Sabah Trip cont.: Water Village Characters

Bajau Man
We talked to a number of people in the village. Everyone had an interesting story, that contributed to the history of this place. A history that was not short (some people had lived here over 30 years), and filled with lively experiences.

There was the Bajau man, who carefully cleaned his knife in preparation for cleaning some fish for lunch. Bajau knives are famous for their practicallity and deadliness. The man's blade was typical, gleaming sharp with frequent tending, black handle wrapped with rope for a tighter grip.

Did he catch the fish himself? asked K, as he snapped the man's picture. I translated.

No, the man said, I bought them at the fish market in KK.

Further talk revealed that he worked as a temporary construction worker: pouring concrete, stacking bricks, and such labors. K and I had worked in construction before, and we knew of these temporary laborers. They went from site to site, one day with work, one day without, and was only paid on the days they worked. There were no benefits, no retirement funds, no security.

I can't afford a concrete house, said the man, so I live here on the water. But he seemed accepting of this, and mentioned that at least it was cooler on the water.

We didn't stay to watch him cook the fish on the big fire he'd prepared. He sent us off with a friendly warning of the crumbling walkways.

100-year-old Man
We moved on and found a group of people sitting in front of another house. An old man carefully cut beans into a pot, while his family gathered around him.

How old is he? asked K as he snapped a picture. I translated the question.

A hundred years old, said one of the kids who followed us. The old man did not lift his head.

K and I both exclaimed at his age and physique, he was in pretty good condition. After we chatted for a few minutes, the old man lifted his head, smiled and agreed that he was in good condition.

They were also Bajaus, and had been here for many years.

K mused that it was amazing that someone could live to a hundred in these conditions. Is poverty actually more conducive to long life? Less indulgence in over-eating, drinking, and all sorts of debilitating luxuries? Maybe.

We left them to their lunch and moved on.

Chat on Stoop
It was blazing hot, and we had nearly gone around the entire village. We wanted to get off the water, and move inland. But the villagers warned us of possible muggers there, so we turned back.

A woman invited us to get out of the sun and sit on her stoop. We did, and the entourage kids collapsed around us. They were probably hot from following us around as well. Most people who live in the tropics don't enjoy the sun much, and try to keep out of it as much as possible. Too much of a good thing sometimes.

I chatted with the woman as K wandered around taking more pics. Here was another story. She had lived there for over thirty years. Her husband had two wives, she was the first wife. She'd had eleven children, but three had died. The youngest was barely three years old.

Her grandchild was also about three-years-old. She laughed when I commented on how close in ages they were. My daughter's doing family planning, she said, but I'm not.

I didn't understand at first, but eventually realized she meant birth control. It is difficult to raise so many children when the paycheck's scarce and unreliable.

K had been curious about where their fresh water came from, so I asked her whether they had a well inland?

No, said she, we get it from KK in barrels, the price is RM4.50 a barrel. I use a barrel up in two or three days: for cooking, cleaning, washing. My kids all need to bathe at least twice a day in this heat.

I knew now why the kids were so clean. They had moms like these, who devotedly took care of them despite the lack of resources. I guess in that sense, they were luckier than some unfortunate kids.
(to be continued...)