RBJTimban’s Crib

1987 – Upon reaching the little town of Song in the Kapit division, Sarawak, I was struck with awe. “Here I am, Song” I talked to myself. I ascended the wharf steps sluggishly. It wasn’t the heavy luggage that weighed me down, but my head was full of questions I myself could not answer. I was not alone in Song. Wan M was also there. He was also new to Song. Fortunately, we came to Song with another junior trainee who was a Songite. His house was near the wharf area so we reached his house in about 10 minutes walk from the wharf. Thus Wan M and I felt rather comfortable in the new and strange town.

That night I was told that the headmaster of my new school was also a Songite whom our junior trainee friend knew very well. He was (the late) Mr John P. I felt a bit happy but there were many unanswered questions in my head. How should I introduce myself to the headmaster the next day? That night we slept late and once in bed I had the trouble of getting asleep.

The following morning, Wan M and I hurriedly to town so that we could meet our new bosses. The first thing in our mind was to look for a Muslim coffee shop to have our breakfast. We were unsure for how long it would take us to meet our bosses. Our breakfast was silent whilst the bustling coffee shop. After the breakfast, Wan M and I went straight to the wharf to look for signs of our new bosses. At this point, I thought I must brave myself asking stupid questions at anyone who berthed their boats at the wharf. I have to have that courage.

After sitting for a moment, I was very fortunate to bump into a stranger and asked him a question – “Which direction is Sekula Nanga Dalai?”. The person replied, “That way”, as he pointed to the right down the Rajang river.

“Why?” He asked me back, “Are you going to go to Sekula Nanga Dalai?”

“Yes”, I replied. “I am looking for the school’s headmaster”.

He smiled and said, “Well, I am the headmaster”.

I almost jumped with excitement but I kept it to myself…

… My first year teaching after completing my 3 years teacher training at Maktab Perguruan Rajang, Bintangor, Sarawak. My wife and my 4 year old Theodore followed me to the school around April that year. Our living quarters was very simple. It had a kitchen cum dinning space and a sleeping space. There were no sitting rooms or washrooms. We had to take our bath by the stream about 50 meters away from the house. There were also no TV or radio.

Despite without any TV or radio, we were a bit content. In the evening after dinner, there was nothing much to do at home. My son had a lot of toys around the small living space to play with until he was too tired. My wife was occupied with her crocheting. As for me, I would join the other teachers to fish in the stream. That was how we spent our evenings in the school. Catches were sometimes good and at other times each one of us could only manage to bring home about several hundred grams. Oh! I didn’t mention the fishing technique, did I? We used small harpoons, goggles, flashlights, and drift nets to fish. One would have to dive to catch fish or prawns. On weekends, we would bring along our families either down or upriver for both picnic and fishing. With the ladies coming along, they too had their own fishing techniques. The used woven fishing baskets to scoop their catch. Their fishing spot were usually knee deep cataracts. One would place the basket facing upstream and then move the pebbles and rocks around. This would scare off any small fish or prawns from their hideouts thus get caught in the basket. (What a lengthy description!!)

June, 1987 – My wife, son, and I went home (to Betong) for the Gawai Dayak holiday. My wife was pregnant and she was due to deliver around July or August. We had planned for the child birth to be in Betong, as there was only one rural dispensary near the school. I hadn’t the gut to take care of her on my own here in the school. The journey back home took us almost 5 – 6 hours. One boat ride, one express boat ride, and a bus ride, then we are in Betong. We were exhausted but were also excite.

After the Gawai Dayak I had to go back to Song – alone.

20 September 1987 – My wife gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She named the baby Fionula Connie Duie. Duie was my maternal grandma. As I was not around when the baby was born, I ‘missed’ the opportunity to name the baby ‘Theresa’ as I had told her earlier. I intended to ‘retain’ the letter ‘T’ in her name, as also in ‘Theodore’, her elder brother. The letter ‘T’ was supposed to signify my dad’s second name. Anyway, I did not mind so much with the baby’s name. As she was a girl, so let her be different from her elder brother, or may be, brothers, in future!

That year too, I was among a few other teacher sat for the July Bahasa Malaysia Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia exam. It was an effort to obtain a credit to enable us to be appointed and confirmed into our service. My service category then was “C4 Trained (unconfirmed)”. Once we obtained a credit, the department would appoint and confirm us to “C2″ category.

December, 1987 – received the SPM result. I obtained an ordinary pass. I was quite frustrated, as I couldn’t go any further with an ordinary pass. I promised to myself that I would try even harder next year (1988).

1988 – my 2nd year in SK Nanga Dalai, Song. Not much changes in the school admin. I was appointed as one of the school warden to look after kids in the boarding houses from early morning till late night. The kids were quite easy to look after, as they did not have much influence from the ‘outside world’. They wore simple attire yet they were happy at all times.

June 1988 – It was Gawai Dayak again and my family and I had to make another yearly trip back home to Betong. That year’s Gawai I had to give way to my wife’s request to celebrate the occasion at her parents’ house in Buloh Antu, Padeh. The celebration was a wonderful one. We really enjoyed ourselves. Our little Dara (Fionula) was about 9 months old. The June holiday then was a short one. So, on the 2nd of June we had to go back to my mum’s place in Betong, as we had to go back to Song on the 3rd June.

July 1988 – I had to sit again for the SPM BM July paper which I failed last year. There was speculations on July paper. It was harder to pass as compared to sitting for a full certificate SPM. Whether true or likewise, I had to put in more effort this year.

December 1988 – Once again, the SPM BM result was issued. I obtained an ordinary pass. What a fate, I thought.

1989 – My 3rd year in one of Song’s oldest schools, SK Nanga Dalai. Three years was like a decade. I still could not suit my ‘lifestyle’ to living in remote area like this. Our main mode of transport was by river. The electric supply was a portable generator set which we ran from 6 p.m. till 10.00 p.m. daily. Our water sources were either gravity feed, river water or rain water. During dry seasons, the gravity feed water failed to provide sufficient water to the school. Pipe leaks were common, and we had to do the plumbing job ourselves. That year I told my wife and our kids that I was applying for transfer back to our home town – Betong. I could not bear to let my aging mum live so far away from us. My younger siblings are still depending on her small pension. Another ‘annoying’ factor was the unavailability of proper clinics near the school. My kids were still young and ‘fragile’ thus made life felt difficult then. It was mentality or perception on the situation.

October, 1989 – I received an approval of transfer back to Betong. I was offered to serve in SK Nanga Spak, Betong. The journey to the school was about an hour ride by gravel road from Betong town. I jumped with excitement when I received the letter. I rushed back to our quarters and told my wife the news. She was happy too. By late November, our family left SK Nanga Dalai Song and headed to Betong. Moving the whole lot was no small matter. We had to bring many things – including some poultry and a cat!