An afternoon with a Malaysian Orang Asli 'aboriginal' tribe

An afternoon with a Malaysian Orang Asli 'aboriginal' tribe

After a morning nervously stepping through the jungle canopy along high-supended rope bridges, I went to visit the Bat Et Tribe of Malaysian Orang Asli 'original people', in one of 10 villages of that tribe.

These nomadic forest-dwellers allow tourists to spend an hour gawping at them in exchange for Ringgit (Malaysian currency), upon which they are now semi-dependent for nutritious sugar and rice, although they still hunt for monkeys, porcupines, birds, squirrels. Other new additions to their diet include beef curry, noodles, cookies and lollipops. The houses are triangular and made of dry Palmy fronds laid upon wooden frames, sometimes with blue plastic tarpaulin sheets, another purchase with their tourist cash.

The village

The chief, John, was one of only a few men present, the rest out hunting for food or sandalwood, the latter to be sold for money. He sported well-used shorts beaaring a worn Spiderman motif whilst the women, almost all with a young baby clinging to her breast, were partially wrapped in colourful sheets of material. The 26 children wore ragged clothes if anything and played with the plastic carrier bags littering the ground along with Dunhill cigarettes boxes; the men are dependant on tobacco to maintain their stamina during long forays into the jungle. All but the chief were wary and suspicious of us, the women scowling at us or ignoring us, the children so shy they need 2 days of familiarisation before approaching a stranger. The children appeared subdued and Chief John (father of 9 of them) explained that they wait for the afternoon downpour before playing. It was surreal, standing in the central clearing of a nomadic tribe's jungle village in a blue Oxford cotton shirt and digital camera in hand. I felt like an ignorant tourist paying for thrills at a human zoo, and wanted to leave in shame. Intrigue at such a simple way of life, and determination to find out (and be reassured about) how they'll survive against outside modern influences and pressures, kept me there.

Marraige in the tribe is a complex affair, usually between same tribers from different villages, as each village is essentially one extended family. When a couple like each other they acquire their parents' blessings then consult with the chief about a good day for the wedding. Then the villagers build a new house for the couple, to get to know each other in for the week before the wedding day. The morning after their first night they're asked,

"So how was last night?"

"Good." The couple spend another then another night together. "Not good" The wedding is called off.

To marry, females have to be 16 years old and capable of women's work: fishing; cooking; making a house roof. Males must be 20 years old and able to make fire, poison darts and a dart blow pipe, be able to survive in the jungle, and understand natural medicine. On the big day and evening there is a big party of traditional food, music and dancing.

Being nomadic, the tribe uproot every 3-4 months, when the local hunted food, and sandalwood, become depleted. After the chief has approved a new site, new houses are built then the villagers move all their belongings over a day or two. The village is also relocated after a death, as the old site must be bad or unlucky. A dead body is placed in a specially-built tree house, around 35m above the ground, and protected against the elements by a single-piece shroud of tree bark. Cooking utensils are placed by the corpse's left, and by the right hunting tools and personal possessions. A marker is placed at the foot of the tree but often washed away, thus the body often 'lost', too. Usually the corpse is checked after 2 weeks for natural decay then after 2 years, when the remaining bones are removed and buried. The tribe believe a body uses Nature to grow and live thus must be returned to Nature after death: as animals' food. With no Gods, the Orang Asli 'worship' Nature's spirits: rain; trees; lightning; moon etc.

As paying tourists, we were there to learn to make fire with just wood and also poison blow darts. We were fortunate to have the opportunity because when the tribe relocates away from the river, tourists are not taken through the jungle to visit. Chief John made fire in 10 seconds using a long, reed-like strip of lighweight Marantey tree wood, and rubbing it vigorously in a groove of a plank with a hole cut through. When friction-generated smoke appeared he added wood-shavings for a flame and fuel. He then cut 4 darts from a clarinet-reed-like strip of bamboo wall, the poison and the glue for the dart flights both the sap of the Ipoh tree. The dart launcher is a 2m long, dead straight blowpipe (of a special bamboo they spend up to a month searching for in the jungle), decorated with finely etched rings, like vinyl record grooves, that indicate the number of animals successfully killed. He flew the darts into the fin of a 20cm fish shape etched into a polystyrene board (yeh, polystyrene), from 25m away. His family won't go hungry with that accuracy! And then my turn, a pathetic effort in comparison, though I got the dart to go towards the target.

Chief John making poison blowdarts

Chief John 'killing his prey' by blowing poison darts through a bamboo 'gun'

So, can the Bet Et tribe continue their traditional way of life in a rapidly modernising and forest-removing Malaysia? Sighing, Chief John told us, "The current elders can, though it'd be difficult without rice and money. The children couldn't; they enjoy their cookies and ice-cream too much?"