moving up and down the village.

the dual carriage way board walk

the dual carriage way board walk

a seller occupying the middle of the dual carriage way

a seller occupying the middle of the dual carriage way

closest to a mall, and iced cappucino, in Muara Muntai

closest to a mall, an iced cappucino, on Muara Muntai boardwalk

a wooden window

a wooden window; you’ll find that in every village

fish being grilled, note the little fan to blow the charcoal

fish being grilled, note the little fan to blow the charcoal

Waking up, and dismantling the mosquito nets, we found we actually had a room with a view: a somewhat distorted view over the river. The village itself, by daylight, turned out a lot bigger than we had expected, all along board walks. The one that also contained all the shops was actually a dual carriage way, although the concept was totally ignored by the villagers. Houses were almost all made of wood, too, often nicely decorated and painted in jolly colours. The place also looked relatively clean, until we realized that all the rubbish is just being thrown off the walkways, in the water and the mud underneath. The river will take care of that, no?

Pleasant enough, Muara Muntai, but not so pleasant that we would stay a full day, we arranged a ces, a canoe with outboard engine, to take us to the next place on our list, apparently touristic Tanjung Isuy.

chilli peppers are everywhere in Indonesia

chilli peppers are everywhere in Indonesia

and some birds enjoying themselves along the river bank

and some birds enjoying themselves along the river bank

54. the Lower Mahakam River

Blog entries
sailor on one of the coal barges on the Mahakam River

sailor on one of the coal barges on the Mahakam River

The lower part of the Mahakam River is an entertaining stretch of river, densely populated and dominated by extractive industries and busy shipping.

the kapal biasa

the kapal biasa

The kapal baisa to Muara Muntai left Samarinda early. Five minutes early. These are large boats, some 4 meter wide and maybe 30-40 meter long double deckers. Below is a sitting area – sitting on the floor -, where also the motorbikes are parked and the freight is stored. On the upper deck are bunks on two sides, perpendicular to the length of the boat, with a narrow passage in between, very low – especially for tall Westerners! The bunks have thin mattresses for those who travel through the night, or just hang around during the day; not us, for most of the time we occupied the tiny front deck, with full view over the river ahead of us. At the back of the boat is a small restaurant, where a lady whips up excellent meals, and tea and coffee, and at the back below are the toilets, essentially a hole in a wooden plank.

dredging engine

dredging engine

boat loaded with sand from the river

boat loaded with sand from the river

The first part of the river, all the way to Tanggerong and beyond, is very much industrialised, both on the water and on the banks. Numerous small dredging platforms are moored in the river, pumping up sand that is loaded in small barges, no doubt to be sold later. Seems pretty hard work, which proves Bock’s observation that all the natives are lazy wrong – Bock was rather negative where it concerns the local people.

houses along the Mahakam

houses along the Mahakam

another wooden house on stilts, a quite unusual and beautiful design

another wooden house on stilts, a quite unusual and beautiful design

wooden house on stilts

wooden house on stilts

coal barges and a towing boat alongside

coal barges and a towing boat alongside

coal loading station and conveyor belt, filling a sportshal

coal loading station and conveyor belt, filling a sportshal

what I initially took as a scrap yard, is actually a shipyard

what I initially took as a scrap yard, is actually a shipyard

logs stacked on the river bank

logs stacked on the river bank

Onshore, the left bank (south bank), which is  also the side of the road to Tanggerong, is almost continuously built up with houses, floating and on stilts, interspersed with ship yards and coal mines, or rather, coal loading stations, which consist of conveyor belts that run all the way inland to the mines, beyond sight. The loading stations fill huge barges, easily the size of a sports hall, which are subsequently pulled down river by often brightly-coloured towing boats, a stark contrast with the black coal. The towing boats and barges are constructed in the shipyards, although the first time I saw this, I thought that I was looking at an old, rusted remnant of a towing boat: unfished, unpainted, they look rather less attractive. The other business is that of hardwood: the Bornean forest that is being emptied is stacked up along the banks of the river.

Tanggerong announces itself through the presence of some bigger buildings, but for the rest, not much changes in the scenery. There is also more build-up on the other bank now, including an enormous stadium, and small ferries ply in between, carrying motorbikes and cars.

a small ferry taking motorbikes, and their helmets, to the other side

a small ferry taking motorbikes, and their helmets, to the other side

 

In the days of Carl Bock Tanggerong was the seat of the Sultan of Kutai, who ruled over large parts of the Mahakam River. Then, as now, Tanggerong was a smaller version of Samarinda, according to Bock, with houses “most of them dirty, both inside and outside, and  round of them (…) equally dirty children”. The boat made a brief stop here; even though things may have changed, we had no intention getting off.

we continued, instead, to Muara Muntai

 

when there are no coal barges, the herons come down

when there are no coal barges, the herons come down

the fish eagle wouldn't

the fish eagle wouldn’t

53. Carl Bock

Blog entries

In the 19th Century Borneo was still very much territory unexplored by Western travelers, whether naturalists, ethnologists, geographers or adventurers – the most common descriptions of those who tried to shed light on the dark of hitherto white spaces on maps. One of the reasons for this was that several earlier expedition leaders had died, mostly due to hostility of the Dayak tribes in the interior, and through machinations of the Sultan of Kutai, who controlled a large area along the east coast of Borneo, and its hinterland along the Mahakam River.

Carl Bock, a Norwegian explorer employed by the Dutch Indies governor-general, became the first Westerner to enter deep into the jungles of Borneo, and come out alive again, thereby traveling a good deal of the interior of the island. In 1879 he traveled from Samarinda, on the east coast, up the Mahakam River and then turned south on the Barito River to reach Banjamarsin in February the following year. An important part of his success was no doubt his ability to convince the Sultan of Kutai to accompany him, no mean diplomatic feat in those days.

Bock wrote an account of this trip, “Head-Hunters of Borneo”, which is one of those fabulous travelogues of the 19th Century, a bygone era as far as travels are concerned (I have commented before on the fact that I have been born too late…). Although severely criticized at the time, for being not scientific enough, and for an obsession with the Orang Buntut, men with tails that were supposed to roam around in the Bornean jungle and were the perceived missing link between apes and men, Bock’s book is well written and entertaining. It has been suggested that Bock was more interested in capitalizing on the adventure story then contributing to the greater understanding of the world in general, and Borneo in particular. His focus on head hunters and cannibals certainly helped selling his book and turning it into a cash success. More peculiar is that later travelers appear to have ignored his account completely: it seems to have been pretty common to claim to have been the first one to have crossed Borneo, at the time, as did the Dutch scientist A.W.Nieuwenhuis, who participated in three expeditions between 1894-1900. Another Norwegian, Carl Lumholtz, traveled Bock’s route in reverse for a period of no less than two years, in 1917-1919, and almost certainly had his maps, but fails to mention Bock in his own account of his journey.

We have rather less time, as we start with the Mahakam River, for which we have reserved about ten days – which will bring us about twice as far upriver as Bock ever got. Granted, we have access to a lot more knowledge than the early explorers had, and much less anxiety about head hunters and cannibals. As far as the Barito River is concerned, we may tackle that from Banjamarsin later – doing exactly as Bock had been advised so many times; trekking through the interior of Borneo is still quite an exercise, and not only just to organize, and after all, we have to get back to Samarinda first to pick up our suitcases!

next: the first part of our own river journey

52. Samarinda

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fishing trap and floaters

fishing trap and floaters

Starting point for trips on the Mahakam River, Samarinda has little else to offer.

Our arrival in Kalimantan was by plane: having learned from the Pelni experience – boring, in first class – we flew from Manado to Balikpapan, the so-called gateway to Eastern Kalimantan, and got a taxi to Samarinda, a two hour drive.

Kalimantan (the Indonesian part of Borneo) is, once again, different. Here no rice paddies, no neatly kept gardens, no densely populated countryside. Instead, there is this frontier atmosphere. Except for the main Balikpapan to Samarinda highway – still a two-lane affair -, roads are rough and unfinished, tracks disappear into the jungle, to mines. The general driving style is what you would expect here, maniacal. Many houses seem to have been constructed in a hurry; many are still being constructed. The rubbish is back, along the road, and in the kampungs and the villages.

corner in Samarinda

corner in Samarinda

chicken seller in the Pasar Pagi

chicken seller in the Pasar Pagi

Samarinda fits the picture. Apart from a few fancy hotels and the inevitable malls, the town is mostly two-story buildings, run-down. Not much has changed: Carl Bock, who traveled in Kalimantan in 1879, and about whom more later, said of Samarinda “this is the most miserable place I have ever seen, the natives and their buildings correspond in squalor”. The town will have grown since Bock’s time, but the main activities still happen in a small center, next to the river. This is where the Pasar Pagi, the morning market that lasts the whole day, is, and where the main shops are, as well as the banks, the hotels and the rather few restaurants. People are generally non-communicative.

Dayak shield, allegedly decorated with human hair, in the antique shop; we need to establish a bruno&sofia foundation accepting generous gifts to facilitate the acquisition of this piece

Dayak shield, allegedly decorated with human hair, in the antique shop; we need to establish a bruno&sofia foundation accepting generous gifts to facilitate the acquisition of this piece

And yet, appearances deceive. On our second day in Samarinda, we also meet some extremely friendly people, the travel agent and her husband who help us find tickets, and a whole lot more, the antique dealer who happily spends half an afternoon talking to us even though he knows we are not going to buy anything, the cook who takes the initiative and buys fresh bread especially for the only two foreigners in the hotel.

The only reason to come to Samarinda is to commence a trip up the Sungai Mahakam, the Mahakam River, an over 900 km stretch of water into the Bornean interior. There are tour operators, of course, and one can use comfortable house boats to visit the more accessible parts of the river. Not us. There is also public transport in the form of what is called the kapal biasa, a river ferry that runs as far as the water level allows it to run, and for shorter excursions away from the main river you can hire a ces locally, a wooden canoe with outboard engine. Plenty of villages along the way, for accommodation and food. The one key requirement is that we travel light; luckily we identified an old colleague of mine who now lives in Samarinda, and he agreed to look after our suitcases.

view of the river side in Samarinda

view of the river side in Samarinda

the place where the kapal biasas leave

the place where the kapal biasas leave

Ah, and the other key requirement, of course: finding out where and at what time the kapal biasa leaves. For this, we need the advice of Bock’s natives. The Samarindans hadn’t stuck us as particularly forthcoming or helpful, rather indifferent to foreigners, but now they showed their true, shall we say, entrepreneurial side. The hotel receptionist flatly denied that there was anything like a ferry, and began to organize a car for us – on which he would no doubt earn a commission. We walked to a more upmarket hotel, which would perhaps have a travel agent, but they didn’t, and they claimed not to know about the ferry either. They were equally happy to organize a car, or even a speedboat – no doubt for the same reasons. We asked the police. They proposed to rent out their patrol car to bring us upriver. After insisting that we wanted to go by boat, they admitted that there was a ferry, but they didn’t know where it left from, only that it left at 4 am. In the end three men in the street, who could not possibly generate any business interest from us traveling upriver, told us what we needed to know, and the next morning, just before 7 am, we boarded the kapal baisa to Muara Muntai, our first target – a place where even with the best will of the world, you cannot get to by car.

but first, a little explorer’s history, and the first part of the river journey

two barges in the Mahakam River outside Samarinda

two barges in the Mahakam River outside Samarinda

51. Sawangan

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carved sarcophagus cover in Sawangan

carved sarcophagus cover in Sawangan

A cemetry with a difference, bringing together an impressive collection of pre-Christian, synonymous with pre-Dutch colonial, sarcophagi.

In between Manado and Bitung is Airmadidi – “boiling water”, in Bahasa Indonesia, referring to a hot spring – and its suburb, or adjacent village, Sawangan This is where the Minahasans have brought together the tombs of their forefathers, those that still existed in the surroundings, to protect this part of their cultural history.

sarcophagi in the Minahasa cemetry in Sawangan

sarcophagi in the Minahasa cemetry in Sawangan

a single tomb, upright

a single tomb, upright

a delicately carved tomb cover

a delicately carved tomb cover

Before the Dutch, staunch Protestants as they were, with little room outside the dogmas of their religion, banned the practice in 1823, the Minahasans buried their dead in large, stone sarcophagi, hollowed out rocks in which the bodies were placed upright, in the fetus position, accompanied by rich offerings. Most of the contents has disappeared, by now, grave robbers you’ll find everywhere, but the sarcophagi and their covers remain, often intriguingly decorated with carvings of men and women, or other symbols. Seeing them all together, realizing the amount of work that must have gone into creating them, such a long time ago, is in fact quite impressive.

next: we move to Kalimantan, starting in Samarinda

a double dragon, or crocodile, perhaps

a double dragon, or crocodile, perhaps

sometimes, the sarcophagi are also carved, like this one depicting a man and two women, giving birth

sometimes, the sarcophagi are also carved, like this one depicting a man and two women, giving birth

50. Batuputih

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a tarsier, just as curious about us as we were about him (courtesy Sofia)

a tarsier, just as curious about us as we were about him (courtesy Sofia)

A jungle National Park where it is difficult spotting animals, for different reasons.

Our final few days in Sulawesi were earmarked for the Tangkoko National Park, touted as one of the most accessible parks in Indonesia, with guaranteed sightings of tarsiers, black crested macaques and hornbills. Tarsiers? Apparently, the smallest primates in the world, indigenous to parts of Indonesia and the Philippines. Black crested macaques are monkeys, and hornbills are birds.

the black beach in Batiputih

the black beach in Batuputih

 

So we made our way to Batuputih, a small coastal fishing village at the edge of the park, for a couple of jungle walks, one late afternoon and one early morning. The late afternoon one was a joke. It was a Sunday, which is the day that the park is also open for beach parties, or so it seems.  Large groups of youths, with cars and motorbikes, and blaring stereos, had taken possession of both the beach and the access road, which is also used by everybody else. Cars, motorbikes, stereos and people, especially youths, are the four things that make most noise in Indonesia, and if you have them all together, no tarsier or monkey or hornbill is going to come near.

 

colourful fishing boats on the beach

colourful fishing boats on the beach

and in the sea

and in the sea

the fishermen have competition, a fish eagle

the fishermen have competition, a fish eagle

everywhere along the coast are these signs, pinting in the direction to higher grounds in case of a tsunami: excellent development

everywhere along the coast are these signs, pinting in the direction to higher grounds in case of a tsunami: excellent development

In the end we saw two tarsiers, indeed tiny little animals, but only because our guide walked straight up to the tree where they lived – apparently, tarsiers spent their entire life in the same tree. And then we walked straight back again, edged on by another group, whose guide was coming to visit the same tree, same tarsiers. Total and utter waste of time.

the jungle is quite attractive, even without animals

the jungle is quite attractive, even without animals

a humid environment, full of mushrooms

a humid environment, full of mushrooms

a kingfisher, difficult to spot in bewteen the dense foliage

a kingfisher, difficult to spot in bewteen the dense foliage

and a hornbill, equally difficult, so high up in the trees

and a hornbill, equally difficult, so high up in the trees

if you wouldn's know better, this is just an especially green branch, no?

if you wouldn’s know better, this is just an especially green branch, no?

The next morning we spent another four hours walking, spotting an average of one animal per hour; one tarsier, one kingfisher and one hornbill – hornbills live in the tops of trees, and trees in the jungle are very tall. And a scary green snake who occupied the track we were following. The morning was saved when we encountered a large group of black crested macaques, all the way at the end of our walk, very close to the park entrance. Monkeys are always fun to watch, and so were these, the adults foraging, the younger ones chasing each other through the trees.

black crested macaque overseeing the world

black crested macaque overseeing the world

woman and child, so cute

woman and child, so cute

and one of the dominant males

and one of the dominant males

The animals we didn’t see were the ants, or the mites, that attacked my ankles, but they surely made the most lasting impression of all. I have been scratching for at least another five days.

next: a special burial ground at Sawangan

goat contemplating whether to get in the hammock or not

goat contemplating whether to get in the hammock or not