My Humble Durian Mini Orchard

I have a soft spot for durians, not just the fruits but the trees as well. To me, durian trees are handsome (or beautiful) and the fruits are awkwardly mystifying. Another of my favourite fruit trees is langsat. So, quite some years ago, during one durian and langsat fruit season, I started collecting some "choice" seeds available in my village including those belonging to my late grandfather. It was quite a chore learning how to grow seedlings successfully out of those seeds. After some good advice from the elderly, I managed to grow quite a number of durian and langsat seedings. I also complimented my collections with a few dozens of the famous D24 durian clone.

All in all, I managed to plant close to two hundred durian trees of mixed species and about fifty langsat plantlets. Due to my limited financial resources then, most of the time those young plants were left to grow naturally on their own. Only occasionally were they fed with chemical fertilisers, usually after clearing which were only done at most twice a year.

Now that they have grown into young trees and I feel very glad it was not a disappointment after all. In fact, for the last couple of years, some of those trees have already learned how to bear fruits. In a few more years, majority of them would have been matured and I am expecting most of them to produce harvest. And many of my D24 clone look promising because for a number of years now, for whenever I went back home during durian seasons, the little blessings would be fairly shared amongst my siblings. I now no longer bring back durians fruits belonging to my parents, not because I am not allowed to, but because, as they say, I am now learning to enjoy the fruits of my own labour, in a small and humble way though.

And my langsat trees? It seems that I still need to patiently wait for some more years for them to bear fruits. I must admit that if I were to bring back langsat from my village, most probably that would still be my father's. Heh...heh...

My son (brown T-shirt) with his cousin posed for the camera in front of his dad's young durian trees.

Looking down from uphill of my mini durian orchard.

The panoramic view surrounding my mini orchard.

Another breathtaking view as seen from my humble durian farm.

A colony of wasps having a free rent on the branch of one of my durian trees.

A view of my humble house from uphill.

A preparation for my retirement years as seen from uphill.

My humble house, my humble mini orchard seen from the main road. Remember Lundu-Biawak Road story? Click here.

Another view from the main road.

No Pain, No Gain. A Steely Courageous Young Man Of Honour And Dignity

"Life is hard", so they say. And yes it is. To earn a living is harder still. Yet many of us take life for granted especially those young adult sons and daughters who have been living with silver spoons. Unfortunately not all of us are lucky enough to enjoy the riches of our motherland in the way we wish it to be. A great many toiled from sunrise to sunset , rain or shine, just to bring home a meager to feed their mouths and fulfill the basic needs of their loved ones. Some, however chose to beg while others, especially the healthier ones, just felt unashamedly at ease living with their hands tied to charity when in fact they do not need any assistance of that sorts.

It was some months ago that I chance upon this young man doing some rehabilitation work on a government owned dwelling house. He was simply a different breed of a young man worthy of due admiration, respect and emulation . For many, just a slight flu would render them "bedridden" for at least a couple of days. But not this young man, for he is a man of steel and dignity. Not even a broken limb (hand) heavily cast in the plaster of Paris would deter him from earning a decent living.

His face doesn't show the slightest inkling for the need of any sympathy when I got quite close to take a few shots of him in action. Out of my sheer admiration for this young man's steely guts, I was so dumbfounded that I could not even remember to ask for his name or where he came from. All I managed to utter was telling him that I have taken his pictures from afar and again asking him for a permission to take a few more pictures this time from quite reasonably close. He humbly agreed by responding with a polite smile and a single convincing nod. Deep in my heart I hope and pray that this young stranger will someday be a successful man in his endeavors.

From a distance of about fifty meters. He hasn't realized that I am taking his pictures.

Still not aware of me taking his pictures. He keeps on drilling even if the pain is very chilling.

Look at that! Handling a heavy duty hand drill single handedly.

A real man that he is. A plastered hand on his right thigh and his left hand on the drill.

This is from quite a close distance after I told him that I am taking his pictures.

"My hand may be broken, but not my will and courage", is what I bet he is thinking.

Not many young men have the guts to emulate him. May God bless this young Dayak.

When Hawkers Go Latah At The Gading Hawker Centre, Lundu

It is not often, in fact quite rare that we find more than one latah person at the same time at one particular location for the same particular purpose. That happened to me a few days ago at the Gading Hawker Centre, Lundu. All together, at that time, they were four of them and all have past their golden jubilee breathing the air of this earth. All four are still very active and healthy thus their almost everyday presence at the stall to sell their fresh from the jungle produce which serves as a testimony. And all of them are dear ladies of whom are very familiar to me.

As always, whenever I have a chance to shop for fresh jungle produce for our lunch and dinner table at the hawker centre, I would first ‘provoke’ these latah ladies to react to my teasing and bodily gestures. The most common ‘provocative action’ that I would perform is to dance for a few seconds in front of any of them. For some, my actions might be seen as ‘improper and unbecoming’ or even ‘cruel’. But being jovial and ‘naughty’ that I am, seldom do I miss the chance to make other sellers and customers smile and laugh a little bit upon seeing how these latah ladies react when I tease them. This time however, I armed myself with a camera just for the purpose of recording their actions.

Latah is a condition of hyper startling found in certain parts of the world that is commonly considered a culture-specific syndrome. Wikipedia has a short description of what latah is as can be found here. Below are some of the frames of what I managed to capture. Please click on pictures to view larger images.

Welcome! The picture says it all. Always busy every morning especially on weekends.

The first reaction of this lady upon seeing me taking her pictures.

Don't know whether she realizes she is laughing.

She grabs someone's handbag to avoid my camera. Notice carefully her facial and eye gestures.

Her face fully hidden from my camera sight.

She turns her back on the camera. I guess she is not fully conscious of what she is doing.

A while later, I manage to lure two latah ladies to perform a dance festival by first dancing myself.

The dance festival in full action. Notice the lady in red (with a black pouch) laughing almost uncontrollably on seeing the two graceful dancers.

The festival is still merrily on. Others are enjoying the show.

The lady in red T-shirt is telling the two cultural dancers that time is up for a more serious affair of selling and buying.

"Well, it's not over yet", says the lady in white shirt. "Let's rock, baby! Rock here, rock there, rock everywhere."

"I am satisfied now that I have proved to the world that I can dance to any tune, any where, any time." Bet that was what the lady in pink T-shirt is saying to herself.

"Adios, until tommorrow!" Meanwhile, the other latah lady in white shirt is still dancing thus the onlookers are still laughing and smiling.

My friend, Mr David (standing, black trousers/cap, bright T-shirt) of Lundu District Council collects the toll. He does this almost without fail every morning.

As a Salako Bidayuh myself, I am really proud and happy to note that majority of these small time entrepreneurial folks are of the same race as I am. They really toiled hard to make an honest and respectable living. On good seasons, they earned a handsome four figures. With this kind of humble but notable deeds, I suppose staff of the Welfare Service Department (Jabatan Kebajikan Masyarakat) are less burdened with giving and processing application forms for distribution of aids. Bravo Salako Bidayuh!