Borneo

Let’s talk about Borneo. Sounds exotic, right? Like maybe somewhere Indiana Jones would visit to steal a golden monkey or something?
Borneo is a giant island in between in the South China Sea and the Indian Ocean, split up in ownership between Indonesia, Malaysia, and a little country called Brunei, the last being the remnants of a now crumbled pre-colonial kingdom. The jungles of Borneo are still wild, native cultures are still present, some of them largely untouched by the hand of modernisation. Well, I didn’t find any golden monkeys or anything, but a few weeks ago I touched down on the island of Borneo in a city called Kuching (which literally means “cat”). Yes, in the city of Cat I got to see a completely different side of Malaysia. In this place, there is quite a bit more development, complete with malls, highways, traffic jams, and fast food as well as a much greater degree of racial diversity. The average level of English proficiency is quite good, and the people there feel distinctly modern in their attitudes and opinions. In short, it is rather like going from the rural heart of the Deep South to San Francisco.
I flew into the gorgeous airport with my good friend Sandhya, another English teacher from my program, to attend the Rainforest World Music Festival. There were groups from almost every corner of the planet playing amazing music for three days. The festival was near a beach and rainforest resort north of the city and hosted thousands of people from around the world who had come to enjoy and celebrate all kinds of different cultures. The journey took almost on hour, and although the roads were straight and smooth, as we got farther and farther away, irregularly shaped mountains started to march closer from the horizon and jungle on the sides of the road grew thicker. The housing developments disappeared, and then the road started to wildly curve and narrow.
When the bus finally stopped, we were at the bottom of a green tooth-shaped mountain standing in the back of a huge crowd of people waiting in messy lines to get in. The crowd, however, did not feel Malaysian. Almost every major race was present. Guys wore jeans and t-shirts, and almost none of the women were covering their heads. In fact most covered very little, which took a little getting used to. Security felt like an airport, and once inside, people chatted in more languages than I have ever heard together in my life. Among the traditional wooden buildings used by the locals, there were hundreds of plastic white tents set up on clusters and rows through a series of clearings. Right next to an Iban longhouse, which used to provide shelter for an entire community, a giant inflatable Heinenken bottle subtly suggested an activity to help everyone get along.
In one of the clearings, two very tall trees, both equally tall and thick, stood on one edge as it began to slope up the mountain. In between hung a roof packed with stage lights, and below, a small stage was lit in bright green. Down the hill and to its left, a stage that looked like it had been air-lifted from the Super Bowl halftime show was swarming with techies. This was where the action happened.
Here, bands from almost every corner of the world gathered and music from Iran, America, the United Kingdom, Vietnam, Madagascar, Borneo, Zimbabwe, Russia, Poland, Afghanistan, Peru, Chile, Australia, Canada, Scotland, and Italy entertained nearly ten thousand travemomentslers from around the globe. I was privileged to be one of them. The music was amazing, with instruments that I had never seen before in my life, some of which I will probably never see again.
A few worthy-to-remember moments:

-After the bands performed, they would often mix with the crowd at the food stalls and were both approachable and friendly. If you wanted to just thank them for coming, or even have an extended conversation, they were usually open and available. No bodyguards. No adolescent swarm. They were like regular people, with the exception of course that they had just entertained a crowd almost the size of my hometown.

-As I was getting some food one night, a new band starting playing from Washington state. They called themselves the Foghorn Stringband, and consisted of a bunch of middle-aged men playing a stand up bass, a banjo, a guitar and a mandolin. Now, my own father plays in a band with those same characteristics, and I started listening with my family to Bluegrass music while I was still in the womb. To come across the planet, to Malaysian Borneo, and hear the exact same music you grew up with is strange and at the same time comforting. Maybe the world isn’t so big after all.


-As the bluegrass band was playing, a flying squirrel glided a from one side of the audience to the other, finally landing on a tree on the outer edge of the clearing. You know you are in the rainforest when...

-Even though there were bands from around the world, some of them from countries that do not get along, no political statements were made and I saw no signs of conflict whatsoever, not even as the night went on and a few perhaps drank more than their share.


-Smaller afternoon sessions were held in a few buildings during the day. These workshops gave the audience a chance to learn more about each musical genre, and sometimes even participate in a drum circle or a jam session. You simply can’t do that with famous commercial band, and the music was arguably better.


-The food was absolutely amazing although expensive. There was cuisine from almost every Asian nation, as well as a few authentic burger stands and even a sub shop. There it would be perfectly feasible to take a tour of the immediate world without travelling more than a few meters, but you might have a put on more than a few pounds. Apparently, most of the world is united in tasty deep-fried food.

-Out of a crowd of ten thousand, I met one American. Only one. Either we are all pretending to be Canadian these days, or we just aren’t traveling very much.
Now, if you ask me, it would be better for all Americans to travel at a time when our minds are still open and we don’t have the responsibilities of a family or specialised career as of yet. I have met a few British students in my time here that are doing something called a “gap year.” In between high school and university, these students take a year or so to travel and see another part of the world before they really decide what they want to do. I wish now that I had done something similar before choosing my major. Perhaps my career opportunities would look dramatically different and I would have had the time to reflect on what I really want. I loved what I studied, and I will most likely have a future in the sciences, but then again I loved almost all of my classes. I wonder if I would have concentrated on something else had a been given a chance to see what I am seeing right now.
At any rate, I think that the American public in general would be less likely to make political and ethical decisions with a narrow view of the world and its people, as well as better understand our role in that world. For example, if the majority of high school age students travelled to a less developed part of the world, not only would they be less likely to take the many privileges we have at our disposal for granted, but they would probably understand a little but more about what the face of the rest of the world looks like. It might help to see people living happily on a small fraction of the average American income, or a comfortable and convenient life without a car. More importantly, I think it would help everyone to see that there are other ways of living life where people are just as happy, sometimes even more so. I have said this before, and I will say it again: the U.S. is a great country, and we should be proud of what and who we are, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t learn and benefit from other ways of doing things. We simply have to go out there and see some of these things for ourselves. For those of you who read this in hopes of travelling abroad one day, or if perhaps you are in college right now and are unsure about the next step of your life and career: travel! There are a million places to go, and a million ways to do it. It will seriously be one of the best things you will ever do with your life.