Long Jelet

Our short hike ended in the tiny village of Long Jelet. This little kampung consists of approximately 70 people and a few dozen wooden houses. The locals are, by far, the most self-sustaining peoples I've ever met. They produce all their own rice through rotation swidden farming and their protein is caught with nets, shot with guns are speared. They cultivate vegetables in their yards or gather them from the surrounding forest. The materials from their houses come from the forest, even their backpacks are woven from locally gathered rattan. They do buy coffee, tea, sugar and gas for their boat engines and there's the occasional satellite TV. To pay for these items many of the villagers take the 5 day trek which brings them to Malaysia where they generally find work on palm oil plantations and send home the money.

A group of villagers greeted us with strong handshakes and smiles as we entered the village. This was a phenomenal improvement to our experience in Long Pujungan where the people were not overtly happy to see us invading their little haven and we began to wonder if the locals actually wanted tourists. WWF has done a great job with hospitality training in the kampung of Long Jelet. We were then whisked away to our host family's house which was home to a young couple and their adorable one year old son who stumbled about the house with beads wrapped around his calves, arms and neck.

The head of the local ecotourism committee was eager for us to get outside and about an hour after arriving we had already arranged our next excursion. There wasn't many options available to us, since we didn't want to pay around 300,000 Rupiah for a 15 minute boat ride and most of the trips involved riding on a boat, so we decided to head to a nearby waterfall. We were told that this waterfall would be a mere 2 hour, easy trek which tells you how often tourists visit the waterfall. What was suppose to take half a day ended up being a full day of hiking. It's not so much that the waterfall was far away. It took us that long because we hiked along a foot wide path which was hacked out of a very steep sloping mountain. It took all of our energy just not to fall down the mountain as we scampered about trying to keep up with the rest of the crew. Clearly the locals were not used to seeing those who lead a sedentary lifestyle try to balance over slippery moss covered rocks. They pranced over the stones like they were strolling on an even cement sidewalk. We were constantly eating their dust. Exhausted, we arrived at the waterfall where everyone got picture happy. They love posing! My favorite was our grandfather guide who is a skilled rattan weaver. Watching him changing poses next to the waterfall was the highlight of the day. After the picture-picture one of the men persuaded us to join him in a dip in the pool at the base of the waterfall. Then we had to rush back across the mountain in order to make it home before dark.

The Good Life
After the exhausting hike to Long Jelet followed by the harrowing trek to the waterfalls we decided our poor feet deserved a break from the terrible rubber shoes. So, we took a day of rest. We had a leisurely breakfast of extreme fried fish and rice. We lounged around reading a watching the little boy run around with a large grin on his face.


In the afternoon some of the locals took us on a small river tour. They brought along their cast nets and woven rattan backpacks and fished the river. We were also lucky enough to partake in the action. I've seen cast net thrown numerous times, and the men who wield them always do so with such calm and easy composure. But I'll tell you one thing...this is no simple task. The base of the net is strung through metal chain, which is heavy! It took us some time to figure out how exactly to hold the net and it was difficult to keep my chain-laden arms up for so long. A few times during the throw, I thought either one of us would land face first in the water. It was a tough job and though our attempts were entertaining to watch they were by no means fruitful. Thankfully, we had with us a pair of skilled fishermen who filled the woven backpacks with delicious freshwater fish of all shapes and sizes.

We awoke the following day to rain. That's right folks, the rainy season had finally begun, much to our dismay. It was also pouring every night. Ugh.

Because of the rain, we decided to rest again. In the afternoon the village leader took us on a search for some animals. We were hoping to see some monkeys and deer but we're not very good trackers, though our guide was. He saw a deer or two but each time he tried to point them out we failed to see them hidden in the brush. On the way back he stopped to gather some vines for dinner. It was amazing watching him work the machete around the very spiny vines. He worked so smoothly and deftly, quickly removing the out thorns to uncover the white insides. Then he took us on an interesting journey through the ferns back to the village.

Mealtime
Our hostess was amazing. Before every meal she would separate the warm rice into portions and pack them in large leaves. She would also heat up the main dishes, which usually consisted of leftovers, so we always had piping hot food to fill our tummies. She then laid the amazing meaty spread on the floor of the large common room and we would eat our meal with our hands while seated on the wooden floor. Beside the main dishes, she would place a small bowl full of hand crushed fresh chili peppers mixed with salt which we would sprinkle on our food to give added flavor and warmth.

One day, some pork showed up at a meal. It had been boiled so tender that it literally melted in one's mouth. The taste was richer and stronger than any pork we'd ever tasted and the meat was lean. Someone (our host?) had killed the wild pig and brought it to our home (perhaps split it between a number of households?). Subsequently, we ate pig at every meal for the next 3 days. What we didn't finish the first day was put back into the kettle and left near the constantly roaring fire. Just before mealtime our hostess would place the pot over the fire to heat the meat before serving. This was repeated numerous times and the meal became more delicious with each day.

Besides wild boar, we also were served numerous wild plants which had been gathered in the jungle. Once we were served the insides a large, spiky rattan-like vine, which tasted bitter. We also had chopped up leaves and ferns. From the farrow rice paddies we picked unripened pineapple and made a fiery chili pineapple salad.

Undoubtedly one of the staples is deep fried fish. This is because the fish are easier to catch than the forest animals. One day our host took his boat out for about an hour and came home with enough fish to feed us for 2 days. All fish caught were eaten and these included large suckers as well as smaller fish.

The Journey Home
Each day we awoke we were unsure about how long we'd get to stay in the beautiful backwater. We knew we needed to make it out of Long Punjungan by a certain date in order to make it out of the country before our visa expired, but no one could tell us exactly when the downriver boats would be setting sail. Since we'd have to leave Long Jelet a day before the boats left, our length of stay in Long Jelet was dependent on the very loose trip schedule. We were told that there would surely be boats on the weekend, but no boats left. Everyday was a new story and it began to worry us.

We had planned to take a boat from Long Jelet to Long Punjungan to save us the energy of another 1.5 day hike. But, because of the unexpected change in the weather (ie rain) we were told one morning that the river was raging over the rapids with such voracity that the small motor boats were unable to ply its waters. In effect, the people of Long Jelet (us included) were trapped. This was not a new phenomenon and it seemed not to phase the locals in the slightest. The head of the ecotourism committee new of our situation and gave us two options: We could wait out the rain and see if the river dropped enough before the expiry date on our visa or we could return the way we came, on foot and through the hills. Though he gave us the options, it was clear he would rather us hike out of Long Jelet, the much safer of the two options. This meant however, that we would be leaving in just a few hours for another feet-killing journey. This did not make Lora happy, who was content in the warm wooden hut. Soon the rain stopped and two guides were rounded up to take us on our trek.

The first day was up a steep hill and then back down. Again, the guides shot a female barking deer. They cut the meat up nicely and grilled a leg over the fire. The rest of the meat (no inners! Yea!) they through in a pot and boiled.

The next day we got up early and broke down camp. As usual we heard the occasional crash of an animal running away in the distance. When we reach a shoulder in the uphill climb the sounds of gibbons we had been following grew steadily louder. One of the guides, who was skilled at animal mimicry began calling back to the gibbons. We put our bags down and rushed up farther to see if we could catch a glimpse at these graceful creatures. Sure enough, they had been swinging along the path and we had a wonderfully clear view of them as they glided through the trees. We were even lucky enough to watch one of the pair make a u-turn and swing back toward us. Unfortunately, we were both so stunned by the awesomeness of the moment that neither one of us snapped any pictures. Never mind, the pictures could never have turned out as perfect as my memories of the primates.

We had to walk hard and fast the rest of the trip in order to make it all the way back to Long Pujungan before dark. It was imperative that we make it to the town because the next day we needed to be on the boat down river. Exhausted, we made it to town just as it became to dark to see without light. We spent the night in an extremely overpriced guesthouse and got on the same boat that took us upstream. We were sad to leave this place, but happy that the journey had left us with so many good memories.