![]() Seban and Alex both could speak enough English for us to understand each other. These days, the younger generation is bringing back the practice of getting tattoos for finishing education and traveling overseas. Taking heads, learning to build boats, or traveling to far off lands would all be quantified onto a person’s skin in the form of a beautiful, symbolic tattoo. In the past, the Iban would receive tattoos that symbolized important life achievements. Iban Tattoos – The Iban are easily recognized by their numerous, vivid tattoos. The tattooed elder introduced us to his son, Seban, and another one of Boy’s relatives, Alex. Mejong LonghouseĮntering the longhouse, we were greeted by tattoo-covered, smiling old men who showed where we would be sleeping as well as to other important parts of the longhouse. The longhouse itself takes you back in time with its all wood interior. The air is filled with the smells of people cooking, and the fresh dew from the morning. All the noise of the city and highway are replaced by the crowing of roosters. The giant, wooden longhouse sits adjacent to the river bank and the atmosphere is incredible. You cross a large, concrete suspension bridge over the Skrang River. From there, a paved road goes up the Skrang River to Mejong. From there, we could arrange for a boat to take us further upriver to Entalau.Īrriving at the junction we were picked up by Guyit, Boy’s Uncle. Then, an uncle of Boy’s would pick us up and bring us to Mejong Longhouse. We were to start by taking a bus to the Batong Junction, four hours away from Kuching. He would have to arrange it with his family to get us there.Īfter a few laid back days in Kuching, Boy had everything arranged. He said that Skrang was a difficult area to get into, as there is not much for tourism there. “Give me a few days, but for now come drink langkau with us,” Boy repliedĪs we drank, Boy told us he was from Entalau. “We want to go up the Skrang to Entalau,” I explained to Boy. Not to mention that Boy had been featured in the Borneo episode of Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown, in which he assisted in tattooing Anthony Bourdain himself. Upon walking into Skrang Tattoos, Boy, covered in tattoos, sporting the trademark Iban haircut was easily recognizable. I simply had to say the name “Boy Skrang” to anyone in Kuching and they pointed me towards his shop. Boy co-operates a tattoo shop called “Skrang Tattoos” in Kuching’s China Town. Prior to this, I had been told by a travel company that to get into the Skrang and Batang Ai, I should seek out a man named Boy Skrang. After we checked into our hotel and dropped off our bags, we were off to find someone who, I was told, could help get us up the River Skrang and the Batang Ai Region. My friend, Josh, and I arrived in Kuching from Sibu by boat. This sleepy port city has always been one of my favourite places to grab a beer and slow down. Kuching the Capital of SarawakĪrriving in Kuching, after so many years, was like seeing an old friend, a friend that had not changed after all the time that had passed by since I had last seen it. Sure, I could have simply taken a tour, as most people would have done, but I was in search of something more personal. It had proven to be extremely difficult to arrange. I had been unable to arrange this during my first trip to the region, some years before. It was for this precise reason that I decided to come back to Borneo. This is the place where travelers come to seek out old fashioned longhouses and genuine Dayak culture. Kuching is the capital city of Sarawak province Malaysia. This is a journey I will never forget, one that will stay with me long after I have left this place. This is what travelers spend all those long hours searching for, all that hard work, all that money spent, for this one, perfect moment. ![]() The muddy waters, the ancient, massive jungle foliage hanging over the river, the sounds of birds and monkeys, my newfound Iban family singing and laughing behind me I took it all in. ![]() ![]() As my boat cut further up the River Skrang, time came to a halt. I’ve always felt that it was just another cliché-stupid-feel-good-about-yourself saying, but this time, I perceived it with real meaning. “It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey.” There you go, I said it.
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