As I have previously explained, Bev and I were the PMs in Batu Puteh throughout the entire expedition, but during Phase 2 we were joined by a third - one Mr Thomas Stewart.
It doesn't take a genious to work out how Tom got his nickname - TT (aka. Tourettes Tom). Never have I heard the word 'fuck' (sorry Mum) in so many sentences. We ended up having to ban him from radio comms as the guy who monitored all Raleigh conversations in Singapore was threatening to take Raleigh off the air as a result. Worldwide!
I first met Tom at the Staff Development weekend. By this stage we'd all been put through our paces on assessment, we'd got through it without having a mental breakdown, been accepted as staff and invited to yet another scout camp to meet the full staff team and learn some soft skills. Life coaching, a bit about dealing with difficult 'youths', managing conflict, that sorta thing.
Oh, and the pub of course, our first proper team bonding session. The weekend was taken by Nathan (sexy Nathan). Almost the first thing he said to us as a group after welcoming us was 'Guys, all I ask of you is tonight when you go to the pub, don't get rat-faced and bowl back at silly o'clock in the morning waking everyone up.'
Chorus of 'No, Nathan........................ NO, 'course not'.
The following morning was a bit awkward as we all surfaced with large headaches after only a few hours sleep. My last memory was sitting on Bev's shoulders, holding Kev's hand singing 'I've... HAD........... THE TIME OF MY LI-I-IIIIFE'. Then, as a team, we re-enacted that scene from Dirty Dancing - I got to do the leap :).
I considered trying to explain it away as a 'trust' game (they were big on them at Raleigh), but basically it was drunken idiocy. No getting around it. Sorry Nathan.
Anyway, TT. I can't say he made a huge impression on me at that weekend, I'll be honest. Nice enough but I thought he was trying a bit too hard. During staff induction in KK I still never really spent much time with Tom and therefore when it was announced he would join me and Bev as a third PM for Phase 2, I think I had my reservations.
I just wasn't sure we had clicked. Bev and I had established a way of working and already forged a very close bond. Would a third person be able to add to that in any way or would it be awkward?
On Day 1 of Phase 2 it was instantly very clear to me that Tom was raring to go, and willing to put 120% of his heart, soul and energy into, well - everything. I reminded myself of Rory's words, 'If someone challenges you, or you are not sure about them, go right on up to them and engage'. Following this maxim I fiddled proceedings so that I got to work with Tom and we threw ourselves into pathway laying.
It was seriously back-breaking work..... Bev and I were already used to grafting like animals, but to Tom it was all a bit new. Therefore I was enormously impressed at how he pushed himself, totally willing to go above and beyond for Alpha 2.
Possibly he was trying to prove himself and slot into our way of life, but actually I just think that's how Tom is. And as I got to know him - we laughed more and more. And more. And as a result I felt deeply in love with Tom. Just friend-love, Tom was soon to be a-fianced (proposal plans were already afoot for post Raleigh travelling), but I fell hard and fast.
He made such a big impression with the participants too, and once again, I don't think he was necessarily trying to connect with them, it just came naturally. His endless swearing immediately gained the respect of the boys (and the girls who flirted with the boys) and every single evening round the dinner table he had the entire team wetting themselves with laughter. I had to try and stop myself trying to monopolise his time, I just wanted to sit next to him as much as possible, because he made me feel so happy.
Tom had had a rough ride in stages of his life, one afternoon we shared our stories and both of us have gone through stuff which has shaped the people we are today. We are both pretty trusting, and I think that's one reason why we both seemed to bond with the participants so deeply, because we both put ourselves out there, don't try to be someone we're not, and as a result they 'got' us.
Tom threw himself into every moment of Alpha 2. He never once stopped thinking of the team, making effort with even the most trying of parps. One, in particular, who shall remain nameless - I've never seen somebody bend over quite so far backwards to try and engage this young kid to try and get him to salvage something from his time in Batu Puteh.
Us PMs all refused to believe that there is not a soul on earth who could visit this village and not come away having fallen in love. So when we came up against a pesky young 'un who refused to work, came up with every trick in the book not to get involved, and his only excuse was that the project wasn't 'community' enough - well, it was frustrating to say the least. We did not understand. Turned out that 'not community enough' can be translated as 'I'm a lazy arse'.
Tom did not stop trying once though to get through to this perplexing parp. And the way he went about it was so sweet and so funny, it was hard not to laugh out loud inappropriately - but Tom mate, I have to tell you it was pure magic watching you go about it.
One day sticks very clearly in my mind. As a treat for the hard working team, Bev, Tom and I had arranged with Rosli that instead of our normal lunch at the Eco Lodge we would herd the whole team onto the jetty and a boat would drag us out into the middle of the beautiful Tungog lake. Mescot and Raleigh, all together. Them with their tasty curry and rice, us with our peanut butter and crackers ;)
Lots of excitement from Alpha 2...... they ate, they laughed, they took in the stunning scenery and thanked their stars above for being sent to this awesome place. All apart from one, Participant X who had his permanently pained expression firmly pasted on. Still determined, Tom quizzed him on what might be wrong. He named all of his supposed ailments, asking him what was up. He spoke about how amazing the lake was, cleverly insinuating there should be no reason on earth to not be joining in the fun with the group.
Parp X knew he was being rumbled, and had no real excuses left to throw out there, I forget what he came up with in the end, but Tom caught my eye and we just dissolved into giggles.
I could relate. Once upon a time, I WAS that stroppy kid. As a teenager I believe that I lead my parents through hell at one point, probably ruining some lovely family holidays, just because I couldn't get a grip, bloody well stop being so miserable and join in. I'm sure I used 'ailment' excuses as to my apparent continuous dark mood. Having Parp X on my team made me want to ring my parents and apologise for all the times I'd been that way. Not quite to the same extent I don't think, but nevertheless, moody biaaatch, I was.
As Tom and I laughed until we were in pain at the sheer ridiculousness of Parp X refusing to enjoy such a treat, TT upped the ante by singing the theme tune to the Hovis advert - you now the one, 'Doooo do doooooo, do dooo doooooo, doo do do-do doooooooooooo............' where the poor little kid is soldiering up the hill with his heavy bike. And the tune stuck, and it was hard not to convulse when Tom would gently hum it under his breath if Parp X was being particularly 'woe is me' about things.
It is testament to Tom's patience and thoughtless nature though that he tried to make things better for this lad right up until the end. We were in agreement that neither of us wanted him to go away and regret not throwing himself into things and having a ball like everyone else did.
Another of my favourite TT moments was when he lost his sandal. It was an expensive rafting Merrell sandal. One of the deeply unattractive ones that tend to get associated with lesbians. We all had to have them, they were on the 'essential' kit list (I'm not sure I wore mine once, Raleigh, take heed). Tom wore his a lot though, he loved them. And during a particularly vigorous bout of trying to get the blessed jetty out of the mud and back in the water, Tom was suddenly down a Merrell. Man he was annoyed. Expletives left, right and centre. Eventually he made his peace with it and continued to get on with life. Occasionally muttering about how there was a lucky monkey somewhere down stream, modelling a (very expensive) sandal.
But lo! What miracle occurred just a week later! The sandal was found! Fossilised in mud, but sure enough, the Merrell lived! Dear God I have never seen such unabashed, pure and total joy over the finding of a shoe. He told everyone in the village, he shouted it from the treetops. The monkeys knew, most of Sabah knew.
As a result, the River God of Shoes took Lois' left welly the next Day.
'He Who Must Be Appeased', I guess.
How guilty do you feel Tom?
Tourettes Tom, it was an absolute honour having you in Alpha 2. I particularly love the way you shout like a girl when you poor cold water over your head - ah special jetty-washing moments :)
If you read this I hope you will not take offence at the fact I had my reservations about you at the off-set. You know now how I feel about you, and I treasure your friendship as I treasure my green stripey Celtic Rosli-socks. Now you KNOW what that means :)
Have I told you lately that I love you?
Saturday, February 16, 2008
The Journey is the Reward
Oh yes indeedy. A very VERY good friend of mine told me that not so long ago and you know, it's so true.
There is also, in my opinion an exception to every rule, and in fact some journeys are just damn well frightening.
The last week in Kota Kinabalu has been lovely. Relaxing and quiet, some intense 'me' time. Yesterday I decided enough was enough though I must re-integrate into society so I booked myself onto the 9.30am bus to Sandakan where I am spending the night in anticipation of being reunited with Beverley Salmon first thing tomorrow. Yay!
It's been lashing it down with rain for the last four days, so the bus trip was a bit of a rough drive to say the least. In fact it was more of a surf than a drive. Never have I seen so much excess water without it actually being the sea.
I was also under the impression that in Malaysia they drive on the left hand side of the road - same as UK. Not so, our Sandakan driver. We spent most of the journey on the right hand side of the road, and he blithely overtook like a man possessed, whilst the passengers sat bolt upright in their seats, faces frozen in fear. Each time I made eye contact with a fellow passenger though, those massive wide grins broke out again, accompanied by loud peals of laughter.
If you're ever in need of a pick me up, feeling a little blue and want some attention, get to Malaysia - Sabah in particular. I feel like a movie star.
Dinner this evening (Mmm honey chicken) was no exception, with an added short encounter which had me laughing into my iced milo.
A westerner walked past the restaurant and stopped at my table. I kind of did a double-take - westerners are few and far between around these parts, its not exactly the back-packers beaten track, only REAL adventurers get this far (sorry).... anyway. He stopped and (Germanly) said:
'You sleep with me, yes?'
Er, well I ........................
'In my room, room 10, you are in room 10, yes?'
Oh, I see. 'Yes, I'm in room 10, Sandakan Backpackers next door you mean?'
'Yes, excellent. We sleep together....' and with a big grin, off he went.
Jesu Christo. He's lurking behind me right now as I type, Germanly smiling at me. Yikes.
Mum told me expressly not to talk to strange men on my travels, but if they keep talking to me, what's a girl to do? Eyes down, ipod on, is what.
So.............. tomorrow I ride with Mr Martin Vogel (the lovely Mr Danger) to Mengaris to be re-united with my wife, it's been so long. Apparently building a new Raleigh Palace (camp site) is well under way but work has not re-commenced on the Eco Lodge, a combination of lack of materials and a very poorly Rosli, who has apparently been in hospital with a high fever. There was talk of tree planting, so with this crazy weather I foresee being very muddy indeed for the next 48 hours.
I'm gonna suck it up though as after this little journey-ette I won't be seeing Mengaris for....... who knows how long. A very sobering thought :(
There is also, in my opinion an exception to every rule, and in fact some journeys are just damn well frightening.
The last week in Kota Kinabalu has been lovely. Relaxing and quiet, some intense 'me' time. Yesterday I decided enough was enough though I must re-integrate into society so I booked myself onto the 9.30am bus to Sandakan where I am spending the night in anticipation of being reunited with Beverley Salmon first thing tomorrow. Yay!
It's been lashing it down with rain for the last four days, so the bus trip was a bit of a rough drive to say the least. In fact it was more of a surf than a drive. Never have I seen so much excess water without it actually being the sea.
I was also under the impression that in Malaysia they drive on the left hand side of the road - same as UK. Not so, our Sandakan driver. We spent most of the journey on the right hand side of the road, and he blithely overtook like a man possessed, whilst the passengers sat bolt upright in their seats, faces frozen in fear. Each time I made eye contact with a fellow passenger though, those massive wide grins broke out again, accompanied by loud peals of laughter.
If you're ever in need of a pick me up, feeling a little blue and want some attention, get to Malaysia - Sabah in particular. I feel like a movie star.
Dinner this evening (Mmm honey chicken) was no exception, with an added short encounter which had me laughing into my iced milo.
A westerner walked past the restaurant and stopped at my table. I kind of did a double-take - westerners are few and far between around these parts, its not exactly the back-packers beaten track, only REAL adventurers get this far (sorry).... anyway. He stopped and (Germanly) said:
'You sleep with me, yes?'
Er, well I ........................
'In my room, room 10, you are in room 10, yes?'
Oh, I see. 'Yes, I'm in room 10, Sandakan Backpackers next door you mean?'
'Yes, excellent. We sleep together....' and with a big grin, off he went.
Jesu Christo. He's lurking behind me right now as I type, Germanly smiling at me. Yikes.
Mum told me expressly not to talk to strange men on my travels, but if they keep talking to me, what's a girl to do? Eyes down, ipod on, is what.
So.............. tomorrow I ride with Mr Martin Vogel (the lovely Mr Danger) to Mengaris to be re-united with my wife, it's been so long. Apparently building a new Raleigh Palace (camp site) is well under way but work has not re-commenced on the Eco Lodge, a combination of lack of materials and a very poorly Rosli, who has apparently been in hospital with a high fever. There was talk of tree planting, so with this crazy weather I foresee being very muddy indeed for the next 48 hours.
I'm gonna suck it up though as after this little journey-ette I won't be seeing Mengaris for....... who knows how long. A very sobering thought :(
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Two Very Important People
This is me with Miss Beverley Salmon and Rosli. The 'crack team' of professionals who headed up Alpha 2 with the able assistance of Tourettes Tom who joined us in Phase 2.
Tom will get a post all to himself later on.
Bev was my fellow Project Manager. My partner, colleague, wife, best friend, partner-in-crime, confidante, advice-giver, motivator, supporter. She was my rock. I love that girl. We hit it off instantly at the Staff Development weekend so long ago, and during the induction fortnight in KK before expedition we continued to bond. I think we both seemed to sense that we may end up working together. To Rory and Laura who headed up Raleigh Malaysia - a huge debt of thanks for the foresight to know we'd make a very strong team.
We complimented each other so well, we could seemingly 'read' each other, and by the end of expedition could almost communicate just by eye contact alone. Working with Norsalleh, another much-loved Mescot member who was deaf/mute meant that we often tended to chat in Malay sign language as well. Strange but true and it was handy to get one over on the parps when we needed to talk about them, not to them.
Sharing expedition life with Bev was special, and even though we were on the go pretty much 24-7, we never stopped communicating, and always kept each other in mind. We trusted each other, respected each other and always discussed decisions before addressing the parps. This kept us strong in the face of any adversity which dared to show us its face.
Another very important person to me was Rosli. Head of Mescot, Rosli is a shy, gentle man with a wonderful sense of fun. Patient with the continuous demands of Raleigh, meeting all our requests with a big grin and the refrain 'buleh bah, kalau kau' - which roughly translates as 'yeah, cool, no worries'.
When I first met him, he was fasting. It was the month of Ramadan, and the strict Muslim community was quiet to the point of deserted. We scheduled a meeting with him on our Project Planning Visit and I had very big reservations on how that working relationship might go as well. Distracted and mumbling I found it hard to understand what he was saying and I struggled to follow the thread of conversation, we weren't getting any answers.
Later I realised he was just starving and struggling in the heat without fuel. Yet he'd come to the meeting, anxious to meet the next Raleigh crew, even though inside he probably felt dreadful.
As I fell in love with Rosli, it became clear to me that Raleigh was also very dear to his heart, and personally I found him the hardest person to say goodbye to at the end of our time there - we shared so many experiences, spent so much time, worked so hard alongside each other.
Testament to how well Bev, myself and Rosli got on, he decided that one of the important fortnightly Mescot meetings be rescheduled so that the entire team could share a day off with us. Every Monday we gave Team Alpha 2 a day's rest from work and organised a trip instead. Rosli excitedly told us that this one particular Monday, leave everything to them, they would arrange the day.
So it was with unabashed joy that the day in question, 3 boats full of shouting, laughing and singing Mescot members and Raleigh-ers scooted off up stream for a trek to some bat caves and a huge communal picnic. Happy days.
Rosli, you're a legend. I hope to see you again very soon.
Elephants on the Kinabatangan
So.
Jane and I left the crazy hedonistic world of Boracay and the charming americans with wide smiles and glowing skin and headed to Borneo where I wanted to show her my second home - Mengaris.
We arrived in the village on Saturday 2nd February. A very hot and sweaty two bus rides after seeing the Orangutans at Sepilok. Very entertaining they were too, a few of them walked right past us and there were all sorts of monkey-type japes going on when the bananas made an appearance.
Affectionately known as 'Raleigh Palace' by both us and the villagers, a palace it wasn't, home it most certainly was. A large wooden structure formed the sleeping area, or the 'basha'. It was a row of 14 or so hammocks under a large orange tarp - right on the river bank. You had to be pretty clever how you arranged your belongings and it always amazed me the alarming rate at which I managed to misplace all my stuff on a regular basis. I only had a few pairs of pants, some deet and a pen-knife!
On my return to camp I saw that all the tarps had been stripped from the sleeping area (basha), and the bare skeleton which stood forlornly before me was a sad shadow of its former self. I was told that soon it will be torn down and a new one built. But maybe that's not a bad thing, each expedition needs to 'own' their camp. We spent a few moments in silence taking in the beauty of the river and remembering...........and then I decided it was time to move on, I wanted to remember this place full of people and laughter - not as an empty shell. I made my peace with the ever-present mossies and we sloshed back through the mud to the village.
Jane and I left the crazy hedonistic world of Boracay and the charming americans with wide smiles and glowing skin and headed to Borneo where I wanted to show her my second home - Mengaris.
We arrived in the village on Saturday 2nd February. A very hot and sweaty two bus rides after seeing the Orangutans at Sepilok. Very entertaining they were too, a few of them walked right past us and there were all sorts of monkey-type japes going on when the bananas made an appearance.
We landed in Mengaris early afternoon and were spat out onto the dusty Lahad Datu Rd, large rucksacks rolling around in the dirt..... the 98% humidity doing its worst and leaving us feeling pretty drained. I had butterflies for some reason going back to this place I called home for three of the most important months of my life.
As we approached the Mescot Headquarters which nestles directly under the Kinabatangan Bridge there were cries of 'Amy! Amy!' It was so lovely to be back and the butterflies vanished.
We exchanged hugs, drank hot sweet kopi-o (a kopi susu without the condensed milk) and then were immediately bundled off to a homestay, to stay with Era (one of the Mescot culture group members) and her amazing family.
The Miso Walai Homestay programme is another initiative set up by the village to generate income, and give passing tourists somewhere to lay their heads - the ones that couldn't hack it in a hammock that is.
As we approached the Mescot Headquarters which nestles directly under the Kinabatangan Bridge there were cries of 'Amy! Amy!' It was so lovely to be back and the butterflies vanished.
We exchanged hugs, drank hot sweet kopi-o (a kopi susu without the condensed milk) and then were immediately bundled off to a homestay, to stay with Era (one of the Mescot culture group members) and her amazing family.
The Miso Walai Homestay programme is another initiative set up by the village to generate income, and give passing tourists somewhere to lay their heads - the ones that couldn't hack it in a hammock that is.
On arrival in the house, the kids (Annie - 12, Nipon - 10, Bibi - 7, Sophia - 4, New Born Baby - 10 days) got stuck straight into our luggage (well, not the baby).
'WHATS THIS? AND THIS? AND THIS?'
Lordy - er..... that's deet, it'll probably poison you, um..... thats a sock, that's...... Christ - how do you explain a tampon to a ten year old boy?
Before we knew it we were both having our hair and make-up done (by Nipon the little boy, oddly enough) and so it was with very odd bunches at jaunty angles and quite a lot of badly applied mascara (just on the right eye) that we left the homestay to join in a local volleyball game.
Earlier that afternoon I'd taken Jane to see where I slept when on expedition. It was very strange seeing an empty Raleigh Camp where various Alpha 2 groups had lived, cooked and shared so many good times over the three months.
'WHATS THIS? AND THIS? AND THIS?'
Lordy - er..... that's deet, it'll probably poison you, um..... thats a sock, that's...... Christ - how do you explain a tampon to a ten year old boy?
Before we knew it we were both having our hair and make-up done (by Nipon the little boy, oddly enough) and so it was with very odd bunches at jaunty angles and quite a lot of badly applied mascara (just on the right eye) that we left the homestay to join in a local volleyball game.
Earlier that afternoon I'd taken Jane to see where I slept when on expedition. It was very strange seeing an empty Raleigh Camp where various Alpha 2 groups had lived, cooked and shared so many good times over the three months.
Affectionately known as 'Raleigh Palace' by both us and the villagers, a palace it wasn't, home it most certainly was. A large wooden structure formed the sleeping area, or the 'basha'. It was a row of 14 or so hammocks under a large orange tarp - right on the river bank. You had to be pretty clever how you arranged your belongings and it always amazed me the alarming rate at which I managed to misplace all my stuff on a regular basis. I only had a few pairs of pants, some deet and a pen-knife!
On my return to camp I saw that all the tarps had been stripped from the sleeping area (basha), and the bare skeleton which stood forlornly before me was a sad shadow of its former self. I was told that soon it will be torn down and a new one built. But maybe that's not a bad thing, each expedition needs to 'own' their camp. We spent a few moments in silence taking in the beauty of the river and remembering...........and then I decided it was time to move on, I wanted to remember this place full of people and laughter - not as an empty shell. I made my peace with the ever-present mossies and we sloshed back through the mud to the village.
During the afternoon with the kids, Rosli (Head Mescot Dude) had run into the house all excited. Lots of news! There were elephants in the area and would we like to go to a wedding ceremony?
The elephant situation was thrilling, but at the time it took a backseat behind the invitation to the wedding ceremony.
The elephant situation was thrilling, but at the time it took a backseat behind the invitation to the wedding ceremony.
Grinning broadly, I knew exactly what to expect at the ceremony, but I thought I'd let Jane find out for herself....so I answered her many questions with maddening vagueness. 'You'll see, soon enough'.
Firstly, we would be provided with Hari Raya traditional outfits. These resembled a combination of loose fitting pyjamas made from your
Jane looked nervous in floral peach and blue as I laughed heartily in swirling pink, yellow and purple.
A traditional Malaysian wedding is quite different to those in the UK. The actual marriage takes place in a different place, and then two 'receptions' are held, one in each of the families' houses. Entire villages are invited, and if there are any westerners in the vicinity, they are invited as 'VIPs'. At the reception the bride and groom remain perfectly still, seated on a highly decorated platform. They wear expressions of what I'd call 'patience under duress'. As they sit, heavily dressed and sweating, the guests eat, drink, sing karaoke and gad about in front of them. An MC with a microphone leads karaoke proceedings. In this instance the MC was a classic 'Mr Embarrassing Dad' type. He wore a huge stetson, kept breaking into song a la Frank Sinatra and did an inordinate amount of hip grinding. He was exceptionally keen on getting myself and Jane up on stage, much, it seemed, to the brides growing annoyance. It felt like we were stealing her thunder, but refusal to take part was not an option. Besides, it was so much fun!
No sooner than we'd arrived, (once we'd had our second 'heavy on the carbs' meal of the evening) and our names were down on the list to sing 'Leaving on a Jet Plane' by John Denver. Jane shot me evils as we got up to murder a classic.
Mr Embarrassing Dad kept announcing us as their 'Very Special Guests' and after a while it felt a bit like the Amy and Jane show. I tried to send apologetic vibes to the bride, but her expression remained 'patient under duress' with underlying vibes of stoic resignation.
At ten pm we made our excuses and left the stage for the millionth time, only just avoiding the (still-grinding) hips of Mr Embarrassing Dad.
Jane commented that this must be how it feels to be a celebrity. She wasn't wrong. Everywhere we went we received wide-eyed stares which quickly dissolved into the biggest smiles I've ever seen.
We fell into bed pretty exhausted and keen to get some sleep, as we'd arranged a river cruise for the following morning, early doors. At 6am off we set with a packed breakfast of coffee and noodles and it was beautiful - watching the proboscis monkeys larking about in the misty morning sunrise. We were not disappointed by the local wildlife - a large croc, an electric blue kingfisher, a scampering otter and several special of hornbill kept us entertained.
However. At 2pm that afternoon I received a call from Rosli. Much excitement. THE ELEPHANTS ARE VERY CLOSE. THEY HAVE WRECKED THE ECO CAMP!!! Someone needs to be at the Lodge at all times.... did we want to go and find them and then stay overnight to protect the Lodge??? I had totally forgotten about the elephants in the excitement of the karaoke. This would surely be a dream come true. To see elephants in the wild! At my precious Eco Lodge! I shook with excitement and agreed a plan with Rosli.
We set off at 4pm with a packed noodle-dinner from our homestay family, litres of insect repellent, a mossie net and a whole lot of hope. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. We sailed downstream and met a boat coming the opposite way: 'Go back, go back, jalan jalan, they're here'...... We jalan-ed in the direction being excitedly pointed out by the crew of the other boat and slowly slipped down a small riverlet off the Kinabatangan.
And there, in very clear view were two elephants, desperately trying to scramble up the river bank. But wait! Three more to our right, slipping down the other side of the bank into the water.
We sat and watched, open-mouthed with wonder and disbelief, as approximately 15 elephants appeared through the jungle, slid down into the water and heaved themselves up the other side.
When we thought we'd seen the last of them, we reluctantly started to head back to the Lodge - time was evaporating, daylight was failing and we needed to get settled in the Lodge before dark.
As we emerged out on to the main river a truly 'once-in-a-lifetime' sight met us. To the left, maybe 10, 15, 20 elephants climbing out of the river.... straight ahead another 10 or so swimming across..... to the right, another 15 or so sliding into the water. Trumpeting left right and centre, it was a mind-blowing scene.
Rosli confidently piloted our little boat to nearly within touching distance of these magnificent beasts, much to my trepidation. At times it was a little nerve-wracking, especially - at one point when we were shooed off by a mother protecting her baby.
I have never, and will probably never again see anything like that. It felt like a true blessing from God to have witnessed nature at its finest. People pay thousands of pounds to go on a safari and maybe see a herd in the distance or one or two up close.. Our journey down to Mengaris cost us about a fiver and we had an 'on the off chance' free river trip from a very close friend. That made it even more special, the fact that we weren't amongst a big group of tourists, it was just Rosli, Eddie (our boatman), me and Jane. Finally I could really use the word 'awesome' and not be afraid I was overstating the case.
The orangutans and monkeys at Sepilok were amazing in their own right, however after seeing those elephants I'm afraid a monkey is going to have to do something pretty damn special to get my attention now.
Like, dress in drag and do the hoolah?
Do Not Deviate from That Which Makes You Happy
This evening I did as much and it did me no favours.
So I had nasi biryani ayam (fried-rice-curry-chicken-esque thing). It was luke-warm and too spicy and now my stomach hurts. My poor tum which incidentally has been on the ropey side ever since it came off worse for wear in a battle with a plate of sweet and sour 'fish' on Boracay Island, the Philippines. I generally tend to steer away from anything on a menu which just says 'fish' or 'meat'. I like to have the type of 'meat' or 'fish' specified, so I am reassured I am not tucking into deep fried weasel or fillet of goldfish. But the picture on the menu looked sooooo good (another rule broken, never eat from a restaurant where they feel the need to photograph their food) and I was soooo hungry.
Oh Dear God, was I ever ill. You know when you wake up and instantly know that the next 24 hours (minimum) is going to be a world of hell for you? The food poisoning kicked off a temperature of 39 degrees and I didn't know my own name for a while. But thinking about it now is reminding me of our adventure in the
The
Good news girls, chilvary is not dead. It's alive and well and, if you've the time and trepidation to go looking for it, it can be found in
My best friend Jane and I have, as I've already explained, both completed three-month Raleigh International expeditions at the end of 2007, her in
Before I'd left the
However, I could not have been more wrong. Both of us found the sprawling country strangely bland and sterile. It lacked soul, and we both felt deeply troubled by this. On the back of some incredible photos a fellow Raleigh-er had posted on Facebook from his onwards travel I put it to Jane that we throw caution to the wind and get flights to the
Granted, we didn't do our research properly and we were very much lead by the cheapest possible route into the exotic and slightly dangerous sounding capital of
I'd suggest that the Air Asia website might want to reconsider a little N.B. somewhere on the booking page making travellers aware that Clark (Manila) is actually around 70 miles north of Manila, not actually in Manila, but hey ho, we were intrepid adventurers and half the fun of the fair is landing somewhere unexpected with no real idea where you are. Isn't it? Oh yes.
As we swooped in to land Jane turned to me with a confused look. 'Isn't
Erm, righto. Panic not.
We lurched out of the airport in
Soon enough we had swarms of 'porters' wrestling us for our luggage. I'm not sure they had met any such independent International Women of the World before though, particularly Raleigh-trained ones. My project in particular involved a lot of heavy duty labour so I'd developed muscles to rival that of Fatima Whitbread. Those, combined with my gritty mental tenacity meant these slender young men were no match for me.
My bag remained under my own control...... just about. They did however point us thankfully in the direction of a bus. It was the only bus, and we had no real option but to get on it and see where we ended up.
The scenery was momentous though. Lush green rice terraces, every so often giving way to a slash of silver-blue sea, catching the sun like a mirror as it set, slowly turning the sky a deep blood-red. However dangerous this decision was, I already felt this bus journey was worth the about-turn alone. And seriously, where's the fun in following the path well-trodden? My stomach fluttered with excited anticipation at our trepidation.
My positivity faltered somewhat on arrival in
We tore ourselves away from the crowds of men loitering around offering us God knows what (let's go with taxi rides) and launched ourselves into the chaos. We could see our hostel across a crazy roundabout, there just seemed to be no safe way to get to it. In the end we plumped for making a mad dash, and before we knew it we'd been hauled into a police station by a nearby traffic warden. A stern ticking off later, we were both very well aware of the strict 'no jaywalking' laws in the
A little bit of research about the area we were in determined the only other place worth seeing (more rice terraces at Batad, near Banaue) was probably another two days journeying up roads even more death-defying and mountainous than that which we'd already travelled. We discussed the pros and cons at length but the Rough Guide’s words 'not for the faint-hearted' jumped off the page. Having worked solidly for three months on expedition and then driven approximately 6000 km through
Have you ever been somewhere which is almost too beautiful to believe it exists? Even when you're actually there? On arrival Boracay was cloudy, but when we awoke the next morning to glorious blue as far as the eye could see, the mesmerizing beauty of the island brought tears to my eyes. By day we slouched about on sand which could have passed for talcum powder, and by night we mooched from cafe to restaurant to bar, all cosily lit with jewel-coloured lanterns and golden twinkly fairy lights. It was a magical place.
Our favourite haunts quickly became 'Red Pirates Bar' handily located right next door to our accommodation (which incidentally cost us the budget-breaking amount of four pounds a night, between two of us - never let it be said you cannot do far-flung exotic on a budget). Rather excitingly it seemed to be run by actual pirates, making it all the more alluring. Here we were handed free margaritas (on account of us being female) and whiled away many a happy hour listening to funky chilled out house accompanied by live bongo drumming by the pirates. It achieved just the right mix of eclectic laid-back chic and understated cool, seemingly with no effort whatsoever. We loved it.
We also loved Bom Bom's Bar, and it is here, ladies that our real Boracay adventure took off. There we were one evening, reclining on the beanbags strewn across the oh-so-soft sand. Staring up at the startlingly clear starry night, being entertained by Art Strong, a lovely chap (actually a Red Pirate) with a sultry voice comparable with Finlay Quaye and sipping on chocolate rum (oh how I love thee) and all of a sudden a deep Louisian drawl startled us out of our individual reveries. 'Ladies, I don't suppose you would like to come join us for drinks?'
?
We didn't need asking twice! And so we met Travis and Stacy (logistics guys working out in
After talking well into the night we were invited on a trip to a waterfall the following day. As it was nearing 4am they suggested we pack up our day bags and head back to their beach house for what’s left of the night as we've an early start and they thought we might like breakfast with them before the off.
Giggling and swapping incredulous looks, we hastily threw random articles into our bags and walked the length of the beach in the shallows of the water (which, even by night is ridiculously turquoise) with Travis and Stacy. We gradually realised there was a marked difference between our end of the beach and theirs. Do not get me wrong, we had a nice little place - but as we progressed north, the accommodation got more and more exclusive, until we finally found ourselves standing in a very impressive bedroom with a huge bamboo four-poster bed, white-linen a go-go. As Travis and Stacy left us to it (we all agreed a couple of hours sleep were necessary to make the following day enjoyable), like small children Jane and I bounced up and down on the bed squealing like mental-cases. We could not believe our luck!
Breakfast took place at ‘Fridays Resort’ next door to their beach house, at the painfully early time of
The waterfall trip was incredible. We swam in crystal clear water, we ate fresh fish and chicken cooked on a bbq rigged up by our guides (or rather Travis and Stacy's personal guides). When we arrived back on Boracay they suggested we re-convened at Bom Bom's for more chocolate rum later that evening.
Well yessir, we'd love to!
Another lazy evening spent in the company of these two gentlemen which lasted well into the wee small hours and eventually Jane and I reluctantly headed back to our bare little budget room. We both agreed we'd had an awesome time with these guys and expected it to end right there.
At this point, things took a turn for the..... how shall I put it? Messy. I awoke at around
An hour or so later a confident american appeared at the door. Travis had taken it upon himself to call in at the pharmacy and bring all manner of medication associated with D&V for me. A quick glance around our room, which took all of a second considering its diminutive size, and Travis announced that this simply would not do, we were both to move to Robinson Beach House as soon as I could physically get there. And there we stayed for the rest of our time on Boracay.
Getting there wasn't the easiest, I was pathetically weak and moving was painful. Jane was a total star and managed to move all our stuff by tricycle down to the beach house, but even the ten minute journey sitting still took all my remaining energy, leaving me very poorly indeed by the time we arrived. All I could do was fall into bed and sweat profusely all over the pristine sheets. Sorry boys.
Jane looked worryingly at me from time to time as I elicited little whimpers from my death bed. We were both very aware that now out of the safety of the
Unbeknownst to me, whilst I was ill, I was booked into the Mandala Spa by Travis, to help accelerate my healing. An oasis of calm just off the bustling beach, I was treated to a four hour ‘Princess Package’ involving foot spa, pineapple and papaya body wrap, sea salt scrub, full body massage and facial.
We had to fight with Travis and Stacy on a daily basis to contribute financially to festivities, but they insisted on treating us to breakfasts of coconut waffles with syrup and pineapple, BBQ dinners of fresh fish with little home-made spring rolls, and delicious red wine at the Boracay steak house. If one of us lifted our hand to our eyes to shade them from the sun, we would be handed a pair of sunglasses. Before we even knew we needed something they were handing it to us. Our laundry was spirited away and brought back pristinely pressed. It was a surreal time, as we were supposed to be backpacking, yet here we were, living the life of Riley.
On our last day they chartered us a sailboat to take us right to the airport's door. We jumped aboard and each got handed a fresh banana milkshake. On the boat they plugged in my ipod with my favourite playlist, so hilariously as we're sailing past Borocay to the mainland, Keith Urban can be heard across the blue……………
Men like this only exist in films, don’t they?
Travis and Stacy are very special people. They work incredibly hard for around 42 weeks of the year in the sort of harsh environment that we usually only ever see on the news. They choose to then spend the rest of their year, together with the bulk of their money gadding about in paradise. They choose to share this with other people and welcome friends into their lives in a simple and trusting way. It was very beguiling. It was also hard to not feel as though you were taking advantage, but they honestly seemed to enjoy sharing their world with us.
Even our flight out of Caticlan back to
Ha-bloody-ha. We flew at 8500 feet!!!!! Most planes cruise at 30,000 ft explained Jane.
It was an awesome end to an awesome trip. Travis and Stacy - I will never forget you.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Kopi Susu
This is exciting...... it looks good. I have no idea whether anyone is actually going to read this, but it feels good writing it and that's the main thing for now.
Right now I am staying in a funny little hostel in KK (Kota Kinabalu). They probably think I'm weird as I spend an inordinate amount of time on the computer. So much so, that apparently now I qualify for free coffee. Let me just tell you about coffee in Sabah:
Kopi Susu (coffee with milk): A very rich, dark, strong coffee with an inch of syrupy, heart-stoppingly sweet condensed milk at the bottom.
Stir it up and you won't sleep for a week. They are big fans of sugar-based sustenance over here and I love them for it. Everywhere you go there is a bewildering array of cakes, biscuits and bread stuffed with sugary fillings. 'Dott's Egg Tarts' is my favourite at the moment, a little stall in Warisan Square, one of the large malls of KK. They sell just two things. Barbeque chicken puffs and little warm egg-custard tarts. One of each will set you back about 40p. Is it wrong to have exactly the same thing for lunch every day for over a week?
Oh who cares, it tastes amazing.
My new mantra is: 'Do What Makes You Happy'
A while ago, it was: 'Do What You Think You Probably Should or What Everyone Else Tells You, You Should' but Jane, best friend and travel partner convinced me otherwise. Damn it she's right too, it's been great ever since. If you don't follow your heart and do what feels right for you, then how can you be happy? I know its not necessarily quite that simple, and living a life of a wanderer is not exactly reality, my new mantra might have a hard time translating to life when I get home, but I still intend to use it as much as I can. I know I will never get this sort of time again, where I can just go where the wind blows me and believe me, I am grateful for every single second of it. Not a day goes by that I take for granted.
Right now I am staying in a funny little hostel in KK (Kota Kinabalu). They probably think I'm weird as I spend an inordinate amount of time on the computer. So much so, that apparently now I qualify for free coffee. Let me just tell you about coffee in Sabah:
Kopi Susu (coffee with milk): A very rich, dark, strong coffee with an inch of syrupy, heart-stoppingly sweet condensed milk at the bottom.
Stir it up and you won't sleep for a week. They are big fans of sugar-based sustenance over here and I love them for it. Everywhere you go there is a bewildering array of cakes, biscuits and bread stuffed with sugary fillings. 'Dott's Egg Tarts' is my favourite at the moment, a little stall in Warisan Square, one of the large malls of KK. They sell just two things. Barbeque chicken puffs and little warm egg-custard tarts. One of each will set you back about 40p. Is it wrong to have exactly the same thing for lunch every day for over a week?
Oh who cares, it tastes amazing.
My new mantra is: 'Do What Makes You Happy'
A while ago, it was: 'Do What You Think You Probably Should or What Everyone Else Tells You, You Should' but Jane, best friend and travel partner convinced me otherwise. Damn it she's right too, it's been great ever since. If you don't follow your heart and do what feels right for you, then how can you be happy? I know its not necessarily quite that simple, and living a life of a wanderer is not exactly reality, my new mantra might have a hard time translating to life when I get home, but I still intend to use it as much as I can. I know I will never get this sort of time again, where I can just go where the wind blows me and believe me, I am grateful for every single second of it. Not a day goes by that I take for granted.
The First Post - Wednesday 13th February
So, this is it - a blog. Blog-tastic.
I am not entirely sure about this caper, but for now I seem to have endless words flowing from brain through my arm onto paper so I thought I'd miss out the middle man and whack it directly onto the great t'interweb.
I'll probably wish I'd started this earlier, as right now my adventuring has relaxed somewhat, yet I currently have a very pleasing amount of time to reflect on what I have just been through and psych myself for my next adventure - namely a mammoth journey from Borneo to home in the good old U of K, via Australia, New Zealand and Fiji.
A quick recap of my itinerary to date:
Singapore
Peninsular Malaysia (including KL, Langkawi and Perenthian Island Kecil)
Sabah, Borneo
Australia
Philippines (including Baguio, Manila, Boracay)
Sabah, Borneo
STA Travel quite specifically indicated that my next step after Australia should have been New Zealand. And no doubt plenty of you out there will be shocked that I have cut this glorious country out of my journey, well squashed it to a mere 24 hour stop-over in Auckland. I'm sorry kiwis of the world, but quite simply I fell madly in love with Malaysia after working in Borneo for 3 months on an Eco Lodge and the lure of returning whilst I was 'in the area' eventually became too much to bear. Hence my travel partner (best friend, Jane) and I split up (the split was very amicable, she had a burning desire for NZ, me for Sabah) and we will reunite, no doubt emotionally at Auckland airport where we will waste no time in getting ourselves to Fiji, as dictated by our plane tickets.
So, as I said, possible mental instability made us change our travel plans and back-track from Australia to Malysia, where I showed Jane what all the fuss was about. Both of us had completed a Raleigh International expedition at the end of last year (www.raleighinternational.org.uk). Jane's was in Costa Rica and mine in Sabah. Raleigh is a registered charity - part adventure facilitator, part youth development. They sign up both well-off and disadvantaged young adults including international and host-country participants (aged 17-24) and take on scared staff (mainly Brits aged 25 plus) to act as youth developers/leaders to ensure the projects are safe and meaningful for the young adults in question.
I was a Project Manager working in on an Eco Lodge in a tiny village called Mengaris, district of Batu Puteh, Kinabatangan area of Sabah. This Eco Lodge is not only exceptionally beautiful, but it forms an important part of the goals for ecologically sustainable tourism in the Kinabatangan area, and is being built by the local group named MESCOT.
In 1996 the MESCOT Initiative was started by a group of about 30 visionary and dedicated individuals from the different villages of Batu Puteh (of which Mengaris is one of them) to create an alternative medium of income generation for the people of the area, while in the process of protecting the last remaining vestige of rainforest and traditional indigenous cultural heritage.
The driving force behind this unique project is a dynamic Australian named Martin 'Danger' Vogel (quite literally one of the most inspiring people I've ever met in my life). His passion, energy and sheer determination is pushing the project towards completion, and he is responsible for the very close links with Raleigh, who provide a lot of the labour force.
When I first met Martin, I'll be honest, I was pretty intimidated. As I eyed him up and down I got the distinct impression that our working relationship might not be an easy one. We were from very different worlds. Unsurprisingly, as our first night in Raleigh camp just outside Mengaris played out, I realised I wasn't wrong.
Our initial task before we even started work on the Eco Lodge was to get our jetty into the river so that we may wash. Yes, for three months I washed my hair in brown river water and dodged the crocs as best I could. My hair took on an alarmingly wild appearance and stiff texture, yet I count myself lucky that I wasn't plucked from the bank by a large reptile, so all was well. I could always shave it all off and start again.
Getting the jetty into the water was by no means an easy task. It was thoroughly wedged in deep, wet mud - high on the river bank. My team (Alpha 2) was buoyed up by Martin's enthusiasm, and being a largely male dominated group they were all trying to impress him. Imbued with male bravado and the high spirited energy of youth, they trekked into the woods to chop down large logs in order to try and roll the jetty down the bank. They larked about waist deep in mud pushing and heaving at the jetty to get it floating. They splashed about in the river pulling the jetty into place.
It was day one of Phase One, and we were taking a Raleigh Rule (a 'non-negotiable' to boot) and stomping all over it. All the participants were in the water, up to their necks, there for the taking by a croc. I, was jumping about on the river bank, having an anxiety attack. This, combined with dehydration and the searing heat resulted in a migraine and Bev, my fellow Project manager had to put me to bed (I say bed, I mean hammock).
Petrified I think is the word I'd use. I've always been a bit of a stickler for rules, and I could not cope with having to explain to our Country Director that on Day 1 I let a situation unfold which resulted in a participant getting snatched by a crocodile. Of course, Martin knew the water and had the situation under control , yet I felt very out of my depth and very out of control, so my body basically shut down and refused to deal with it.
It was a scary time, and I awoke the following morning worried about whether I would be able to cope with this expedition.
The next day I had an awkward chat with Martin. He thought I didn't trust him, I thought he was crazy. It wasn't the best of starts, and there seemed to be an element of 'control' competition in the air, yet obviously I backed down. What did I know? I used to run tennis tournaments, Martin had been working in this country for 17 years, and this project for 10. He knew exactly what he was doing. Thankfully we proceeded to get on spectacularly well and our friendship and working relationship blossomed, based on trust and mutual respect. What I have learnt from him, I feel ridiculously grateful for.
Quickly I began to feel the way Alpha 2 did trying to get that jetty in the water. He made me want to work harder than I ever had done in my life. He lit a fire inside me which smouldered at first, then crackled and raged, and I forgot all the thoery about what I was supposed to say, do, feel. I just did.
The work, the participants, the villagers, they became my reason for existing. And I got very used to a happy and simple existence where all I needed was energy and a parang (1 3 foot long machete).
My journey to work was a stunning twenty minute boat ride up the Kinabatangan river. On a daily basis we would watch proboscis monkeys gadding about and large crocs slipping into the murky depths. Various species of horn bill glided above, startlingly blue kingfishers zipped by our boat. Not a single day went by without me thanking my lucky stars for what I was seeing.
One day at the Lodge there was great excitement. 'ORANGUTAN....ORANGUTAN' came the shouts. We'd had a numbingly hard day wheel-barrowing heavy sand bags which would be used to form pathways to the sleeping chalets as part of the Lodge's accommodation. Exhausted, we ran towards the shouting and the pointing. Everyone fell still. I looked up, and stared into the eyes of a mother orangutan clutching her baby. As we held each others gaze, aknowledging each other's presence, emotion overcame me. Tom, another PM who had joined us for Phase 2 just held me close in a hug. It was a very special moment.
You see, I've started this blog and now I want to try and get every experience down. I'm typing fast and don't know if the story is flowing? I suppose that, as days go on I will just weave the memories into the text. Each day I wonder whether the Raleigh experience has touched other Project Managers as it seems to have done for me. Maybe, maybe not. Religion does not play a big part in my life, but I have actually on more than one occasion thanked God for the forces which came together to give me the opportunity to do it.
It has been, quite frankly, the experience of a lifetime.
I did, quite frankly, have the time of my life.
It gave me confidence like I've never known before and taught me invaluable lessons in patience, tolerance and truly being selfless. Anyone stuck at a cross-roads and wondering whether to jack it all in and go adventuring, I could not recommend this type of thing enough. Cliched as it may sound, you learn a lot about yourself and you meet some exquisitely unique people.
I think maybe at this point I'm just going to explain the structure of a Raleigh Expedition.
Malaysia Autumn 2007 saw around 70 young adults taking part - THE PARTICIPANTS (affectionately known as 'The Parps').
Expedition is split into three phases, each phase lasting three weeks:
1) Adventure Phase
2) Community Phase
3) Environmental Phase
As part of the adventure phase, they learn to dive (obtaining a PADI qualification), they trek for a week and then they climb Mount Kinabalu - 4,095 metres (13,435 ft) of exhausting challenge.
There were two community phases:
1) Building a gravity water feed system in Kampong Ambong, an hour outside Kota Kinabalu, capital of Sabah.
2) Work on the Eco Lodge, on the edge of Tungog lake in Batu Puteh, Kinabatangan.
Then there were two environmental phases:
1) Danum Valley
2) Imbak Canyon
Every parp gets to do the adventure phase, one community phase and one environmental phase. Hence every three weeks myself and Bev received a new rotation of ten parps, who we tried to instill with as much enthusiasm as we had for working on the Eco Lodge. Daily life was a crazy whirl of hardcore labouring, whilst trying to remain upbeat and enthused to motivate the entire team. I have never dug quite so deep - both literally and figuratively. There were times when I actually cried with exhaustion.
Before expedition I trained a lot to try and prepare as best I could. Having trained for two Marathons I was no stranger to hard physical toil and the mental battle required to overcome situations when you are wet, cold, broken and yet still need to run on. So in the month leading up to the off, I joined a fabulous gym in Bristol and I ran, cycled, lifted weights, did classes. I pushed myself and then I pushed myself some more. Yet, nothing could really prepare me for the physical demands of working on the Eco Lodge, apart from maybe getting a job on a building site.
We carried iron wood four by fours up a very steep hill, in the midday sun and sapping humidity. We dug a 15m x 10m reed bed which every morning needed bailing out for two hours as the rain filled it up overnight.
We filled 1000 bags with sand, and carried them to the Lodge, laying them out and then stomping them flat with iron wood planks.
We moved 12 tonnes of palm kernels (one of the by-products of the Palm Oil industry) from Mengaris, by boat, to the Lodge.
We planted 1600 Durian trees as part of MESCOT's re-forestation project, which sits alongside the Eco Lodge project.
We heaved, we lifted, we carried, we dug, we pushed, we pulled and we wheel-barrowed.
It was intense, dirty, back breaking work. My abs and guns have never been so pronounced, my ability to overcome exhaustion and smile in the face of adversity, never so strong.
My confidence to sing loudly and act like an idiot, just to get the team through the day, never so surprising. One specific memory still has startling clarity. We were on maybe day 8 or so of digging the reed bed. This was to be a key component of the decomposting toilet system, when the hole is finally lined (still waiting for funding for this), reeds will be planted and the waste from the toilets will be pumped through septic tanks initially, then the dirty water filtered through reeds, and recycled. We had been digging for days, and every morning we had to bucket out all the water which had fallen over night in the Monsoon. It felt like a never-ending job, spirits were beginning to flag severely.
I was knackered, I couldn't be bothered. The mosquitoes were out in force and launching themselves at me with a determination I could only dream off. I was hot, sweating, dirty, itching; I wanted out. I looked at Alpha 2, my vibe was rubbing off on them. They were disheartened and unhappy. I took a very deep breath and started to sing:
'Here ya come agaaaaain, lookin' better than a body has a right too....' I looked up at Kirsty, a wonderful young aussie, particularly fond of Dolly Parton classics, in fact we'd bondly tightly over our mutual love of country rock music. She grinned at me and joined in:
'JUST WHEN I'D BEGUN TO GET MYSELF TO-GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETHER, YOU WALK BACK IN THE DOOR, JUST LIKE YOU DID BEFORE AND WRAP MY HEART AROUND YOUR LITTLE FI-INGER...................................................................................................................'
The others rolled their eyes, and one by one, joined in right with us. We proceeded to have possibly the best working day of that phase.
Sometimes all it does take is a bit of country music, so HA! to all those who ridicule me for liking it :).
That day, it saved us. In fact Alpha 2, Phase One were pretty incredible - they finished that reed bed in under two weeks, when Rosli (head of MESCOT) had predicted it might take us all three phases.
At this stage I am just going to list all the parps I had in each phase - just for posterity.
Phase 1 - Alpha 2 (aka. Alpha Tom)
Fairy Tom (Tom Rhodes)
Red Tom (Tom Jackson)
Big Tom (Tom Dixon)
Kirsty Harrison
Jess Haberley
Maddie Jacobs
Dave 'Culture' Bywaters
Ishen Amara
Bradley Prince
Josh Pearson
Phase 2 - Alpha 2 (aka. Alpha Jungle Work-Out)
Palmer di Peyster
Carly Wallace
Francesca Jackson
Ryan
Chloe Bird
Suzanne Rooney
Rony
Lois Allen
Joe Kingston-Lee
Yusif
Phase 3 - Alpha 2 (aka. Alpha Beefcake)
Jonny Shearman
Jo Loveridge
Kirstyanne Rung (Frizz)
Meex
Ibrahim MacKenzie (Ibs, Ibalocious)
Gilles Louwerens
Zoe Sweeney
Ben Vicarey
Stuart Tinner
Jun Pang
Righto, think I'm gonna post all this now - see what it looks like. There is more to tell, but the night is yet young...............
I am not entirely sure about this caper, but for now I seem to have endless words flowing from brain through my arm onto paper so I thought I'd miss out the middle man and whack it directly onto the great t'interweb.
I'll probably wish I'd started this earlier, as right now my adventuring has relaxed somewhat, yet I currently have a very pleasing amount of time to reflect on what I have just been through and psych myself for my next adventure - namely a mammoth journey from Borneo to home in the good old U of K, via Australia, New Zealand and Fiji.
A quick recap of my itinerary to date:
Singapore
Peninsular Malaysia (including KL, Langkawi and Perenthian Island Kecil)
Sabah, Borneo
Australia
Philippines (including Baguio, Manila, Boracay)
Sabah, Borneo
STA Travel quite specifically indicated that my next step after Australia should have been New Zealand. And no doubt plenty of you out there will be shocked that I have cut this glorious country out of my journey, well squashed it to a mere 24 hour stop-over in Auckland. I'm sorry kiwis of the world, but quite simply I fell madly in love with Malaysia after working in Borneo for 3 months on an Eco Lodge and the lure of returning whilst I was 'in the area' eventually became too much to bear. Hence my travel partner (best friend, Jane) and I split up (the split was very amicable, she had a burning desire for NZ, me for Sabah) and we will reunite, no doubt emotionally at Auckland airport where we will waste no time in getting ourselves to Fiji, as dictated by our plane tickets.
So, as I said, possible mental instability made us change our travel plans and back-track from Australia to Malysia, where I showed Jane what all the fuss was about. Both of us had completed a Raleigh International expedition at the end of last year (www.raleighinternational.org.uk). Jane's was in Costa Rica and mine in Sabah. Raleigh is a registered charity - part adventure facilitator, part youth development. They sign up both well-off and disadvantaged young adults including international and host-country participants (aged 17-24) and take on scared staff (mainly Brits aged 25 plus) to act as youth developers/leaders to ensure the projects are safe and meaningful for the young adults in question.
I was a Project Manager working in on an Eco Lodge in a tiny village called Mengaris, district of Batu Puteh, Kinabatangan area of Sabah. This Eco Lodge is not only exceptionally beautiful, but it forms an important part of the goals for ecologically sustainable tourism in the Kinabatangan area, and is being built by the local group named MESCOT.
In 1996 the MESCOT Initiative was started by a group of about 30 visionary and dedicated individuals from the different villages of Batu Puteh (of which Mengaris is one of them) to create an alternative medium of income generation for the people of the area, while in the process of protecting the last remaining vestige of rainforest and traditional indigenous cultural heritage.
The driving force behind this unique project is a dynamic Australian named Martin 'Danger' Vogel (quite literally one of the most inspiring people I've ever met in my life). His passion, energy and sheer determination is pushing the project towards completion, and he is responsible for the very close links with Raleigh, who provide a lot of the labour force.
When I first met Martin, I'll be honest, I was pretty intimidated. As I eyed him up and down I got the distinct impression that our working relationship might not be an easy one. We were from very different worlds. Unsurprisingly, as our first night in Raleigh camp just outside Mengaris played out, I realised I wasn't wrong.
Our initial task before we even started work on the Eco Lodge was to get our jetty into the river so that we may wash. Yes, for three months I washed my hair in brown river water and dodged the crocs as best I could. My hair took on an alarmingly wild appearance and stiff texture, yet I count myself lucky that I wasn't plucked from the bank by a large reptile, so all was well. I could always shave it all off and start again.
Getting the jetty into the water was by no means an easy task. It was thoroughly wedged in deep, wet mud - high on the river bank. My team (Alpha 2) was buoyed up by Martin's enthusiasm, and being a largely male dominated group they were all trying to impress him. Imbued with male bravado and the high spirited energy of youth, they trekked into the woods to chop down large logs in order to try and roll the jetty down the bank. They larked about waist deep in mud pushing and heaving at the jetty to get it floating. They splashed about in the river pulling the jetty into place.
It was day one of Phase One, and we were taking a Raleigh Rule (a 'non-negotiable' to boot) and stomping all over it. All the participants were in the water, up to their necks, there for the taking by a croc. I, was jumping about on the river bank, having an anxiety attack. This, combined with dehydration and the searing heat resulted in a migraine and Bev, my fellow Project manager had to put me to bed (I say bed, I mean hammock).
Petrified I think is the word I'd use. I've always been a bit of a stickler for rules, and I could not cope with having to explain to our Country Director that on Day 1 I let a situation unfold which resulted in a participant getting snatched by a crocodile. Of course, Martin knew the water and had the situation under control , yet I felt very out of my depth and very out of control, so my body basically shut down and refused to deal with it.
It was a scary time, and I awoke the following morning worried about whether I would be able to cope with this expedition.
The next day I had an awkward chat with Martin. He thought I didn't trust him, I thought he was crazy. It wasn't the best of starts, and there seemed to be an element of 'control' competition in the air, yet obviously I backed down. What did I know? I used to run tennis tournaments, Martin had been working in this country for 17 years, and this project for 10. He knew exactly what he was doing. Thankfully we proceeded to get on spectacularly well and our friendship and working relationship blossomed, based on trust and mutual respect. What I have learnt from him, I feel ridiculously grateful for.
Quickly I began to feel the way Alpha 2 did trying to get that jetty in the water. He made me want to work harder than I ever had done in my life. He lit a fire inside me which smouldered at first, then crackled and raged, and I forgot all the thoery about what I was supposed to say, do, feel. I just did.
The work, the participants, the villagers, they became my reason for existing. And I got very used to a happy and simple existence where all I needed was energy and a parang (1 3 foot long machete).
My journey to work was a stunning twenty minute boat ride up the Kinabatangan river. On a daily basis we would watch proboscis monkeys gadding about and large crocs slipping into the murky depths. Various species of horn bill glided above, startlingly blue kingfishers zipped by our boat. Not a single day went by without me thanking my lucky stars for what I was seeing.
One day at the Lodge there was great excitement. 'ORANGUTAN....ORANGUTAN' came the shouts. We'd had a numbingly hard day wheel-barrowing heavy sand bags which would be used to form pathways to the sleeping chalets as part of the Lodge's accommodation. Exhausted, we ran towards the shouting and the pointing. Everyone fell still. I looked up, and stared into the eyes of a mother orangutan clutching her baby. As we held each others gaze, aknowledging each other's presence, emotion overcame me. Tom, another PM who had joined us for Phase 2 just held me close in a hug. It was a very special moment.
You see, I've started this blog and now I want to try and get every experience down. I'm typing fast and don't know if the story is flowing? I suppose that, as days go on I will just weave the memories into the text. Each day I wonder whether the Raleigh experience has touched other Project Managers as it seems to have done for me. Maybe, maybe not. Religion does not play a big part in my life, but I have actually on more than one occasion thanked God for the forces which came together to give me the opportunity to do it.
It has been, quite frankly, the experience of a lifetime.
I did, quite frankly, have the time of my life.
It gave me confidence like I've never known before and taught me invaluable lessons in patience, tolerance and truly being selfless. Anyone stuck at a cross-roads and wondering whether to jack it all in and go adventuring, I could not recommend this type of thing enough. Cliched as it may sound, you learn a lot about yourself and you meet some exquisitely unique people.
I think maybe at this point I'm just going to explain the structure of a Raleigh Expedition.
Malaysia Autumn 2007 saw around 70 young adults taking part - THE PARTICIPANTS (affectionately known as 'The Parps').
Expedition is split into three phases, each phase lasting three weeks:
1) Adventure Phase
2) Community Phase
3) Environmental Phase
As part of the adventure phase, they learn to dive (obtaining a PADI qualification), they trek for a week and then they climb Mount Kinabalu - 4,095 metres (13,435 ft) of exhausting challenge.
There were two community phases:
1) Building a gravity water feed system in Kampong Ambong, an hour outside Kota Kinabalu, capital of Sabah.
2) Work on the Eco Lodge, on the edge of Tungog lake in Batu Puteh, Kinabatangan.
Then there were two environmental phases:
1) Danum Valley
2) Imbak Canyon
Every parp gets to do the adventure phase, one community phase and one environmental phase. Hence every three weeks myself and Bev received a new rotation of ten parps, who we tried to instill with as much enthusiasm as we had for working on the Eco Lodge. Daily life was a crazy whirl of hardcore labouring, whilst trying to remain upbeat and enthused to motivate the entire team. I have never dug quite so deep - both literally and figuratively. There were times when I actually cried with exhaustion.
Before expedition I trained a lot to try and prepare as best I could. Having trained for two Marathons I was no stranger to hard physical toil and the mental battle required to overcome situations when you are wet, cold, broken and yet still need to run on. So in the month leading up to the off, I joined a fabulous gym in Bristol and I ran, cycled, lifted weights, did classes. I pushed myself and then I pushed myself some more. Yet, nothing could really prepare me for the physical demands of working on the Eco Lodge, apart from maybe getting a job on a building site.
We carried iron wood four by fours up a very steep hill, in the midday sun and sapping humidity. We dug a 15m x 10m reed bed which every morning needed bailing out for two hours as the rain filled it up overnight.
We filled 1000 bags with sand, and carried them to the Lodge, laying them out and then stomping them flat with iron wood planks.
We moved 12 tonnes of palm kernels (one of the by-products of the Palm Oil industry) from Mengaris, by boat, to the Lodge.
We planted 1600 Durian trees as part of MESCOT's re-forestation project, which sits alongside the Eco Lodge project.
We heaved, we lifted, we carried, we dug, we pushed, we pulled and we wheel-barrowed.
It was intense, dirty, back breaking work. My abs and guns have never been so pronounced, my ability to overcome exhaustion and smile in the face of adversity, never so strong.
My confidence to sing loudly and act like an idiot, just to get the team through the day, never so surprising. One specific memory still has startling clarity. We were on maybe day 8 or so of digging the reed bed. This was to be a key component of the decomposting toilet system, when the hole is finally lined (still waiting for funding for this), reeds will be planted and the waste from the toilets will be pumped through septic tanks initially, then the dirty water filtered through reeds, and recycled. We had been digging for days, and every morning we had to bucket out all the water which had fallen over night in the Monsoon. It felt like a never-ending job, spirits were beginning to flag severely.
I was knackered, I couldn't be bothered. The mosquitoes were out in force and launching themselves at me with a determination I could only dream off. I was hot, sweating, dirty, itching; I wanted out. I looked at Alpha 2, my vibe was rubbing off on them. They were disheartened and unhappy. I took a very deep breath and started to sing:
'Here ya come agaaaaain, lookin' better than a body has a right too....' I looked up at Kirsty, a wonderful young aussie, particularly fond of Dolly Parton classics, in fact we'd bondly tightly over our mutual love of country rock music. She grinned at me and joined in:
'JUST WHEN I'D BEGUN TO GET MYSELF TO-GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETHER, YOU WALK BACK IN THE DOOR, JUST LIKE YOU DID BEFORE AND WRAP MY HEART AROUND YOUR LITTLE FI-INGER...................................................................................................................'
The others rolled their eyes, and one by one, joined in right with us. We proceeded to have possibly the best working day of that phase.
Sometimes all it does take is a bit of country music, so HA! to all those who ridicule me for liking it :).
That day, it saved us. In fact Alpha 2, Phase One were pretty incredible - they finished that reed bed in under two weeks, when Rosli (head of MESCOT) had predicted it might take us all three phases.
At this stage I am just going to list all the parps I had in each phase - just for posterity.
Phase 1 - Alpha 2 (aka. Alpha Tom)
Fairy Tom (Tom Rhodes)
Red Tom (Tom Jackson)
Big Tom (Tom Dixon)
Kirsty Harrison
Jess Haberley
Maddie Jacobs
Dave 'Culture' Bywaters
Ishen Amara
Bradley Prince
Josh Pearson
Phase 2 - Alpha 2 (aka. Alpha Jungle Work-Out)
Palmer di Peyster
Carly Wallace
Francesca Jackson
Ryan
Chloe Bird
Suzanne Rooney
Rony
Lois Allen
Joe Kingston-Lee
Yusif
Phase 3 - Alpha 2 (aka. Alpha Beefcake)
Jonny Shearman
Jo Loveridge
Kirstyanne Rung (Frizz)
Meex
Ibrahim MacKenzie (Ibs, Ibalocious)
Gilles Louwerens
Zoe Sweeney
Ben Vicarey
Stuart Tinner
Jun Pang
Righto, think I'm gonna post all this now - see what it looks like. There is more to tell, but the night is yet young...............
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