Sarawak - Page 9

Have you every wondered what life was like in Sarawak over a hundred years ago?

Thanks to a contributing writer of The Sarawak Gazette in 1948 who wrote under the initials ‘O.F’, we had a glimpse of old Sarawak through his writing.

So here is the author’s account of what it was like living in Sarawak in 1912:

“Sarawak in 1912 was enjoying the end of its heydays. The last great war had been the affair in South Africa, and bar a Melanau policeman we all called Lord Kitchener on account of his moustache, and a gentleman who after a gin or two loved telling us about the joys of the Base at Cape Town, that campaign had left no visible mark on the country.

Cadets came out on a hundred dollars a month and the five years furlough was a thing recent memory. One of my first outstation acquaintances was just about to go home after a full ten years service. He looked extremely healthy and I am certain that he did not have an electrolux either.

The whole European Civil Service numbered less than fifty, of which about twenty one were in outstations, the same number in Kuching and the rest or knocking about somewhere. Except for the staff of the two Government collieries there were no Departmental officers outside Kuching.

There was no wireless, no electric light (except, I think, in Bau) but one motorcar, no buses, no cocktail parties and no slap-and-tickle dancing.

Those ladies who wore European dress would not have been seen dead in the street without a monster hat or topi; those who wore Malay dress covered their shy heads with gay sarongs and veils; only the older Chinese women were ever seen in public.

Lofty masted schooners lay in the creek off Sibu Maleng. The Second Division was served by sailing bandongs, propelled up the rivers by the crew sweating at the sweeps; steam vessels and launches laboriously pounded along with sparks sometimes flying from the funnel from the wood fuel.

In Kuching Lee Wai Heng made us good white suits for three dollars sixty and a khaki one was four dollars and a half. Hap Shin would make white canvas shoes for a dollar twenty. Syn Hin Leong, Chong Kim Eng and Ban Jui Long had good whisky at under a dollar a bottle for the same sum you could get nearly three tins of cigarettes. If you went the right way about it it was possible to charter a smart rickshaw to take you to and from the office every day, and a few odd extra trips thrown in, for fifteen dollars a month you could send all the washing you liked to a dhobie for a monthly payment of four dollars.

Sebah, known to everyone, brought round real kain tenun for a couple of dollars a piece, and she was a pleasant company too. Good gold, as pure as one could wish for, could be bought over the counter from Kong Chan for a bit over four and a half dollars an amas, real gold sovereigns about nine dollars, half a quid for four fifty and a real whopper of an American gold piece for about seventeen dollars. Belts made of silver dollars cost their face value plus an equal amount for labour. Every year the pawn farmers used to melt down the unredeemed gold, and I have handled lumps of the stuff.

In Singapore the police arrested Sarawak Dayaks for walking around Raffles Place in a chawat, cables were received from England and Singapore via Labuan, the festival of chap goh meh was the only time one saw Chinese girls, and the idea of ‘Women’s Day’ or processions of gaily clad members of Kaum Ibu was a thing which no man, brown, yellow or white, could dream of.

Once a year, hordes of little Malay boys went over to the Astana to eat the Rajah’s curry, and on New Year’s Day there was a monster regatta. Tuba fishing were always great occasions. In outstations everyone nearby took a holiday. Government servants included, and even if the catches were hot often great the fun was. Most of the tuba was secreted for private fishing up small streams the next day.

In Limbang they raced buffaloes, and in Sibu we spent half the landas roaming about in small boats. When the officers in Mukah and Oya got bored they went pukat fishing with the police and prisoners. In Bintulu they went to Kedurong (Kidurong) to catch rock cod and cast a jala.

Sarawak Rangers paraded with snider rifles and sword bayonets; at headquarters they still exercised in ‘form hollow square to receive cavalry!’ The Rajah’s yacht ‘Zalora’ lay off Kuching with a three-pounder hotchkiss mounted on the forecastle.

Up in the outstations administrators and people lived a feudal but by no means an uncolourful life. Now and again a headhunting foray lived up things, occasionally Chinese gang robbers threw pepper in travelers’ eyes and got away with the spoils. A sporting District Officer, out after snipe, was gored by an angry buffalo. In Limbang an unhappy Chinese tried to commit hara kiri and was saved and lived happily ever after by the efforts of the Resident and his assistant who pushed in his entrails, sewed him up and then gave him a good shaking to get them into place.

One or two small motor boats were introduced at this time and the Malays, ever quick to catch on to a good nickname, called them by a most expressive word. Rajah Brooke drove around Kuching in a wagonette, or sometimes a governess cart; the manager of the Borneo Company had a dashing dog cart. Silk-hatted gentlemen went to Church on Sunday evenings and bottle-green tails appeared at Astana functions.

No one seemed to have much money; in any cases few of the merchants seemed to use it. For raw sago the Kuching towkays sent up cargoes of tobacco, cloth, pots and pans, hurricane lamps, braces and sock suspenders and Dr Williams Pink Pills.

The State was not run on orthodox lines, and I suppose that some modern thinkers would say that it was sheer autocracy, oligarchy and despotic benevolence, and of course so it was. It was run very well. But it could not have gone on much longer. The first world war shook it a bit but left the foundations cracked but standing. The second world war finished it off.”

Curiosity for Sarawak in 1912

Obviously, there are huge changes between Sarawak in 1912 and the present.

Even though we still see ladies wearing ‘European dress’ today, they no longer pair their outfits with a ‘monster hat’.

Speaking of clothing, you will never find ‘good white suits for three dollars sixty and a khaki one for four dollars’ anywhere in this world, let alone in Kuching.

While we still have cobblers to repair our footwear, nobody would make white canvas shoes today.

Furthermore, it would be nice to have a bottle of whisky under a dollar right now.

Thanks to O.F, we now know the modus operandi of 1912 Sarawak robbers. Who knew Sarawak pepper had its criminal usage?

Plus, who knew Residents back then had the surgical skill to rescue someone who committed harakiri? Can you imagine the effort they took in 1912 to push someone’s entrails back into their abdomen and stitch them back together again?

For those who are curious, the medicine stated in the article is Dr Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People.

It contained ferrous sulfate and magnesium sulfate and it was claimed to cure chorea.You will never find it today because it was withdrawn from the market in the 1970s.

Finally, it would be interesting to know if the descendants of those O.F. mentioned in his article are still alive today

About 100 years ago, an article was published in The National Geographic Magazine about Sarawak.

The article ‘Sarawak: Land of the White Rajahs’ was written by Harrison W. Smith and published in February 1919.

Smith basically described his experience in Sarawak mingling with the Iban, Bidayuh and Kayan peoples in the 58-page long article featuring a whopping 59 photographs taken by Smith himself.

It was written in a non-condescending and enlightening tone to introduce Sarawak to National Geographic readers.

The Sarawak Gazette even published a note on July 16, 1919 to comment about the article and the only problem they had about it was the use of an outdated map.

It stated, “The article gives an interesting account of Professor Smith’s experience in this country and is illustrated, as might be expected, by photographs, excellent in themselves and in their variety.

“The map for which Professor Smith denies all responsibility is another matter; in any paper it would be a matter for regret, but in a magazine whose professed object is ‘the increase and diffusion of geographic knowledge’ it calls for both criticism and correction. This map, taken apparently from a thirty year old school atlas, shows near the whole of Borneo, about which the Sarawak boundary wanders in pleasing uncertainty. The whole of state of Brunei is included therein and Labuan disappears entirely.”

Nonetheless, here are five interesting Sarawak stories that Smith experienced when he was in Sarawak:

1.A phonograph in Sarawak

“A phonograph that I carried for the purpose of recording native songs was a source of great amusement. Many natives who had traveled to the government stations had heard the ordinary records, but none had ever heard their own language.

It was at times difficult to persuade any one to sing into the rather formidable looking trumpet, but when a song had been reproduced from a record made at another village there was usually no further difficulty in bringing forward of the artists of the house.

When they finally they heard their own voices issuing from the little box, their wonder and amusement knew no bounds. It is a pity no photograph could have been obtained of the bank of faces surrounding our little party, with the phonograph in the center, when they first realised that a box was talking their own language in the voice of one of their own number.”

2.Counting using fingers and toes

One of Smith’s companions was an Iban man named Changkok. On one occasion, Smith had to ask Changkok about a longhouse they about to visit.

“Having occasion to ask Changkok the size of a particular house that I planned to visit, he began counting on the fingers of his right hand, calling off the name of the head of each family. He continued counting on the fingers of his left hand, then on the toes of his right foot, then, beginning on the big toe of his left foot, he paused in thought, holding the second toe.

But the effort had been too much; he lost hold of the toe and had to count all over again.

Probably if the problem had required a computation above 20 Changkok, like many other natives, would have had to call in another man with more fingers and toes to count on.”

3.Sarawakians have heard about the Titanic a hundred years ago

Smith spent a great deal of time at Mulu area. One time, he was spending a night at the house of a Malay trader near Melinau river.

“The trader had fastened some logs together and moored them to the shore, forming a small landing stage with a little shed, where one could bathe without danger from crocodiles.

As the launch swung in toward the landing, the current caught the bow, and for a moment it seemed that we should strike the log with considerable force; whereupon a Malay on the landing cried out, ‘Don’t run into the iceberg.’ Thus the story of the Titanic, incredible to the tropical people, spread far into Borneo.”

Titanic sank in the North Atlantic Ocean on Apr 15, 1912.

4.The female Kayan leader of Long Palei

While female presidents fascinate people nowadays because they are rare, female Kayan chieftains were not something unusual even back in Smith’s day.

Even back then, a Kayan woman could rule a longhouse as long as she came from an aristocratic family (maren).

Smith had the opportunity to meet a woman Kayan chief named Ulau when he was visiting Long Palei (Long Palai), Baram.

“The dignified presence and stateliness of the old lady gave me one of the greatest surprises I ever experienced. She maintains rigid discipline, which is characteristic of the Kayan household, from the chief of the house to the head of the family, and the fruits of discipline are apparent in the good manners and recognition of authority that, more than anything else, astonish the visitor, who is not prepared to find such culture among Bornean ‘savages’”.

5.Trying to teach geography to a Kayan

Ulau had a stepson named Kebing who later became one of Smith’s companions during his journey.

While learning about the local culture, Smith in return taught the natives some knowledge of geography and a taste of astronomy and the sun’s orbit.

“In an effort to give Kebing some idea of geography, I told him it was possible to go to America by travelling either in the direction in which the sun rises or the direction in which it sets, and to explain this incredible statement I scratched a map on the surface of a green orange, telling him that the sun stands still and the earth turns around.

‘Once every day?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ I replied.

‘Well, why does it turn?’ A rather difficult question.”

A film, called The Raven, was banned in Miri, as being “purely morbid and gruesome.”

That was the the description that was published in The Sarawak Gazette on July 1, 1937.

So what was so morbid and gruesome about the movie that it was banned? Plus, where did Mirians watch movies back in the 1930s?

About The Raven (1935)

The Raven was the last film in the 1930s Universal Pictures Edgar Allan Poe trilogy, after the previous adaptations of Murders in the Rue Morgue and The Black Cat.

It is based on Poe’s 1845 poem The Raven.

The story follows Dr Richard Vollin (portrayed by Bela Lugosi, who played the first Count Dracula on film) who is obsessed with all things related to Poe. If only he was obsessed with normal merchandise such as T-shirts, mugs or socks, but nope…Dr Vollin was passionate in making torture devices inspired by Poe’s works.

When Jean Thatcher (Irene Ware) is injured in a car accident, her father Judge Thatcher (Samual S. Hinds) and boyfriend Jerry (Lester Matthews) ask Dr Vollin for help.

Vollin agrees and the operation is a success. Somewhere between the operation table to a recovered Jean, Vollin falls in love with the girl.

After finding out Vollin’s feelings, her father disapproves of his pursuit of Jean.

Unfortunately, the doctor does not handle rejection well so he plots revenge against the Thatchers, making full use of his Poe-inspired torture devices.

On Aug 4, 1935, The London Times wrote this in its review of this film:

“Every picture should have a purpose, preferably a high one. Any concentration upon Murder as Murder can only kill the films themselves. But it is difficult to speculate as to what intention, other than the stimulation of a low morbid interest, can be behind such a production as The Raven’….Here is a film of “horror” for “horror’s” sake…. It devises shelter under the statement that it has been inspired by the genius of Edgar Allan Poe. Non-sense. Neither story nor treatment give indication of any imaginative control.”

The earliest cinema in Miri

Now, comes the question of where did Mirians watch The Raven before it was banned?

They most probably watched it in an open air cinema on the field of Gymkhana Club which back then doubled as a baseball field.

Gymkhana Club Miri (GMC) was founded sometimes in 1913 and the club built the first swimming pool in Miri in 1926.

This open air cinema was reportedly started since the 1920s by Sarawak Oilfields Ltd.

The company was a subsidiary of the Shell/Royal Dutch Group which was established to run the oil industry in Miri.

The patrons of this open air cinema was most probably the employees and families of Sarawak Oilfields Ltd.

During the 19th and early 20th century, many European explorers made their way to what they deemed as the “exotic” island of Borneo.

Some were looking for wealth while others were seeking knowledge, to be the first one to discover something new.

British novelist William Somerset Maugham for instance came to Sarawak in 1921 to explore and get inspiration for his writing.

Meanwhile, Scottish Robert Burns was considered the first European man who visited the Kayans in Borneo. His explorations were ended after he was caught by Iranun pirates during a trip to Marudu Bay in northern Borneo.

Another European who had an untimely death while exploring Borneo was Frank Hatton. He accidentally shot himself when his rifle got twisted in some jungle creepers.

Most of these explorers have one thing in common; they put their experience into writing, giving us a glimpse of what was it like in Borneo more than a century ago.

One of the lesser known writings about Borneo is written by H. Wilfrid Walker, entitled Wanderings Among South Sea Savages and in Borneo and the Philippines (1909).

Little is known about this British author except that he is a fellow of the Royal Geographical Society.

The book is actually a compilation of letters Walker wrote back home during his journey to Fiji, Papua, North Borneo and the Philippines.

He was visiting these places to collect birds and butterflies.

Walker explained that Wanderings Among South Sea Savages by no means is a scientific book and was not for naturalists and ethnologists.

Regardless, his experience – especially in Borneo – is still worth an interesting read.

After spending seven months in British North Borneo (present day Sabah), Walker made his way to Kuching.

He arrived as a guest of the Borneo Company and stayed at what he described as “the rather dilapidated government rest house.”

During his visit to Bau, Walker came across the Land Dayaks. How he described the Bidayuhs in his writing is an indicator of the racism endemic in the science of the times as he wrote that they were “not to be compared to the Sea Dayaks, who are born fighters, and whose predatory head-hunting instincts give a great deal of trouble to the government.”

Besides coming to collect birds and butterflies, the purpose of his visit to Sarawak was to see the Sea Dayaks or the Iban. And he definitely reached his goal when he visited a longhouse called Menus somewhere at upper Rajang river.

After reading Wanderings Among South Sea Savages and in Borneo and the Philippines (1909) by H. Wilfrid Walker, here are five interesting stories which took place in Sarawak we think you should know about:

1.The first time Walker saw an Iban man

Walker was really excited to see the Ibans. Together with his two servants, a Chinese cook whom he called ‘Cookie’ and a ‘civilised Dayak named Dubi’, they made their way to Sibu onboard a steamer.

In Sibu, he stayed with the Resident/famed naturalist Charles Hose.

It was in Sibu that Walker finally met his first Iban and this was how he described his first impressions.

“My first real acquaintance with the Sea Dayak was in the long bazaar at Sibu, and I was by no means disappointed in my first impressions, as I found him a most picturesque and interesting individual. The men usually have long black hair hanging down their backs, often with a long fringe on their foreheads.

Their skin is brown, they have snub noses but resolute eyes, and they are of fine proportions, though they rarely exceed five feet five inches in height. Beyond the “jawat,” a long piece of cloth which hangs down between their legs, they wear nothing, except their many and varied ornaments. They wear a great variety of earrings.

These are often composed of heavy bits of brass, which draw the lobes of the ears down below the shoulder. When they go on the war-path they generally wear war-coats made from the skins of various wild animals, and these are often padded as a protection against the small poisonous darts of the “sumpitan” or blow-pipe which, together with the “parang” (a kind of sword) and long spears with broad steel points constitute their chief weapons. They also have large shields of light wood; often fantastically painted in curious patterns, or ornamented with human hair.”

2.The first time he sees heads fresh from the headhunters

After spending three or four days in Sibu, Hose received news that the Ibans from Ulu Ai had killed a group of Punans for their heads.

Hose immediately set out to go to Kapit to punish the headhunters and he allowed Walker to go with him.

After they had arrived at Kapit, Hose invited Walker to inspect the heads. Naturally as an explorer, Walker did not want to miss the opportunity.

This was how he described it,

“They were a sickening sight, and all the horrors of head-hunting were brought before me with vivid and startling reality far more than could have been done by any writer.

Only seven of the heads had been brought in, and two of them were heads of women, and although they had been smoked, I could easily see that one of them was that of a quite young, good-looking girl, with masses of long, dark hair.

She had evidently been killed by a blow from a “parang,” as the flesh on the head had been separated by a large cut which had split the skull open. In one of the men’s heads there were two small pieces of wood inserted in the nose. They were all ghastly sights to look at, and smelt a bit, and I was not sorry to be able to turn my back on them.”

3.When a girl doubted a Christian Dayak’s manhood

Walker relates a story which was told to him, of how a girl had turned down a converted Christian man for not carrying on the practice of head-hunting.

In a certain district where some missionaries were doing good work among the Dayaks, a Dayak young man named Hathnaveng had been persuaded by the missionaries to give up the barbaric custom of headhunting.

One day, however, he fell in love with a Dayak maiden. The girl, although returning his passion, disdained his offer of marriage, because he no longer indulged in the ancient practice of cutting off and bringing home the heads of the enemies of the tribe.

Hathnaveng, goaded by the taunts of the girl, who told him to dress in women’s clothes in the future, as he no longer had the courage of a man, left the village and remained away for some time.

When he returned, he entered his sweetheart’s hut, carrying a sack on his shoulders. He opened it, and four human heads rolled upon the bamboo floor. At the sight of the trophies, the girl at once took him back into her favour, and flinging her arms round his neck, embraced him passionately.

“You wanted heads,” declared her lover. “I have brought them. Do you not recognize them?”

Then to her horror she saw they were the heads of her father, her mother, her brother and of a young man who was Hathnaveng’s rival for her affections. Hathnaveng was immediately seized by some of the tribesmen, and by way of punishment was placed in a small bamboo structure such as is commonly used by the Dayaks for pigs, and allowed to starve to death.

4.When some of Brooke’s soldiers mistakenly buried a prisoner alive

During his time in Sibu, Walker spent a great time with two of Hose’s officers named Johnson and Bolt, who then related this story to him:

A Chinese prisoner at Sibu had died, at least Johnson and Bolt both thought so, and they sent some of the Malay soldiers to bury the body on the other side of the river.

A few days later one of them casually remarked to Johnson that they had often heard it said that the spirit of a man sometimes returned to his body again for a short time after death (a Malay belief), but he (this Malay) had not believed it before, but he now knew that it was true. Johnson, much amused, asked him how that was.

“Oh,” said the Malay, “when the Tuan (Johnson) sent us across the river to bury the dead man the other day, his spirit came back to him and his body sat up and talked, and we were much afraid, and seized hold of the body; which gave us much trouble to put it into the hole we had digged, and when we had quickly filled in the hole so that the body could not come out again, we fled away quickly, so now we know that the saying is true.” It thus transpired that they had buried a live Chinaman without being aware of the fact.

5.This European who wanted to see the Dayaks, ended up becoming an exhibit himself

During his first night at an Iban longhouse, the natives who had never seen a white man before was curious to see Walker’s skin.

About midnight I began to feel a bit sleepy, but the admiring multitude did not seem inclined to move, so I told Dubi to tell them that I wanted to change my clothes and go to sleep. No one moved. “Tell the ladies to go, Dubi,” I said, but on his translating my message a woman in the background called out something that met with loud cries of approval.

“What does she say, Dubi?” I asked.“She says, Tuan,” replied Dubi, “they like see your skin, if white the same all over.”
This was rather embarrassing, and I told Dubi to insist upon their going; but Dubi, whose advice I generally took, replied, “I think, Tuan (master), more better you show to them your skin.”

I therefore submitted with as good a grace as possible, and took my shirt off, while some of them, especially the women, pinched and patted the skin on my back amid cries of approval and delight.

The next two or three nights the crowd that waited to see me change into my pyjamas was, if anything, still larger, a good many Dayaks from neighbouring villages coming over to see the sight.

But gradually the novelty wore off, to my great joy, as I was getting a bit tired of the whole performance. I had come here to see the Dayaks, but it appeared that they were even more anxious to see me.

You can read the rest of Walker’s book here.

The Sarawak Gazette has published many eyebrow-raising stories since its first publication in 1870.

Most of these incidents took place in Sarawak while others happened in other countries.

One of the strange incidents that was reported in the gazette took place in May 1937.

The headline of the report was “Asleep for a Week”. Is it possible for a person to sleep for one whole week?

Under certain circumstances, it is possible. The medical term for it is sleep hollow, not Sleepy Hollow (Tim Burton’s gothic supernatural horror).

The only known case of sleep hollow was reported in the remote village of Kalachi in Kazakhstan. The first case was reported in March 2013, after which the disease disappeared for some time before re-emerging in mid-2015.

Kazakh officials later discovered the disease was caused by carbon monoxide, along with other hydrocarbons as a result of flooding of an abandoned Soviet-era uranium mine nearby. These gases spread into the village air, causing sleep hollow among the villagers.

Kazakhstan may not have been the only place where sleep hollow has occurred.

Here is the report about a possible case of sleep hollow published in the Sarawak Gazette in July, 1937:

On May 1st, it was reported in Binatang (today Bintangor) that Sa’at bin Taha, master of the sailing vessel Mas Melayu, had mysteriously disappeared and his ship left Binatang for the coast without him.

An intensive search was made but no trace of him could be found, and it was generally agreed that he had tired of a seafaring life and had decided to retire into solitude on shore.

Great was the astonishment of the people of Binatang, therefore, when on May 7, Sa’at was found asleep in a sago godown.

After some minutes of strenuous effort the manager of the sago factory succeeded in awaking him. When he had been revived by copious draught of milk and broth, he immediately demonstrated a creditable sense of duty by enquiring where his ship was.

He was told that it had sailed a week ago, but he patiently explained to his dull-witted audience that this was impossible, as he had disembarked and visited the bazaar with one of the sailors on the previous evening.

It is firmly believed in Binatang, that Sa’at bin Taha had been asleep for a week.

Can Sa’at be considered suffering from sleep hollow? Is it possible that the sailor accidentally inhaled some carbon monoxide? We might never know.