Mari, Mari: Head Hunters Ahead!

‘Mari Mari’ means ‘Come Come’ in the, or a, Malaysian language. There are 3.5 million people living in Sabah, the Borneo portion of Malaysia referred to as ‘The Land Below the Wind.’ They belong to 30 ethnic groups and speak 80 languages; the national language is called Bahasa Malaysia. Borneo’s total population is around 20 million. The English East India Company set up a trading post here in 1761. Wiki summarizes its more modern connection to the U.K.: ‘Sabah became a protectorate of the United Kingdom in 1888 and subsequently became a Crown colony from 1946 until 1963, during which time it was known as Crown Colony of North Borneo. On 16 September 1963, Sabah merged with Malaya, Sarawak and Singapore (left in 1965) to form the Federation of Malaysia.’ We landed at Kota Kinabalu, Sabah’s modern capital (population 700,000) filled with high rise buildings. Much of the city was destroyed during World War II, and seventy percent of the city is built or rebuilt on land reclaimed from the ocean.

Once again, many mosques. With its Equatorial/Tropical climate, the country boasts some of the world’s oldest rain forests... habitat of ‘the person [or man] of the forest’ — the critically endangered Orang Utan. The aptly named Proboscis Monkey, with its long floppy nose and pot belly, also calls Sabah home. I didn’t see either (others on other tours did), but I did go ‘in country’ to see a ‘cultural village’ recreation of jungle homes of some of Sabah’s indigenous tribes. Visit to the Mari Mari Cultural Village Access to the village was across a bamboo and rope swinging bridge that swayed with a shimmy as we walked. It was about 20 feet above the rocky creek.

I’m afraid I’m not positive which hut, food, custom or skill belonged to which tribe. Except the headhunters — the Murut. I remember them! The website says: ‘The village features 5 different ethnic tribes [of Borneo]... the rice farmer Kadazan-Dusun, the longhouse resident Rungus, the hunters and fisherman Lundayeh, the cowboy and sea gypsey [sic] Bajau, and the famously feared headhunting tribe Murut.’ I didn’t see any cowboy gypsies.

Our guide is from the Dusun tribe; this is a Dusun-style hut. Phyllis used to visit her grandmother, who lived a 2-hour walk up a mountain, where she grew vegetables and fruits to sell to villagers who lived down the mountain. Kadazan-Dusun: Showing how rice wine is made, of rice, sugar and a smidge of tobacco juice for flavor. We sampled some — could not taste the tobacco.

Rungus tribe: This young man worked a sliver of bamboo in a slit on a larger piece of bamboo to make fire. No flint needed. The floors of all the huts were made of split bamboo — springy and comfortable to walk on. Pieces of bamboo stalk about 12 inches long are used to cook food: Diced chicken, potato, onion + salt were put inside the tube, its end was covered with a piece of leaf, and the tube was placed atop coals for just a few minutes. The stalk does not burn, and is reusable.

This beautifully adorned young lady showed us the jungle way to create a bee hive out of bamboo and collect honey. The bees are very, very small, and their honey was very tasty — not as sweet as what I’m used to. In the second picture, you can see two of the bamboo hives in the upper left.

Pots in trees. In olden days, pots like these but bigger were used as coffins. The potted person was then put on the roof of the house. For how long, I didn’t ask. Did I mention the climate is very hot?

We sat down under this decoration, on a long bench made of bamboo, and were served a sample of tapioca, which is a common ingredient and thickening agent in Southeast Asia.

She’s frying sweet and airy rice cakes that look like light-weight, loosely packed shredded wheat.

This hut was especially colorful. Others were bare bones.

Did not care for these chewy pancakes. About my usual food paranoia: I tasted things that were fried or fermented.

Friends Mary Anne and Steve on a ceremonial wedding bed.

Our bus heading towards the village had been our polling station: We elected Stan to be our chief. It was his job to meet the tribal chief and introduce himself, say where he was from, and the purpose of his visit. The answers had to be satisfactory: The man in the feathered hat is a Murut — the famous head hunting tribe. There is a record of the taking of heads as late as 1998, on an island near Sumatra. Our village guide, right, interpreted.

Still with the Muruts. Many Vikings got henna tattoos that last 5 or 6 days, even with showering.

Local barrista, serving local coffee.

Our visit eneded with a performance by members of each of the 5 tribes, all backed by this combo.

The Muruts, again, this time performing the bamboo dance. The bamboo poles are moved very quickly and very noisily in a very prescribed pattern while the dancers deftly avoid having their ankles snapped by the poles.

Dance with blowgun. The dart stuns the prey — animal or human — and the knife at the other end finishes the job.

Fun-loving headhunters: This is called a lansaran... a rattan trampoline built into the floor of a longhouse. Yours truly tried it out.

Since I tried to actually get airborne, I got out of cadence with the rest of the bouncing trampoliners and nearly fell. I am told a half-naked resident ran up and was ready to catch me from behind. Not one of these two...

Except for Australia, I have arranged to visit native peoples in every other country. I can see skyscrapers and shopping malls anywhere. This is a once-in-a-lifetime privilege. #