One afternoon we decided to take a trip tp one of the local caves. On the way we passed through the Betak villlage briefly, but didn't get much time to ask questions. The nomenclature of the Ear Cave is simple: the cave starts out really big when you enter and way over on the other end you’re literally crawling through a coffee can sized hole on your belly through water and bat poo to get out. We saw several hand-sized spiders and two water snakes. In the darkness it got kind of weird. Helen and I were at the back behind 3 Dutch girls who made it mandatory to scream at every bug, poke every bat, and take pictures of every crevice (none of which came out) all while trying to keep their white hiking clothes clean. Sometimes the guide was so far ahead Helen and I were in pitch black with nothing to navigate with us but the voices ahead and a very temperamental flashlight. In the larger room we could hear the bats screeching that their home had been invaded. We could also hear some of them flying around us. It was when we got to the smaller caves and the guide had gone ahead when the they actually started flying into us. It got a little creepy.

On the way back from the Ear Cave one Dutch girl, who had already shown her insightful prowess many times, asked why it was raining all the time. I could see the guide biting his lip while patiently explaining exactly why a rainforest is called a rainforest. She was clearly part of the Hollish Space Program.

The second day we decided to take a hike to find a local waterfall. We missed a turn and ended up lost 6 km down an access road. Luckily, some locals stopped and gave us a ride back. I learned something interesting that day. The hotels and guest houses will give slightly wrong directions if you go out without their paid guides. We did, however, see a rare white-handed gibbon, but by the time I fumbled for camera he was already 5 jungles away. It’s pretty lame, I know, but sometimes rare jungle animals just don’t like to hang out to pose, hence the artists rendering of the 1950's style poster that looks like it came from the science class in Animal House. Here are a few more animals we never saw (and their room numbers). There are also some leech pics which certain friends will know were taken with our camera.

.On our first day we’d met Angie Ng sitting behind the tourist information desk in one of the rafts that doubles for a restaurant, a store, and the SKG Tour company. Whenever we had questions about pretty much anything in Taman Negara we always found ourselves asking her. We kept wanting her to guide us but since her company is a family business and she speaks the best English, Angie was always stuck behind her desk organizing things. Finally, on our last day we wanted to go see the Orang Asli, a local jungle tribe. Angie found someone to cover for her and she took us to the Dedan village.

On the long boat trip farther up the Trembeling I was wondering how “tribal” these people really were. In Thailand our so-called tribal experiences meant that the villagers got the mobile call to do a quick change into their colorful outfits about 45 minutes before we arrived. Basically, in Thailand the so-callled villages were more like glorified souvenir stands set up to give the tour operators a kickback on everything sold. A typical ploy in these parts of the world. So, yes, I was a bit suspect. Looking more like indigenous Australian (Aboriginee) than Malaysian, I can sum up their level of backwoods tribalness in two words: blow gun! Yes, blow gun, and believe me I will get back to that. Also, the women walk around bare chested (covering up not to offend visiting westerners), and unfortunately, like in any really small town, all the children have chronic lower respiratory problems which seem to be the indication of inbreeding in these parts. They have also rejected all western luxuries except the occasional blue tarpaulin to help rainproof their huts. We were taken through the vilage, shown their customs and we met many important village people, and they even showed us how they make fire...pretty much boy scout standard.

Now, let’s talk about the blow gun (you didn’t think I’d let that one go so quickly did you?). They hunt prey with poison tipped darts shot with incredible accuracy (up to 500 yards) through 5 foot pieces of fire treated bamboo. They showed us how they actually join 2 pieces of bamboo with a very hard sap and cure it. The darts are made out of strips of rattan that are filed to a point then poisoned with plant extract. Angie told me if I got hit I’d make it about 20 steps before lapsing into coma. Then, to my inner child's elation, they asked if we wanted to try it. I nailed the innocent little teddy bear in the face from about 30 ft. and Helen pierced it’s ear. Afterwards, as a prize they gave us a 3 foot long mini blow gun (an Orang Asli version of a Saturday Night Special, I suppose) and invited us to stay overnight so we could go hunting with them. I declined because I wasn't too sure of their stance on cannibalism.

Some other interesting aspects of the Orang Asli tradition are:

When someone dies they hang the body from a rattan cot way up in the trees very deep in the jungle. After two years the bones are collected and buried. This way the heavens get part of the body and so does the earth.

Also, family of the deceased must move from their hut or a wild elephant will attack it and kill all inhabitants.

They believe that if meat and veg are cooked together in the same pot over an open flame built from wood on the ground the gods will get angry and punish them with a raging lightening storm. The culprit will be sent away from the village for a few weeks as chastisement.

There are no marriage ceremonies for the Orang Asli. They just fall in love, build a hut, and start makin' babies.

Angie exlained that there is so little privacy in the Orang Asli villages that each couple makes a whoopie shack out in the jungle. From her description it sounds more like a whoopie lean-to, but any port in a storm, right?

Each vilage has it's own Witchdoctor and a Midwife.

Angie also said they only hunt large animals to take as few souls as necessary, but really, have you ever tried to harpoon a running bunny at 500 feet with a blow gun?