April 24, 2009
Our time in Mukah was absolutely fabulous, but the most memorable part might have been getting there....
It started with a boat ride that you wouldn’t believe. I would have believed that it would end tragically! I thought about what the headlines would say as I fought for a seat in the crowded little “speed” boat. 40 people die in speed boat crash! In a boat made only for 10!
Here is the boat.......
Here is the boat.......
...........Just kidding!!!This is really our boat. (The tiny white speed boat in the background.)
(We made it safely to where we were going, with a sigh of relief and no need for the startling headlines.) 
Our nerves were already frazzled from trying to find the correct boat, but as we fought for spots among the head covered ladies, the plastic sacks of fruits and vegetables and the crates of chickens, our skills were really put to the test. I had to beg for people to scoot over to make me a spot and I had to tell Staci to go around to the back of the boat to squeeze into the only open spot I could see. I quickly made friends with the young Muslim girl next to me when she expressed her fear of the situation around us. Now, if she was scared, maybe I should be scared too!
But, I wasn’t scared. In fact, I was finally having the adventure that I wanted to be having! I finally felt alive! I was stuck on a boat with people that didn’t speak English but were yammering away in Malay. I was surrounded by their sacks of belongings, every once in a while, some bags would fall into my lap. I heard the live rooster calling out from his perch on top of the boat, but getting more quiet and tired the further we went. I watched all the kids slowly start falling asleep in their mother’s laps.
The boat turned off the main river and suddenly we were in another world. From the small windows of the boat, I could see out into this other world. A world of small wooden shacks on stilts, built along the tiny river’s edge. A world that probably had not seen very many tourists. A simple world with people bathing and washing clothes along the riverside and fishing for their dinner. A world of old men sleeping in the shade of the trees and children laughing with the purest smiles and giggles ever seen. Part of me really wanted to jump out at the next stop and explore. I felt that the tiny villages along the river held some wonderful adventures. I knew there wouldn’t be toilet paper, or toilets, for that matter. I knew there probably wouldn’t be electricity to charge my camera batteries or bottled water to take my Malaria medicine. But part of me wanted to get out and stay for awhile. Just stop my life and join these people in theirs. Part of me wanted to sit in the shade and just watch their lives happening around me. I wanted to laugh with the children innocently and with no worries. How nice would it be to forget about life for awhile? Forget about the economy. Forget about the loss of jobs. Forget about the Tae Kwon Do forms that I’m not practicing. (but should be!!)
Unfortunately, I didn’t get out. I couldn’t leave Staci on the boat alone and I didn’t know when the next boat would come along. I felt sad that I was stuck in my world and was not free to join them in theirs. But it would have been nice, I know it.
But, I wasn’t scared. In fact, I was finally having the adventure that I wanted to be having! I finally felt alive! I was stuck on a boat with people that didn’t speak English but were yammering away in Malay. I was surrounded by their sacks of belongings, every once in a while, some bags would fall into my lap. I heard the live rooster calling out from his perch on top of the boat, but getting more quiet and tired the further we went. I watched all the kids slowly start falling asleep in their mother’s laps.
The boat turned off the main river and suddenly we were in another world. From the small windows of the boat, I could see out into this other world. A world of small wooden shacks on stilts, built along the tiny river’s edge. A world that probably had not seen very many tourists. A simple world with people bathing and washing clothes along the riverside and fishing for their dinner. A world of old men sleeping in the shade of the trees and children laughing with the purest smiles and giggles ever seen. Part of me really wanted to jump out at the next stop and explore. I felt that the tiny villages along the river held some wonderful adventures. I knew there wouldn’t be toilet paper, or toilets, for that matter. I knew there probably wouldn’t be electricity to charge my camera batteries or bottled water to take my Malaria medicine. But part of me wanted to get out and stay for awhile. Just stop my life and join these people in theirs. Part of me wanted to sit in the shade and just watch their lives happening around me. I wanted to laugh with the children innocently and with no worries. How nice would it be to forget about life for awhile? Forget about the economy. Forget about the loss of jobs. Forget about the Tae Kwon Do forms that I’m not practicing. (but should be!!)
Unfortunately, I didn’t get out. I couldn’t leave Staci on the boat alone and I didn’t know when the next boat would come along. I felt sad that I was stuck in my world and was not free to join them in theirs. But it would have been nice, I know it.
(We made it safely to where we were going, with a sigh of relief and no need for the startling headlines.)
Here are our bags, tied to the top of the boat. Right next to the basket with the live rooster. (See his tail sticking out of the basket?) And the following are pictures of the cramped accomodations inside....
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