One morning as a Brookian.

An alternate take whereby Sarawak is still under Rajah Brooke and there is no Malaysia. A little inspiration from my own comment in one of my post. Mind you, nothing political about this.

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It’s early, I thought. Though it’s really not that early but I woke up late. And here I am sipping coffee on my apartment balcony overlooking Kuala Lumpur with a newspaper in hand.

MCA IS OUT. The headline of the newspaper seems to scream at me into reading the front page. But I wasn’t really interested. Yesterday it was almost the same when MIC decided they had enough of coalition with UMNO. I sighed. All because this country I’m staying for the time being, refused to change its name from the controversial ‘Tanah Melayu’. And it already celebrated its 50th years of independence.

50 years huh? 50 years and still bickering about three races. I met a young cute guy recently whose dad is Malay and his mom Chinese. And till now he couldn’t figure which races he should put when applying jobs. So I told him, government job, Malay…private sectors, Chinese…international company, Malachi. They might think you’re Jews.

And why oh why do I have to be bothered? My working visa nearly expired and if I couldn’t find myself a job, I might have to go back home. And become the native people of Brooke Borneo. At least here, in the middle of a thriving chaotic city, I’m the unique Brookians, although I rather be known as Borneon. I am a Bidayuh but my dear beloved country…and that’s sarcastically beloved…refused to acknowledge my heritage. So dumped me into the Land Dayak group. Sea dayak, land Dayak! Nobody knows what it actually means anymore! Can’t the royal (pain-in-the-ass) family accept that?

Sometime I wonder what our royal adviser doing? Respected as the Taiko of Borneo, I wonder sometime whether he actually thinks of the native rights. Or whether he was just using his own people to amass his own family fortunes? Though there are many improvements for the last few years….

But still, do we have pay tolls to cross our own bridge?! Gah?!

My dad told me recently, there is an uprising of political unrest. Unlike in Tanah Melayu, surprisingly enough the Malay and Chinese are united. I think it’s because they find themselves being oppressed by all the ‘ang moh’ being brought into the country. And felt they are being mistreated in their own (adopted) land.

Sometime I felt bad about that. At least all the indigenous groups are formally known as Bumiputra; being rightfully the actual native of Borneo but it is really not fair. I mean, I got Malay friends whose families had lived in Borneo for many generations and still not properly recognized as a citizens.

But sometime I’m angry too. On Chinese and Malays. They being educated early gave them the edge, they being gathering fortunes from across the ocean felt the need to be biased towards other groups. Its ironic that some people who accuses other people of being racist are ignorance of their own racism. Not forgetting rude.

And here I am, far from my own country. Seeking the greener grass that my hilly jungle could not provide. Questioning again the Taiko silently. Yet can’t stop thinking that they are many native Brookians…yeah, the Bumiputra…had found success outside of Borneo as they could not find it in their own hometown.

I sipped my coffee again. And found out it had turned lukewarm. I took a steady sip, putting the cup down, started to go through the newspaper again to find something more interesting to read.

Batang Ai dam to be renamed Batang Brooke dam.

I chocked on my coffee. What the hell?! Sometime the royal family just simply makes the worst mistakes. I don’t know whether to laugh or be angry…Batang Brooke…don’t they even know what ‘batang’ means?

I remembered sometimes ago, they tried to rename a Bidayuh village with the name of Tanah Melayu Prime Minister who was visiting the country. That poor guy. I don’t think he realized it was an inside joke to actually putting a curse on his family. Fortunately for him, somebody felt the joke had gone too far.

Talking about names, the Brooke family thinks its ok to name everything using English resulting in a few hilarious embarrassing effects. Change Bau to Smell? What Smelly town? James Town. Nobody thought it existed in Borneo. Even some of the village had their names changed too. Give Village. Burnt Onions Village. Hot Village. Arghhh!!!!

My Dad says that in earlier years, the Brooke family didn’t even bother with the natives. Some of us until now didn’t have a proper ID. I was lucky. My Dad worked for the government and he could speak good English, so he befriended some ‘ang moh’ who helped our family out.

I didn’t like the ‘ang moh’ much back home. They are nice but sometimes they really looked down on us. Maybe considering us that particularly exotic race that should stay in the jungle to attract more tourists. Yet some of them dare to steal our lands and sold our trees. Pollute our rivers and destroyed our hills.

I flip the newspaper again, finding myself thinking too much about home. I haven’t gone back for nearly three years as the plane tickets was too high. Last I gone back was for Christmas. There is no other holiday in Borneo. I guess, being backed up by the Vaticans, the Rajah family feels the needs to NOT acknowledge any other religions. Luckily for me, my family had converted to Catholics so it helps in many ways. There are many other races who are Catholics too. Including Chinese and Malays.

I looked again over the city and wonder about something. What if Borneo had joined Tanah Melayu? What if the Rajah had given Borneo to the British and it would have the chance of being independence? Would things have changed for the better, for worse or maybe, as it is written, nothing will change?

I need to find a job just to renew my working visa. But right now, as I looked at my cup of coffee, I need another cup…preferably a hot one.

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The incident with the escalator.

Years ago, when I was maybe three or five, my mom, me and maybe if I’m not mistaken my older brother, went to a shopping complex. I can’t remember which shopping complex was that. It was either the new Wisma Saberkas or Upwell. All I know it was new. It has elevators that goes up to higher floors and ‘the stairs that moves’.

I remembered being very excited and my mom held to my hands so I just wouldn’t just run off. But me being me, having that independent spirit since I was young, was having problem being still.

I remembered that we were going down the ‘moving stair’. Unknown to me, like many others during that time, my mom was terrified. You see, it was her first time going down the ‘moving stair’ and she have to make sure her two young kids will be safe.
But I jump on the first step. My mom hesitated.

So down I went happily, till I realized my mom was not with me. The only thing that came down was one of her shoe. I remembered looking up then, when I reached bottom, that my mom was still standing.

It takes a few minutes before she decided to take the first step, without one of her shoe. I remembered, that I felt the situation was funny. And maybe so did a few people at that time.

It took many years of recall and realization to understand what my mom went through. She was not only terrified, she was probably embarrassed and felt like a total fool. But down she went and I didn’t hear she complained much about it then.

Before somebody raise some disbelieve with this story, let me explain. This happened more than 20 years ago (I'm SO old!). When a shopping complex in Kuching with an escalator are rare. And for today standard, it wasn’t even considered a shopping complex. Buildings are mostly two storey high. And taller buildings are usually government based buildings.

There are three reasons why I’m writing this incident. Firstly, my mom, quite a conservative Bidayuh lady, after that learn her ways around Kuching. She overcame her fears of escalators and knew how to deal with all the development that pops rapidly around Kuching. She loves eating at KFC. She knew how to be thrifty and to not buy unnecessary things. She joined me in one of Kuching exclusive restaurant and even one time, I brought her to one of the new pub in the city. She stayed in Kuala Lumpur for nine months alone to take care of my sick older brother. She would tell me the times when she had to fend off drug addicts with her umbrella.

She even climbed Mt. Kinabalu with me on my first attempt and was faster. Though she didn’t reached the top coz I got sick at Laban Rata and she couldn’t leave me.

I love my mom. I love the fact even with the lack of knowledge, lack of support, lack of helping hands, she still managed to be that typical conservative Bidayuh lady who had gone through a few hardship and goes on with her life.

The second reason, is to note how far Kuching, like my mom, had grown. From that town in Sarawak into a city with a big mall, a scenic waterfront, a cultural village and so many other developments, I think, not many thought possible. We have universities; government based and privates. Apartments, condos and more higher class hotels. Bridges too. Though some we need to pay tolls to cross them.



Yes, there are still more things to improve. Not only developments in the forms of architecture but also social developments and reformations. There are things needs sharpening. There are things needs conservations. And there are things that are needed to balance all this. Though to some, maybe painfully slow, the positive changes are showing.

The third reason, is how far Bidayuh had grown too. Years ago it would be almost impossible to see highly educated Bidayuh, those who holds official positions, those who are professionals like teachers, engineers, accountants and even doctors. But now there are more and more Bidayuh in the professional work force. Even some goes into business. There are many who ‘fights’ for the Bidayuh rights, by their own way, from politic to non-government-organisation.

And more and more Bidayuh sees education as one of the main point to a better a life. More and more Bidayuh are beginning to see more reasons to be proud of being a Bidayuh. Yes, I'm aware I'm using the 'more' many times. I like that word.

There are still problems though. I’m not that naïve to say that we are without one (or many). But I think, just like my mom, we have to take that tentative first step even though we have only one shoe.

Anyway, Mom. Happy Mothers Day!

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Dayak or Dyaks? The origins of the words Dayaks.

Years back, I stumbled upon a history book in Kuching State Library. I can’t remember much of the content of the book but one statement stays in my memory. It was the origins of the words Dayak which not many Sarawakians are even aware of.

In modern times, the word Dayak are being used mostly among the Bidayuh to describe ‘Bidayuh people’. ‘Onak Dayak’ usually refers to the children of Bidayuh. As is ‘dayak sok Bau’ which refers to Bidayuh from Bau regions, which where I came from. Though some insisted that all native or indigenous race of Sarawak are called Dayak. Therefore all races should be called Dayak Bidayuh, Dayak Iban, Dayak Kelabit and so on.

However, before Borneo became a part of Malaysia, there were only two native groups that was known as Dayak. Land Dayak, which stands for the Bidayuh people who lives mostly on hills and mountains. The surrounding forest provided the livelihood for the people as they hunts animals and plants padi on hilly slopes. The Sea Dayak refers to the tribal warring Ibans who live mostly by rivers or sea and was known to produce salts as part of their livelihood. They are also known to attack other indigenious groups for treasures such as beads and also foods. They are known though to kidnap young children to be made their own. Head hunting also have made this groups notorious during their times. Only during the rule of the White Rajah, the practices of head hunting was considered a crime and it slowly fades in times.


Though as hundreds of years had passed the words Dayak had been accepted as part of the Bidayuh language and many thought that it was originally a native word.

Recently, I visited the National Museum in Kuala Lumpur and came upon a picture depicting a few Dayak attacking British ships. What made me laughed was the old picture showed Dayak wearing white turbans and a get-up similar to Indian warriors (Indian as in the native people of India). Can’t help but to wonder who had drawn that picture in the first place and who had allowed it to be depicted as history.

The captions described it as ‘Dyaks attack on British ship’something like that. And that brought me back to the particular history that I’ve read years back.
The word Dyaks was first said by the English soldier, James Brooke as he saw the indigenious race was similar to a Native American race known as the Dyaks people. As he was given the authority to solve the problems concerning the native people who was giving the Brunei royalty a hard time, he described the two main groups as Land Dayak and the Sea Dayak.
I’m not sure about the history of the Dyaks people in native America but I’m thinking of making more research on that. It wouldn’t be surprise if the race is extinct. That was probably the reason why Pangeran Muda Hashim decided James Brooke was the right person to handle the native people. I wonder what happen to the Pangeran after the whole region was given to the Brooke family instead.

There was one quote that says history was written by those who win the battle. That kind of reminds me of how little I know about my own people. Maybe spending a whole day researching at the National Library wouldn’t be a bad idea.

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