Jelawung Jungle ? Peninsular Malaysia

February 23, 2001

I woke up at 4:00 a.m. and strapped on the new sandals that I’d bought at Bata Shoe for 80 Ringgit Malaysia ($35 CDN at an exchange of $1 to 2.30rm) then organized a small pack for the trip to base camp, leaving my other things in the village.

Boarding the ?Jungle Railway,? I was expecting a train out of Schindler’s List or something, but got a rather comfortable train with air conditioning. So much for mystique!

The train ride cost 4.30rm and we expected to arrive in Dabong at 8:55 that morning, three and a half hours after our departure from Wakaf Bharu. The sky was still dark and I hoped that I could get some good photos before it was time to get off.

I sat across from a Muslim man who had been praying for the last half hour, turning in his seat in prayer position gazing out toward God, then crossing the aisle to repeat his prayer on the other side. With the most compassionate and eerily entrancing singing voice of prayer that gave chills as I listened, the man sat before me entirely full of faith.

In Penang, I visited a remote Buddhist temple where only locals were present (and few at that). Standing amongst a vast array of plaques, statues, and tributes, I was witness to one of the few temples attached to a monastery where, clothed in Buddhist cloth, the locals prepare the afternoon meal.

One man sitting in the full lotus on a nearby bench could be heard clacking away with some sort of instrument held in his right hand. Sitting down to examine the instrument, I saw that it resembled wooden spoons. Sitting there for the next 20 minutes or so, he began drumming a beat?his right hand holding the spoons, his left keeping time on his lap as he sang hymns with an air of discipline and focus.

Within five minutes, feeling as though I was part of the music, I began to go into a trance and my eyes began to water. I felt both suffering and joy in the voice of his prayers. It is truly amazing how, even with language barriers, an emotional heartfelt voice can be understood.

At last, I made it! Jelawung Jungle. I caught the jungle train at 5:15 a.m. and arrived in Dabong four hours later. As I walked around town, the local children hoarded into large packs for protection from the unusual human presence while a crescendo of ?Hello!? boomed from the pack. With my response, their faces beamed with delight.

The children continued their language assault of basic English phrases, such as ?Where are you from?? ?What’s your name?? ?How are you?? Answering seemed futile over the chorus of giggles and the astonishment of the group when I responded. The older people looked on as though I was an alien that had just landed to abduct their children for experiment.

Eventually, a local boy of maybe 17 gave me a ride on his motorbike to the boat that would connect me to Jelawung. Arriving at the ?boat? (constructed of a hollowed-out log and a small outboard motor), we watched the boat driver as he went full throttle against the current upstream then coasted back down, completing a massive arch the length of a football field in order to go from one side to the other (1rm for the boat crossing).

When I got to the other side I immediately saw a monkey, the first wild one I had ever seen!

I was offered a taxi ride to the village some 10 kilometres away but said that I would walk. Within a few kilometres, another boy stopped with his motorbike and drove me directly to my starting point for the ascent to 1,500 feet and ?Baha’s Base Camp.?

The walk (climb) was at times exhausting, especially while I was unsure of exactly where I was going. Prior to my departure a tour guide friend had drawn me a pencil map that resembled the old treasure maps I saw in Indian Jones?and just as you’d expect, X marked the base camp.

As an aside, the butterflies in this particular jungle were absolutely mesmerizing and I could often be seen lying within my hammock watching them fluttering through the mist of the waterfall that was the backdrop of my cabin. Some of the butterflies were largely black, dotted with brown on top and light green and blue on either side of the bottom. Wow!

With a good idea of where the path was, an hour of trekking passed by, leaving me to wonder if I had lost the path and would be left out in the jungle to be found days later by a search party (funny what the mind does). Within minutes the fear of being left out in the jungle alone was eclipsed by the sound of a waterfall. Thinking that I had walked a circle back to the start of the falls, I halted and contemplated turning around, but continuing the ascent gave rise to a blue tarp seen through thickets of bamboo and when I got closer the sign said ?Baha’s Camp.? I had made it!

As I entered the camp I heard ?Hello, Brian. Welcome!? and seated in their makeshift kitchen were some local friends from the city that had gone up to visit Baha.

The place was stunning. My friends fixed me a cup of coffee and after a brief introduction to Baha I was given the most amazing tiny bamboo hut that was built on the edge of the pool that gathered an immense amount of water falling from above; the mist from it would drape my cabin in dew for the next three months.

From my 10rm bungalow and my hammock I would lay listening to the sounds of the jungle, with the highest waterfall in South East Asia literally at my feet. Up there on the first of three large tiers that make up this waterfall, I wondered how to put into words what life had become before my very eyes. It would take some time to put into words the next three months, but upon my initial arrival all that came to mind was stunning, simple, sound, silence, and solitude!

Making wise choices for the future means being informed.

These films and others are available online at Google video.

Over dinner in South Korea, a Canadian friend of mine proposed the idea of becoming an Athabasca University student, a concept that was foreign to me. An education offered online? This all seemed perfect for my lifestyle and it turned out to be true!

Two-and-a-half years and seven countries later, I had completed my bachelor of arts in Management and had started running my own business online and in the ?real? world.

Reflecting on the experience with AU has given me a new-found appreciation for what is possible in life when we are determined to believe in ourselves and devote our passion to a direction that betters ourselves. I find most of the difficulty arises with the balance of Eastern philosophy and Western economy. In other words, being able to live in the Western world while not being consumed by material desires and demands.

AU gave me the freedom to accept some Western responsibility while travelling where my heart wanted to be. Oftentimes in my past I had found the Canadian education system to be restrictive and I was constantly torn between the expected and the desired paths; a push against a force that was stronger than me. After completing two diplomas in community college I had practically burst at the seams from study overload and decided to travel the world. Four years later, the education system would catch up to me again when I was required to obtain my degree from AU.

How would I follow my dreams of travelling the globe and still pursue a higher education? AU was there.

The freedom to roam with textbook in hand was a liberating combination of education and travel. Days were spent living among the people of Asia, experiencing the sights and sounds of a world I had previously known in other lives yet hadn’t experienced in this. I would take my notes to a restaurant or café and prepare for a session of studying. The locals would stand near to look over my shoulder, searching for a word that would jump out as familiar to them. They would stare at the papers for what seemed an eternity, and I would take moments out to ponder what must be going on in their minds. ?The writing looks so foreign?; ?I wonder if it is English?; ?Why is he reading that in my restaurant?? were some of the thoughts I had.

Nights were spent under some odd lighting arrangements or by candlelight. I remember lying in my hammock on the porch of a bamboo hut, while the ocean spray would dampen my text and I would think to myself, ?If this is university, then this is something I can handle!? The hours would creep on and the world within the pages of the text would become other-worldly, like a distant memory of a world I had left behind but was still connected to through the subject on the pages.

Flights were another perfect time for studying. This afforded dedicated periods of time, ranging from six to 13 hours at a stretch, where the occupants of the vessel would kill time by watching movies, reading papers, sleeping, or strolling the aisles when the fasten seatbelt sign was off. For me it was a refuge from the intensity of travel; a refuge from the locals watching, from the distraction of the surroundings trying to take you away from studying. There in the plane it was a time of solace and the ability to escape. What else was I to do but study? The more studying I could do on the plane, the more time I could use to see the sights and experience the sounds at the next destination.

Delving into a textbook often meant delving into the mentality of the Western world, of government organizations and the to-do list of an international manager. But as the eyes left the page it was as though a veil of secrecy had been lifted.

There I was in Asia, living the life that was vaguely explained within the textbook, seeing the way people lived, which gave me the practical experience to understand the written word.

Standing with textbook in hand, open to the pages of the trials and tribulations of the 1997 Asian Crisis, the collapse of markets, and the ensuing struggle to repay debts, I was actually there in the affected country. I was able to look into the faces of the people there, to see the light and love of those that seemed to have so little. I paused and it hit me. The pages spoke of numbers and legalities but now I was seeing the effect on the actual people.

AU was freedom to me. I was able to accept the responsibility of education while embracing the real-world dynamics.

Eastern plains meet Western thought. The ultimate education.