The Plantation - Di Morrissey [73]
‘Chitra works at the Swinburne University campus in Kuching. She studied at Swinburne in Melbourne and then moved back when the university expanded here in Sarawak,’ said David as he introduced her to Julie.
‘Lovely to meet you, Julie,’ said Chitra. ‘Are you looking forward to your first visit to a longhouse?’
‘Yes, I am. You’ve been upriver many times before I assume?’
‘Yes. I’ve been studying traditional culture for some time. I speak several dialects but I am most comfortable with Iban,’ said Chitra.
‘We met Chitra in Melbourne when she was studying there, so we’ve kept in touch,’ added Matthew. ‘Okay, let’s load up.’
In the busyness of balancing their backpacks and gear in the narrow boat, Julie hadn’t had much of a chance to ask Chitra any more questions. Chitra looked graceful and languid, and totally at home in the rough-hewn dugout. Julie, however, initially clung to its sides, afraid they could all easily tip into the river. But once they were underway, the breeze in her face, the last of the river villages no longer visible and no more river traffic, she felt she was at last experiencing the real and unspoiled jungle scenery she’d previously imagined, and she began to enjoy the trip.
The jungle came straight down to both sides of the river, impossibly thick, not an inch to place a foot or even a toe.
‘Are there crocodiles in here?’ she shouted above the engine to Matthew.
‘And worse,’ he called back.
But conversation was too difficult, so Julie sat and watched Barry film the scenery. They were going too fast to see any wildlife, though birds rose from the treetops as they passed and, at one point, the old man stopped the engine and as everyone turned back to look at him in alarm, he pointed and Barry raised his camera to his eye.
Swooping above them flew a pair of hornbills, unmistakable with their bright red casques on their long, curved beaks. Two dark silhouettes trailing long tail feathers, they hooted as they dipped and soared, suddenly breaking into what Julie thought to be wild, hysterical laughter, a dominating and arrogant sound.
She looked back at the boatman who was gesturing to the boy at the front. He waved his fingers above his head. Julie looked puzzled and she glanced at Matthew and David, but it was Chitra who explained.
‘They used to hunt hornbills for the tail feathers to put in their headdresses. One species was hunted for the casque on their beak, which was hard and a golden colour. Years ago it was carved into objects and known as gold ivory. Very highly prized as a lucky omen by the Chinese. Even more so than precious jade,’ she added.
‘You know a lot. How come you studied the Iban?’ asked Julie as the engine started up again.
‘I grew up in Sarawak. My father worked in the Civil Service. My mother trained in India as a doctor but nursed in Melbourne, and met my father there, and came back here to live. She started working as a medical officer and helped establish clinics up-country for the village people. My father still works in the state administration.’
‘And you work at the uni?’ asked Julie.
‘Yes, I’m a teacher. Translating is a sideline,’ said Chitra. ‘I enjoy the opportunity to get out into the remote parts of the country.’
The engine spluttered and restarted, and they turned their attention back to the river. By now the water was flowing faster, but it was clear and the river was narrower. Soon the water seemed to boil and boulders jutted at its surface, making sharp stepping stones across the river. At one point the bottom of the dugout crunched over rocks. Ayum cut the motor and tipped the propeller up out of the water as Ngali pulled out a long stout pole from under the seats and began poling them forward.
David and Matthew also reached down for two more poles and they stood to punt the heavy dugout