langkau fiction

My colleagues brought me out for lunch yesterday. They knew my car was still in the workshop and that my movement was basically crippled. I really didn’t mind skipping lunch but they insisted I should go with them. Lest I’d starve, they said. I looked at my computer. I managed to rope two sentences to make a paragraph. That’s like the whole morning’s attempt at writing a short essay. Wow, kan?

I succumbed to my colleagues’ offer. There were four of us: Wealth, Vain, Snob and me. We got into Snob’s big saloon car. I think he gets paid a lot outside of work, I don’t know. One thing I don’t really like about lunching out with my colleagues is the topic of conversation.

Yesterday was no different.

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Just got back from another trip into the ulu.

Yes, again.

It’s been like a 14-day roller coaster ride into the upper reaches of the Baram. I have these stories wriggling like worms in my head, trying to make sense of situations around me.

Four or five different areas.

Many different people.

Dynamic individuals.

Overlapping circumstances.

And one goddamn issue.

Yes, will write about it. Soon. I hope.

Oh, and yeah, I met a friend along the way.

This is one day after an exhausting three-day trip into the ulu. I left the Penan settlement in the morning, walked for two hours to Long Seridan to catch the 40-minute flight to Miri.

Miri-Long Seridan flights only operate on Thursdays and Saturdays. If you miss the Saturday flight, you’d have to wait until next Thursday before catching the next one.

Within a few hours, I was back in Kuching.

The trip itself is a story to be told. But I’m a bit tired now. Maybe another day. So, I just leave a picture below and let you imagine a story, about the beauty – and ugliness – shortly beyond this mountain.

View from the dirty window of a Twin Otter

The Peelosophy Of Bus Rides

I grabbed that rusty iron bar attached to the seat in front of me, trying to control the extreme discomfort of wanting to pee. The grip was so tight that my knuckles turned white. The bus drove at full speed and blurred the scenery outside. Or was it my tears?

“I just peed five minutes ago before the bus left the station! What’s wrong, damnit?” I whispered to myself, trying to distract my thoughts away from the imaginary waterfall or the sound of waves crushing the coast of Kiribati quickly forming in my head.

Five minutes passed by. Seven minutes. Time just dragged on. One second on my watch felt like ten minutes! Tiu! Time is indeed relative, especially given that stupid situation. After that sharp tinge of pain pierced through that abdominal part of my body – or whatever you call it – I decided to slowly walk to the driver. Moving didn’t help.

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When I was in Primary 2, my parents used to let me stay until late at night to watch that British TV show, Mind Your Language, with the hope that I could learn to speak english. hhm…

Anyways, the Demented One called me this morning just to tell me that I should watch some of the old clips. “It’s on You Tube,” he said. What’s not, right? Here’s a clip from the “All Through The Night” episode with Juan Cervantes attempting to tell a joke to lighten up his classmates’ spirits when Sidney, the school’s caretaker, accidentally locked them in the classroom.

This is why my english is lintang pukang most of the time.