Scattered Seeds

From the Cameron Valley Tea Shop, the group trekked through a scenic tea plantation before reaching Kampung Sungai Ubi. Ismail, whom I met over a year and a half ago, was our guide.

Ismail

Women of Pos Atap

Bepampan

Bahkerop, an Orang Asli, who is over 90 years old

The same two Orang Asli whom I photographed in March last year were our guides out from Pos Atap to the Sungai Ubi village.

All geared up after a night at Pos Atap

Let’s move it, move it…

On the trail to Sungai Ubi

Ammar

Sebastian

Strange Leaf

———————
Related Links:
• The first trek to Pos Atap in March 2008.

This post will be a work in progress. Work is piled high and I’ve intentions to write this ascent of my second G7 in the mold of Chronicles of Tahan—in verse. Ideas are in the head, but finding the time to sit and write is not an easy task. And so it is I will write in bits and pieces till all is complete. For now, what appears will be, in Eliot’s words, “a heap of broken images,” and it will fit quite nicely into what I’ve started for “Chronicle of The Gunung Yong Belar”.

Self-Portrait on the peak of Gunung Yong Belar

Synopsis:
This tale tells the story of the fateful meeting with the dragon of Mount Yong Belar. The tale begins with an impending war drawing ever nearer. Evil forces are forging ties with neighbouring forces to raise a formidable army against the King. To save the land, the King embarks on a journey that takes him to the Blue Valley, the barren stretch of Botak Hill, the desolate camp of Tudung Periuk, and Kem Kasut before he can humble himself before the throne of the unicorn of Gunung Yong Belar to seek an alliance against the approaching army. But surprises await him as he discovers his plot and his lot.

And so here are lines lines lines of the walk in the jungle:

20090501 • Day #1, Morning
…
The path branched off in many places;
Each time off’ring a way seemingly more pleasing.
Soon, I found myself in a disorientating maze
I would have tender’d reasoning senses for madness
Had it not for the many the seemingly ominous
Serpents of at least a few thousand feet long;
There on the ground they lay silently—
Their presence forebode an unlikely doom
Should they—or ev’n one—be provoked to rouse
And be denied their dreams of a thousand eggs.
Wake them not!
                     Wake them not from their slumber-state!
Once observed, the bodies of the huddled serpents
Seem’d to lead the way to my single horned beast;
T’was now easier to unravel this present maze than
Theseus did in the Labyrinth.
                                    When he overcame
His two-horned adversary, Theseus had with him
A ball of thread tightly rolled by his love
To lead him out.
                      I had none. I needed none.
…
…
Carefully side steps the leathery-like hide
Some wrapped in blackest black
Some with crimson stripes,
Some with blue and others of green. Some with hissing
And…
Their bodies seem’d to stretch on and on;
Their heads were not seen, and unknown it was
From whence they came. Their bodies were all.
The creatures shed all shyness and sought prominence
in every little nook and corner.
Soon they were everywhere.
…
…
20090501 • Day #1, Evening
…
…
The glorious sun has near ran its course
And still I was not at rest at a river’s bank.
Five hours of a constant march it should have been;
But seven hours have I walked along the trail
To the peak of Mount Yong Belar, and
That spot that would be my home was not in sight.

It has taken me so much longer than planned;
For I had walked I back and forth along the same trail
With eyes glued to the ground, carefully scanning
For an inapposite whiteness of square paper trails
Scattered amonst the natural colours of the wild.
Seeing none, I looked up at branches, searching
For the distinctive marks of our absent guide.
But none I saw…
…
…

In the night, with cold wind biting into my bones,
I called out repeatedly,
                                ”Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold”
And behind my back a firm resounding echo was heard:
                                ”Panas. Panas. Panas. Panas.”
‘Twas like a spell chanted to counter the bewitching cold.
“It’s all in the mind,” said Botak Chin.
And I gently nodded my head and in silence whispered,
“Yes, Master,” like a wide-eyed green Padawan would.
…
…
20090502 • Day #1, Late Night to Early Next Morning
…
…
Hypnos came to shower his gifts upon the King,
But slight t’was the little gift of sleep awarded.
For while the King slept he fought; the gravity
Of Nature most p’werful yanked at him—
Not once nor twice, but countless times—
‘Till it was a norm to see him sliding and gliding
Down the uneven slopes that was his bed.
Throughout the night, ‘it was towards the dangers
Of a rushing river of cold waters he would go.
Like Sisyphus condemned to rise and fall with
His rolling rock upon a hill for all eternity,
So, too, the King was made to stamp his foot
Upon the ground and to push himself up anon.

When the crickets and cicadas silenced themselves;
When shy feather’d creatures began their little songs;
When dew drops came together and fell gently upon the ground;
When the inky cloak of day is substituted with a lighter hue;
The King rose.
Though slight was the gift of sleep,
Tired sluggishness of the ev’ning before did flutter and flit
It’s wings and to whence it came, departed.
…
…
A current in the jungle
Picked his bones in whispers. As the King rose and fell
Over the hills that numbered from one to seven,
He seemed to pass the stages of his age and youth—
And entered the vortex chamber of the unicorn of Gunung Yong Belar.
…
…

Pretty Big Budding Fern

20090501 • Day #2, Noon
…
…
Having left all but one behind, the walk was a lonely one.
Still, Meng Chwen marched on and on, singing
            ”Just up to the top of the hill,
            Upping and upping until
            I am right on the top of the hill.”

Upon the hour, Meng Chwen came face to face
With Botak Chin, who was surprised by such a sight.
Thought he that Meng Chwen had sped off

He wished he had not made the wish the day before;
T’was all there—Oh! Look thee up in the sky. See you not?
There it is. The white-out. His white-out.
Many times has Meng Chwen encountered the plight
Of such pure blindness of sight.
Oh, how many times has it happened?
With a heavy forced suspiration of forc’d breath
And a slow pendulumic rocking of his head,
The silence in the air was broken;
“So many, so many. So so many—
T’was so at Tambuyukon. So, too, at Besar Hantu,
Nuang, Tahan, Hulu Semangkok and Suku.”
…
…
            There’s nothing to see, so when
            You’ve got to the top, what then?
“Just down to the bottom again,”
            Said Meng Chwen
…
…
Then the unicorn of Yong Belar appeared.
…
…

Botak Chin & His Lunch at the Summit of Gunung Yong Belar

20090501 • Day #2, Night
…
…
share in the meal
…
the King partook in the cooking
…
it is best to be super extreme
…
the saltier the better
the sweeter the better
…
…

20090501 • Day #3 Morning
…

The King learns of his lot.
For the third time in as many days,
The King did what only a Meng Chwen could do.
He missed the junction that had opened its gates
To the path that leads towards the lands where
His humble people and Queen do greet one another
With a “Hello” or a “Kierro” when people meet and
Exchanged “Tooloo” for Godspeed and fare you wells.
Anon, he walked on unknowingly
Ever in ascending crescendo for moments long
Along the path to the unicorn of Gunung Yong Belar.
…

20090501 • Day #23 Evening
…
The King in stately steps strolled the
Sweet scented sections of the forest
‘Till he came before the steps
numbering two hundred and eighty eight.
…
…

More will come soon…

Nepenthes on Gunung Yong Belar

———————

My hunt for the Rafflesia flower took me to Kampung Ulu Geroh in Gopeng, Perak.

Rafflesia Cantleyi Blooming

Together with five others, we left the Klang valley and headed north as soon as everyone was gathered in the morning. Reaching Gopeng was the easy part. Finding the road to the Ulu Geroh was the difficult part—after we returned home, I realised that if I had brought along an article I found during my research we wouldn’t have spent some 30 minutes circling town. The easy cruise from the Klang Valley to Gopeng soon took us along a narrow tarred road. Greenery walled us in on both sides and I thought it was a welcoming sight. It has been quite a while since I found myself enveloped by such lush greenery.

We soon arrived at My Gopeng Resort. But we were arrived fifteen minutes later than anticipated. The delay caused us to wait at the resort for nearly an hour. The van that was to pick us up had left; the driver thought that we had ventured into the jungles on our own. To cut a long story short, I eventually met up with my contact, Ahha, and the van finally came to pick us up. I normally don’t remember the plate numbers of vehicles I use, but ABX5011 is stuck in my head.

From the resort, it was a twenty-minute bumpy ride. If not for the slow speed, I would have called it the Roller Coaster ride of Gopeng. We arrived at the Orang Asli village, and I was so glad to put my feet on solid ground.

We were introduced to Azmi—we call him Bah Ngah—and his daughter Amelia, a quiet teenage girl. They were our guides to look for the Rafflesia. It was a pleasant day to walk; and we happily followed our guides. Bah Ngah sports a belly and he told us he hadn’t been guiding recently. Even so, he was happy telling us the names of the three Orang Asli villages (Bah Ngah is from Dusun Buluh), the various types of trees and plants. It’s too bad I can’t remember the load of information he was churning out; and that made me want to return for another trip with a voice recorder. The trail is wide, not too steep and definitely well used. After all, many tourist and visitors now throng to this place to view the Rafflesia Cantleyi that’s endemic to the area.

Rafflesia Flower Buds

After we crossed a stream, Amelia seemed to have disappeared. Bah Ngah wasn’t worried. After all, they have been guides for a few years now, and the surrounding jungle didn’t worry the Orang Asli. We walked on for a fair bit, but we found no Rafflesia. After we walked up a mild steep section, Bah Ngah told us to wait as we went looking for the flower.

Well, he found the flower. He found Amelia, too. She had been with the flower for a while waiting for all of us. When we asked her how she got there so soon, she said she knew that her dad had taken the wrong trail but she did not want to stop him. She told us that he needed the exercise.

Suyin sniffs. Suyin smells. Suyin swoons not.

We came looking for a Rafflesia. We were presented with two flowers. Strangely, there wasn’t the kind of liberating sense of awe like when I stand on a mountaintop. I didn’t shout, “My first Rafflesia!” I just stood there admiring the two flowers. Then I remembered that I had to take a deep breath. I expected a pong of foul-smelling rotting meat. But there weren’t such smell. I thought the flowers were rather sweet smelling—that was until I took a deep breath at the new bloom. It was the first time any of us had seen a Rafflesia, and we were busy making models of the two. They weren’t flowers in their prime—a Rafflesia takes nine months to bloom. When it does, a flower only lasts up to five days—as one seemed to have just started opening its lobes, and the other was close to it’s end. Still, I was awe-struck. I was seeing the largest flower in the world–OK, it was only 46cm in diameter so it wasn’t at all very large. But I was looking at a Rafflesia in the wild. I took in all the smells and splendour that the flower could offer. I even touched the lobes. And it is so hard to believe that so many Malaysians have never seen a Rafflesia up close when it’s just in their own backyard. I didn’t want to leave, but we had spent like an hour plus with the flowers.

What was usually a two hour outing to view the flowers, the six of us spent nearly four hours in the jungle and two Rafflesia flowers. After we got back to the hall, we were again made to wait. ABX5011 had left to take some older folks out to a church. When the van returned, we had waited an hour or so, and it was raining heavily. The bumpy ride ended a few minutes short of the resort where our cars were parked. We had to walk along a bridge to cross a river that had swelled so much the van couldn’t pass.

It had been a wonderful outing, and we continued the day by taking a detour to Ipoh for food before returning home. And then we took an ultra long detour because Suyin decided to lead us so.

Now that I’m writing this, I just wanna shout to the world, “I have seen my first Rafflesia!”

———————
Related Links:
• Suyin’s blog entry
• Tet Leon’s blog entry

Rafflesia Cantleyi

If there was anything I learned since Merdeka Day last year, it is to have a plan. This year, it was trying to get a bunch of people to scream “Merdeka” at the summit of Gunung Kinabalu.

And so it was that I was in Sabah with 15 others—some of whom I love like my own kids, some of whom I find hard to love—enjoyed the sights, smells and sounds as I walked the Masilau trail, reached Laban Rata faster than my previous attempt, and felt a whole lot better at high altitude with no headaches or difficulty breathing.

I reached Laban Rata as I had intended. And I went no higher than Gunting Lagadan on this trip to Sabah.

There are, of course many tales to tell—like the tale of the tortoise at the summit of Gunung Kinabalu, how the giant squids came about, hot mushroom soups, dancing ballerinas in the forest, and the casual walk to the Wetlands Centre—but, I am sure, many would want to hear my tale of why the mountain got the better of me on summit day.

• • • • • • •

I hadn’t planned of going up Gunung Kinabalu until a few days before I hopped on the plane. My early enthusiasm had waned over the months since May. Chief among the series of events that brought about my decision of not wanting to be on the summit (or even starting the journey) was the bad bout of backache. There were other reasons, of course.

But the thought of not finishing what I started was to much to bear. Somehow, I felt that being on the mountain would be an encouragement to the others whom I have led since the time I started planning for the trek. Plus, on a more personal front, I liked the thought of being on another trek with Tet Leon, Suyin and Mei Fong.

On August 31, 2008, fourteen team members stood on the summit of Gunung Kinabalu. I was not one of them. I’d have joined them but a series of unfortunate events rendered me rather helpless and all I could do was go to bed and sleep.

I had gone to bed at about 9:30 p.m. the night before after escorting Mei Fong up to Gunting Lagadan. The two of us were the last two remaining from our group to leave the Laban Rata Resthouse. Everyone else had finished dinner, settled down after a long day’s hike and retired for the night—in Panar Laban and Gunting Lagadan—much earlier. The time we spent chatting, sending messages to various ones from our phones, and using tissue to dry our shoes was rather like a father-daughter bonding session that’s quite hard to come by these days. By the time we decided to walk in the cold night air (about 8°C) to our respective rooms to hit the sack it was about 9 p.m.

But at about 11 p.m., I woke up to a sudden tummy ache caused by a sudden hunger pang. I stuffed myself with a few cookies and slices of dried meat, but the pain didn’t go away. Fearing that it might be the onset of altitude sickness, I quickly put on my boots, strapped on Nee On’s faulty headlamp, and took off from Panar Laban down to Laban Rata. The height difference wasn’t much, but the fresh air did me some good. I slumped into a chair in Laban Rata and tried to sleep. By then, I had a nauseous feeling that didn’t seem to go away. I eventually let everything out; and that made me tired. All I could do was rest my head in my arms on a table, and sleep.

When I woke up, it was 2:30 a.m. and I wanted to get to the summit—a decision I made when I felt really good having walked the Masilau trail some hours earlier. I was still feeling a little weak, but I rushed up to Panar Laban only to find out that I had been locked out of my own room. I have no one to blame but myself for this predicament. Now, I was not only feeling a little sick, weak and tired, I had no access to extra clothing, my camera and Irau, the blue elephant. I could still go up in whatever clothes I had on, but weakness got the better of me. Rather than struggle up the mountain in thin layers of clothing, a faulty headlamp and a tired body, I only made my way up to Gunting Lagadan. Knowing that one other team member was sick and in no shape to go up the mountain, I had a warm room I could get into. And that was where I stayed for the next few hours until Jenn and Suyin returned from the summit trek at about 8:30 a.m.

I didn’t go to the summit that day. But hearing Suyin tell me about the trek and the summit made my day. To know that the the fourteen who attempted to reach the summit had succeeded meant as much to me as being at the top myself.

That was when I realized that I didn’t have to be at the top—not this time anyway. It’s not always about being at the top. Yes, it would have been nice, but not necessary.

• • • • • • •

I don’t know what hit me on the mountain. But throwing up on one of South East Asia’s highest mountain on Merdeka Day isn’t all that fun. Whether it was a bout of food poisoning, which I suspect it was, or altitude sickness that got the better of me this time around, I don’t feel bad about not standing on the summit. Unlike the first time I did not succeed, there are no regrets at all this time around.

Instead, my resolve is to attempt Gunung Kinabalu again (and again and again if I have to). Trekking up the mountain seems to get easier each time I am there. But that’s not the point. The point is that I’d like to be walking up the mountain with my favourite kakis.

And also to meet the friends I have made and to eat bowls after bowls of yummy laksa and ngau chap in Kedai Kopi Yee Fung in Kota Kinabalu.

With Suyin and Mei Fong in Kedai Kopi Yee Fung. © 2008 Soh Chui May

———————
Related Links About Kinabalu 2008:
There are some blog entries that give detailed accounts of the trek. While they are not my thoughts and my writing that contain some happenings that would have been part of my unwritten tale of “The Misfits of Kinabalu”, they do provide glimpses of a successful trip.

• Mei Fong’s Blog Entry
• Gabby’s Entry, Part 1
• Gabby’s Entry, Part 2
• nadia’s Account (includes her lost baggage story)
• Jessin’s detailed account of the Mesilau Trail trek

Related “What Not To Do On Merdeka Day” Links:
• What Not To Do On Merdeka Day (The one that started it all)
• Things Hasn’t Changed On Merdeka Day (the sequel)
• What Not To Do On Merdeka Day Part 3