Story Competition - Emporeo and Adeliet

It was one of the most critical events in the year of 1751, in Vostok, Antarctica. The Prince had arranged an annual conference to be held at his grandiose hall. Members from the two richest penguin families in Vostok, the Emportagues and the Adepulets, had flocked to the Prince’s hall to attend the conference. And this is where the story started.

In the early morning, a few hours before the meeting, two adolescents from the Emportague family, Emporeo and Krillvolio, were out waddling in the avenues of Vostok. 

“Krillvolio, have you heard today is the day that Prince Troutalus’s conference is going to be held? We must head back to the Emportague mansion and don our formal robes and tuxedos so that we’re ready before schedule!” Emporeo suggested.

“Hmm, yeah, you’ve got a point, Emporeo, it’s nearly half past eight.” Krillvolio remarked, staring at the gothic red-brick clock tower housed in the nearby cathedral. So, Emporeo and Krillvolio headed back and began changing for the special occasion.

Later, Emporeo and Krillvolio arrived just in time for the banquet at the humongous hall. Waitresses with neck frills and ballroom dresses adorned with roses and ivy charms around their frills sashayed into the dining room, carrying mouth-watering entrees including their signature prawn cocktail and creamy clam chowders. Krillvolio decided to treat himself to a little morsel of food but Emporeo decided to wait for the ladies to come waddling into the hall.

At half past ten, the males proceeded up the marble-tiled steps towards the colossal auditorium. The ladies followed suit and sat behind the males, and it was not long before the meeting was called into order by a blaring and honking of trumpets. The held-high-in-esteem Prince Troutalus, dressed in a fancy feathered chapeau, boldly sashayed onto stage and prepared his notes. Just then, something caught Emporeo’s eagle eye.

He had spotted a gorgeous female penguin sitting down the row and he immediately set his eye on her. Emporeo fervently hoped that the conference could end soon so that he could flirt and flatter with his new-found love and maybe arrange a meal with her at the Vostok Krillpub, which was just half an hour away from the Emportague mansion. However, he had one doubt. She was an Adelie penguin, which meant she belonged to the Adepulet family. The Adepulet family had always been at loggerheads with the Emportague family, and that made the market a violent landmark to visit. Every now and then, there would be an unsuspecting battle at the market between the Emportagues and the Adepulets, using pieces of scrap seafood that were cluttered here, there and everywhere. Nevertheless, he was still grateful that the conference was only one and a half hours, and he seized the chance to have a little penguin chat to the most attractive female penguin in the hall. 

“Hello, my gorgeous! You look fabulous in this outfit. Could I have the honour to treat you to a fancy dinner down at the Vostok Krillpub?” Emporeo asked politely, in the most professed sweet-talk he could manage.

“I would love to, but I’m an Adepulet and you’re an Emportague. Are you sure Old Emportague would approve? My name is Adeliet, by the way.” Asked the Adelie, in a charming feminine voice.

“Oh, sure he will. We’ll dine in secret, to be on the safe side.” Emporeo answered.

That night, Emporeo moved some of the potted plants around to create a fort. For extra privacy, he installed some black opaque sheets around the plants and purchased a humongous vertical wooden door between two of the potted plants for entry. Everything went well until Emporeo’s friend, Clamcutio, took an evening waddle around town and saw the shelter. Clamcutio smelt a rat and hurried to the Emportague mansion to tell the Old Emportague.  

“What? My son, Emporeo, dining with an Adepulet? I trusted him not to do so! He should be ashamed of himself! Clamcutio, thank you for telling me. You can come with me to the krillpub to deal with it.” Snapped the Old Emportague. Immediately after that, the Old Emportague and Clamcutio furiously stomped off in the chilling evening blizzard to the Vostok Krillpub. Just then, when the Old Emportague entered through the front door, another door popped up. The Old Emportague opened that one, only to find another one. He opened that one too, just to find yet another. The whole saga happened for about two minutes before the Old Emportague could enter. Old Emportague then snatched the golden key used for the wooden door and unlocked it. He was obviously furious when he saw what lay beneath the doors.  

“EMPOREO EMPORTAGUE! You have brought a great disgrace to the Emportagues by dining with an Adepulet, whom you know we have been rivalling with for years, yet you still breach the rules. As punishment, you shall be punished to 12 months of house arrest. Now, head back to the Emportague mansion this instance!” he snapped.  

“But, father…” Emporeo started.  

“No buts or what ifs! Head back this instance, or there’ll be trouble,” ordered the Old Emportague. Reluctantly, Emporeo sulkily headed back to the Emportague mansion and to his room.  

Later in the night at about eleven , Krillvolio had returned from a shopping spree at the apparel store and decided to visit Emporeo.  

“Why are you home so early? You usually stay up to midnight or even dawn at the nightclubs on weekends.” He queried. 

“It’s ridiculous the Old Emportague and his laws to the blame,” shrugged Emporeo.  

“He found you dining with Adeliet and sent you back early, right?” questioned Krillvolio.  

“Worse than that, he sentenced me to house arrest for twelve months!” cried Emporeo.

“What?” shrieked Krillvolio, his eyes bulging wide and his pupils enlarged.  

“He sentenced me to house arrest for twelve months!” cried Emporeo, louder still.  

“Emporeo, this is simply unfair! He has no right to sentence you when he knows you’re perfectly innocent! Come, come to my room. I shall explain my crafty but quick plan for you to meet Adeliet again,” Krillvolio said. So, Emporeo strolled across the corridor to Krillvolio’s room and then Krillvolio started their murmuring, whispering conversation.  

The next morning, the Old Emportague was awoken by a mob of Emportagues from the palace. Emporeo was attending. So was Krillvolio and Clamcutio, who had donned a very crafty disguise from the apparel shop. Adeliet was there too, and all of the 536 other penguins who lived in the colossal palace were out on the field, holding up colourful signs that screamed their point of contention, which was Emporeo’s ridiculous ban.  

“I knew I should have voiced out my punishment differently,” sighed the Old Emportague. He changed into his normal garments and ate a slice of pumpernickel bread, since he was a bit hasty that morning. Then, he opened the door out of the mansion and headed out to the field. To his horror, a humongous sign supported by sticks that were rooted in the earth and stuck to the sign using slabs of cement was mounted right before his eyes.  

“Oh, Krillvolio is definitely not going to be the next alpha Emportague. I’ll show him!” thought the Old Emportague, gritting his teeth. Emporeo had donned protective steel armour and was armed with a lance and a shield. The Old Emportague had almost no protection and no weapons, so the chances of him winning was just as likely as the chances of the Emportagues and the Adepulets agreeing to stop their incessant fighting. Thankfully, there was a basket of lances near to the fence, so the Old Emportague got the longest, sharpest one and prepared for the battle. Not long after, the cathedral clock struck eight. The duel was to start. Krillvolio charged forwards towards the Old Emportague, but the Old Emportague fought back with his lance and sent a heavy blow towards Krillvolio’s shield. However, the Old Emportague’s lance was considered blunt towards Krillvolio’s. Krillvolio managed to slice off a bit of his father’s lance, and that was when the climax began. Krillvolio and the Old Emportague did their final charge, and Krillvolio struck the Old Emportague in the heart!  

Everybody gasped. Everybody gaped. The grandiose Old Emportague had been the delight of all cognoscenti for years and was ranked as a mighty monarch, but he was no match to even his second-born son, Krillvolio. Krillvolio had defeated him, and was declared the new leader. Since Krillvolio was still in his late adolescents, he was titled “Young Emportague” and the first thing he did as Young Emportague was to lift the ban off Emporeo.  

But that was not the ending. Adeliet’s infamous, fame-craving cousin brother, Crabbalt, heard about the love affair that made his blood boil. Why? Because he was actually the guy that had proposed a marriage to Adeliet first, so he deserved to marry her, even if Emporeo loved Adeliet more than he did. He went down the street to the Monastery, which was just half an hour down from the Adepulet mansion. Friar Klam {the friar of Vostok} was reciting hymns, and Crabbalt’s timing was just right, he arrived when Friar Klam had just finished reciting the last sentence of the 536 hymns he had to perform for prayers in the afternoon.  

“Friar Klam, you know about Emporeo and Adeliet, don’t you?” asked Crabbalt.  

“Of course I do. You visit me a hundred times a week, and you tell me all the stories and news that have been going on. What has happened this time?” questioned Friar Klam.  

“Emporeo and Adeliet have fallen in love!” exclaimed Crabbalt.  

“And what’s wrong with that?” queried the friar, who had started tending to his pomegranate flowers in the monastery garden.  

“I was the one who was meant to be Adeliet’s husband! She promised me two years ago!” Crabbalt cried.  

“Okay, but then what do you think I could do to help?” asked Friar Klam, who had just got a bucket of water to sprinkle over his pomegranate flowers.  

“I beg you to concoct a sleeping potion that shall send Emporeo into a deep slumber for the rest of the year,” pleaded Crabbalt.  

Friar Klam flicked his head around, his attention distracted. “What did you say again?” he asked.  

“I beg you to concoct a sleeping potion that shall send Emporeo into a deep slumber for the rest of the year,” repeated Crabbalt, word by word.  

“I’m not really supposed to do this, you know. Abbott Crabstick will imprison me!” Friar Klam warned.  

“Oh, trust me,” begged Crabbalt.  

“If you say so,” sighed Friar Klam. He beckoned to Crabbalt and led him into his dormitory in the monastery. Then, he pressed a button. A tiny crawling corridor, big enough to fit Friar Klam and Crabbalt, appeared from an almost unnoticeable crack in the wall. Friar Klam and Crabbalt sprawled into the musty corridor, which was really narrow and stank of worm-eaten woodwork combined with the scent of rose water, vanilla and after-tobacco. It was a very mysterious aroma that wafted around. Finally, Crabbalt and the friar arrived at a wooden door swarming with holes that clustered around the surface. Friar Klam scrabbled around on the smooth but dusty marble floor. It was pitch black inside the crevice, and Friar Klam was as blind as a bat. Eventually, Friar Klam discovered the key- a rusty silver key attached to a golden ring. Friar Klam slotted the key in and turned it to the right. Immediately, the door rose up and crushed through the ceiling with a deafening boom, like the boom you get if you stand near a building that was just in order for demolishing. Friar Klam and Crabbalt sprawled inside. As they crawled further, the ceiling rose higher, and soon they were able to stand up again and waddle down. Finally, they stopped at a colossal room.  

“Welcome to my Potion Concoction Laboratory. I share the laboratory with my other four dormitory companions, but nobody knows what I do here in my spare time.” Friar Klam announced.  

“Exciting and very intriguing. What are you going to use to concoct a sleeping potion?” asked Crabbalt.  

“I’ll need 200 grams of pomegranate flower petals, 3 pieces of saffron soaked in crab brandy, half a flask of rose water, a quarter of crushed jasmine powder, a tablespoon of fish oil, a teaspoon of cod liver, one litre of Emporeo’s favourite liquor, and one litre of your favourite liquor,” replied Friar Klam.  

“Are you sure you’ve got them all?” questioned Crabbalt.  

“Of course” snapped Friar Klam. “Except the rose water. But I do have a flask of sludge water inside the cupboard, and you could boil eight withered rose petals in the sludge water to make rose water,” he added.  

“Sludge water?” asked Crabbalt, screwing up his face.  

“Yes. What did you expect?” snapped Friar Klam.  

Crabbalt was unsure of Friar Klam’s words, but he decided to play along with his game. He poured some sludge water into a wooden saucepan, poked the fire, suspended the saucepan over the fire, and poked the fire again for good measure. Then, he headed outside, found some withered rose petals, collected them and threw them into the boiling sludge water. The liquid fizzled and popped, sizzled and pooped, and at a few intervals it began to display a slight reddish hue. Finally, when Crabbalt thought he might have to wait for another three weeks for it to finish, there was a loud BANG! The rose water was finished. Crabbalt allowed it to simmer down for ten minutes, then he carefully poured the liquid into a long, narrow-headed beaker and strained it into the saucepan that Friar Klam was using. Just then, Friar Klam sniffed expertly at the liquid.  

“It needs a bit of ground sage,” he mumbled to himself. He ambled to the spice cupboard and took out the ground sage. He poured half a beaker in. Almost immediately after that, there was a slight sizzling noise and a loud crackling noise.  

“That’s not good, is it?” asked Crabbalt.  

“No, it’s just telling you that you need to pour in the liquor. Your favourite drink is oyster cognac, right?” asked Friar Klam.  

“Right. And Emporeo’s favourite is crab brandy,” answered Crabbalt. So, Friar Klam leapt onto one of the desks and climbed out of the window. Balancing tentatively, he ambled up onto the roof and opened up a hatch. It was the cellar, which contained all the liquors and tipples that Friar Klam needed for his experiments. Friar Klam received a bottle of oyster cognac and a flask of crab brandy and clambered back inside, just in time to add the two tantalising tipples.  

“Right. You’d better take cover after this!” ordered Friar Klam. They both hid underneath the desk. Immediately, the pan flew up in the sky, did a pirouette, and landed back on the stove with an abrupt clatter. Then there was a momentary silence. Then finally, a humongous BANG! BOOM! BANG! echoed in the laboratory. Friar Klam and Crabbalt arose. Immediately, the first thing they saw was a red rock in the centre of the saucepan. Friar Klam got a hammer and whacked it open without warning. The first two blows were unsuccessful. But Friar Klam then rose the hammer up to his shoulder and applied such a heavy blow to the rock that it split open. A purplish-green liquid oozed out.  

“This, Crabbalt, is my monastery sleeping potion. Now, all I have to do is get an empty flask of crab brandy and sieve the liquid inside. I’ll dress as a lady from the apparel shop, and you’ll be my assistant.” Friar Klam said. So, Crabbalt and Friar Klam put on their costumes, and the duo pretended to hobble down the street.  

Twenty minutes later, the delivery had arrived. The doorbell ding-donged continuously until Emporeo, who was a bit annoyed from the irritating sound, opened the door. “Crab brandy for 15 gold coins only! Special offer from the apparel shop!” said Friar Klam in a hoarse voice. Emporeo, being very keen on crab brandy, opened his wallet, gave out 15 gold coins, and went to store the crab brandy in the cellar.  

“He isn’t drinking it!” whispered Crabbalt.  

“Don’t worry. Sooner or later he’ll decide to take a quick nip of our sleeping potion,” chuckled Friar Klam.  

That night, Emporeo woke up at two in the morning feeling somewhat dehydrated. He unlocked the door to the cellar and took the fake crab brandy down by chance. He glugged it down, and put it back and went back to sleep. Just then, he felt a sudden pang in his webbed foot. Immediately, he plonked back down on the stairs. The next day, the Old Emportague woke up early for a meeting and found his son sprawling on the staircase.  

“Oh no! This can’t be…” he faltered. Without saying a word, the Old Emportague scampered back upstairs and informed his wife, Mistress Emportague. Not long after, the doctor was sent all the way from an unnamed town some 380 kilometres away from Vostok.  

The doctor inspected Emporeo’s condition using a tongue depressor, a stethoscope, and a cattle prod. “I’ve inspected Emporeo’s condition, and I believe he’s in a coma.” The doctor remarked.  

“Is it serious?” questioned Mistress Emportague.  

“Yes, very serious. My analysis shows that he’ll be in a deep sleep for about a month. He must have drugged himself with a sleeping potion.” The doctor answered.  

Everybody gasped. They knew Emporeo was sensible enough to know better than not to drug himself with sleeping potion. So why would he do this suddenly?  

The news spread far and wide. Eventually, it reached when a messenger brought Adeliet the news.  

“This can’t be! This is simply shocking! I’ll swim over to Vostok to persuade Friar Klam to make an antidote. Then I’ll cure Emporeo, and the Old Adepulet will be convinced enough that I can marry Emporeo.” Adeliet thought to herself. Immediately, she went downstairs, where her parents were having an oyster and crab fry for breakfast. She crept past them and headed down the stairs. In front of her sat the majestic and icy river that connected her town to Vostok. She dived in and began swimming gracefully towards Vostok. The distance shortened considerably as she accelerated through the crystal clear water. Finally, she reached land and clambered out. Even though it was early morning, Vostok was still in full swing. She scampered through the clacking of the wagons owned by the sellers of the market, who were heading to the wet market to barter and sell. However, when she got to the Emportague mansion, somebody else was there.  

It was Crabbalt!  

“Crabbalt, please give me the antidote,” she begged.  

“Tough,” rebutted Crabbalt.  

“Crabbalt, I’m sorry I fell in love with Emporeo. I promise that I’ll never fall head over heels with anybody else again except you. Please give me the antidote.” Adeliet pleaded. Left with no choice, Crabbalt handed over a miniscule bottle filled with golden-yellow liquid. Adeliet rushed into the mansion, where she found Emporeo spread-eagled on the stairs. She gently opened Emporeo’s beak using a spoon, then she poured the liquid down his throat. Almost immediately after that, Emporeo arose from his slumber.  

“Where am I?” he asked, scratching his head.  

“I’ll come back to that later. For now, Emporeo, I have something to tell you.” Adeliet replied.  

“Tell me now.” Emporeo said.  

“I am very sorry, my dear Emporeo, and I ask for your forgiveness. But I cannot marry you, since I have promised Crabbalt that I will marry him to give me the antidote to revive you from your sleeping spell. Goodbye, Emporeo, I shall see you some other day.” Adeliet said. Then, she plunged into the river and swam back to the shore on the other side of the river without uttering a word. Emporeo rushed out to try and stop her, but it was too late. She had arrived back at her family’s mansion, the Adepulet mansion, and went straight to the dining room to have breakfast.  

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and Emporeo wondered if he would ever have another chance of reuniting with his dearest love. Just then, one day as he was moping in his mansion, he heard a deafening shrill shriek from across the river! He drew the curtains and was dumbfounded by the sight that loomed like death before his gaping eyes.  

It was Adeliet and she had been captured by the Derkiners, an obnoxious, injurious, and very tenacious band of cutthroat pirate skuas that threatened to launch surprise attacks without warning. They had the audacity to attack and execute and no penguin was safe from their abductions.  

Emporeo realised that this was his chance to show his true colours, the colours of courage. The only problem was how to swing into the vessel before the Derkiners were too far from shore. Just then, an idea channelled into his cerebellum. He remembered the old swinging rope mounted on one side of the mansion that he used to love to frolic around with every day when he returned home from his crèche as a youth. He held on, pulled back and swung like the Monkey King onto the vessel of the Derkiners. He landed with a thump on the main deck, causing their captain, Captain Catcher, and his crew, Greta-Ceous Tenacious, Molly Audacity and Dave Brave to turn their heads and stare.  

“I’m Emporeo from the Emportague family of Vostok, and I’m here to rescue my beloved Adeliet from you brainless buccaneers!” he ordered, raising his dagger.  

“Brainless? Boys, launch the cannonballs! And fight back with your cutlass swords!” ordered Captain Catcher. Immediately, all of Captain Catcher’s crew launched a speeding torrent and a merciless barricade of flying cannonballs. However, Emporeo’s strong dagger fended them away and knocked them into the river. Eventually, the skuas decided that cannonballs were of no use and began lashing their swords instead. It was like a battle between Blackbeard and a rival. But eventually, Emporeo managed some good action. He stabbed all three pirates with powerful blows of his golden dagger, gleaming with victory. Just then, Captain Catcher launched a death stare at Emporeo.  

“You might have got my mates, but you’ve yet to throw me out if you want Adeliet back,” he threatened.  

Emporeo knew just what to do. He scrambled up to the cannonball shooter. Captain Catcher tried to stop him from laying a flipper on the button, but he was too late. Emporeo had launched a monstrosity of a cannonball onto the deck, causing water to flood in. He quickly untied Adeliet, then swam away from the submerging vessel and sent Adeliet back to the Adepulet mansion. Everybody had witnessed it, and in no time, it spread among the whole of Antarctica. One day, when Emporeo least expected it, the Old Adepulet called him over.  

“Emporeo.” He began. “At first I thought you were a noxious fool, but you saved my beloved daughter from being executed. Now, my perspective has changed of you. And, consequently, you’re now officially allowed to be married.” He praised, in a deep baritone voice.  

So, from that day onwards, Emporeo and Adeliet lived happily ever after. 

Written By,
Koh Chee Yuan
A Modern Adaptations of Romeo & Juliet 

Short Story - A Message From A Falcon

It was the climax of what they called “The War to End All Wars”, also known as World War I. A Lieutenant Colonel named Alexandre had entrusted his pet falcon, Bombardier, which served as his battle companion to deliver a message from Lisbon to Osaka. The message was critical for Alexandre’s cousin, Fernando, who was working as a spy in Japan. Bombardier spread his colossal wingspan and soared through the air garlanded with bright hue of grenades blasting, stench of dead bodies and stagnant water wafting out from the trenches. Bombardier nearly fainted after taking off. However, with his strong perseverance not letting fear overcome him, he managed to get on track. Alexandre had warned him that it was going to be a treacherous journey from Portugal to Japan, and had packed Bombardier a lightweight rucksack filled with bear necessities. The first part of the journey was full of barricades of gunshots blasting through the gruesome atmosphere. Bombardier was lacerated, but not severe enough to hinder his journey. He propelled himself forwards, well away from the deafening blasts. After getting the sights of misery behind him, he continued on a considerably smoother journey. At least not until he was soaring over Saudi Arabia with the glorious sun shining brilliantly over the sapphire sky. Bombardier desperately needed a rest after a gruellingly long flight, nevertheless, there were not many places to shelter in Saudi Arabia. The Middle East was in a more intense warfare than any other countries involved in the World War I.

After some consideration, Bombardier decided to make a stopover. Unfortunately, all hotels, motels and hostels were closed. The only solution was to snooze outside a nature reserve in the arid desert. Bombardier was awakened at dawn by a goliath gaggle of geese. Their leader told Bombardier he had to answer a riddle, otherwise they would scavenge all his belongings. The leader took out a mammoth book of riddles that had dust and cobwebs scattered all over it. He asked Bombardier this mind-boggling riddle, “Why is an old-fashioned radio like sizzling meat?” “It’s because they both have lots of crackling,” replied Bombardier. "Correctamundo!" cried the leader. Just then, that crackling noise they were talking about just burst out of nowhere. “A recording from our biennial celebration barbecue!” chuckled one of the geese.

Bombardier then hightailed off to vamoose from the geese just in case they tried to take away his belongings. The sunrays blazed down on Bombardier in the cerulean sky. Bombardier continued his journey in the scorching heat. Three days later, an exhausted Bombardier finally arrived at Fernando’s mobile home and delivered him the message from Alexandre. Bombardier didn’t know that disaster was going to strike at that moment. The Japanese military had discovered Fernando’s well-kept secret and sent their best sharpshooter, Santoshi, to kill him. Fernando escaped death by seconds but in his haste, he locked Bombardier in. Before Bombardier could escape, Santoshi’s bullet penetrated the mobile home and hit Bombardier, killing him instantly.

When Alexandre heard the news, he was absolutely devastated. The next day, Bombardier was shipped back to Lisbon for his funeral. Promptly after the solemn event, an overwhelmingly colossal statue of Bombardier carved out of exquisite marble was erected in front of the Belem Tower. For years, Portuguese remembered the heart-warming tale of the courageous Falcon that sacrificed his life, flying over considerably dangerous war zones to deliver a mission-critical message that saved Portugal from the war. From that day onwards, Bombardier was known as the first animal saint in the world. 

The End.

Written By,
Koh Chee Yuan  

An Escapade to Kota Kinabalu

On the 2^nd of April 2016, my parents and I were up with the lark to catch the morning flight to Kota Kinabalu, the capital of the state of Sabah in East Malaysia. Our aircraft, an old-fashioned Boeing B737-800, had no multimedia screen and no in-flight magazine. So we spent most of the time reading and taking power naps. Eventually, we touched down at the Kota Kinabalu International Airport. We then took a cab from the airport to our hotel, The Magellan Sutera Resort. We had a little bit of spare time before the check-in time at 2pm. So, we took another cab ride to the nearby Imago Mall, where we had a sumptuous lunch. We did a quick bout of grocery shopping at the supermarket before spending the rest of the day chilling out in the hotel room. The highlight of the day came in the evening, when we had dinner with my Year 1 teacher, Ms. Helen in a highly rated restaurant called Little Italy. The food was extremely delectable and we had a very satisfying feast.

The next morning after a hearty breakfast, we were picked up by a minivan from the Mari Mari Cultural Village. The journey took slightly more than half an hour because the village is located deep in the countryside away from the city. Upon arriving at the cultural village, we were greeted by our amiable tour guide. According to him, there are 32 tribal civilisations in Sabah but the cultural village only features the five major ethnic tribes. They are Kadazan (a.k.a. Dusun), Rungus, Lundayeh, Bajau, and the feared head-hunting Murut.  

Our tour kicked off with crossing a very rickety rope bridge that was swaying over a brook criss-crossed with boulders. Then, we headed to the Dusun longhouse. The guide showed us a hollow pit called tangkob and asked us to guess what its purpose is. Nearly everybody in the group said it was a well, but I gave the correct answer when I said it was a storage for their main crop - rice. When I entered their abode, I discovered another secret of the Dusun - making rice wine. The procedure is rather simple: firstly, they soak rice in water and leave it overnight. Then, they add yeast to the rice, pour it into a tiny container, and grind the mixture until it was no more than a paste. 


After that, they add flavouring to counteract any flat taste. If they wanted it bitter, they would add tobacco. Everyone, except me and a few other boys who were on the tour, sampled the rice wine. An American, named Calvin, loved the beverage so much he requested for a second serving. The guide told us that females would sleep on the top deck while males would sleep at the bottom. This was a precaution to prevent attacks from enemies who might try to abduct the girls, who were less defensive than the boys. After exiting the longhouse, we had the opportunity to taste some bamboo cooking delights by the Dusun. It was unexpectedly delicious and it gave me a totally new impression about Sabahan cuisine. 

Our next stop was the Rungus longhouse. Before entry, we got to sip some freshly-harvested honey by the Rungus. The most annoying thing was that black bees were hovering around and I was trying to swat them away. The honey, though, was utterly delectable. It seems like nature won over processed again, after all! Jokes aside, we entered into the longhouse. Unlike the Dusun longhouse, it was constructed on lower ground, and their staircase had only one tiny step. Once inside the longhouse, we were given a demonstration of fire-starting by two young Rungus men. It wasn’t rocket science at all - it only took the aid of 2 twigs and lots of friction. When the twigs were rigorously rubbed against each other, the friction converts into heat energy and eventually, there would be so much energy that the twigs would go ablaze. It is a Rungus custom that a woman could not be married until she knew how to start a fire, as fire was an important aspect of life for many tribes.

After the Rungus came the next tribe - the Lundayeh. When I read the brochure about this village, I only heard a sordid, grim history about the Lundayeh being excessive burak (rice wine) consumers causing them to suffer many diseases leading to their population declining dramatically from a flourishing 20,000 to a mere 3,000. Little did I know that, when I actually went to explore their habitat, it gave me a new impression of them. The Lundayeh’s name actually means “upriver people” in Malay. In fact, our guide said they actually resided near the riverbanks. One female Lundayeh and one male Lundayeh gave us a demonstration of rope and vest making. I can’t remember the instructions, but the American man tried on the garments and they fitted him like a glove. 

When we entered the longhouse of the upriver people, the first thing that greeted my eyes was a platter of food and a fire burning. Our guide revealed the most bewildering secret of the Lundayeh, they had a traditional ‘air-conditioner’. All of us were dumbfounded. Tribes weren’t supposed to have any modern features hanging about in their abodes! Our guide explained that if anybody in the house needed a breather from the tropical weather, they would open up the roof so that a cooling breeze could stream in. Lifting up the heavy roof was rather cumbersome, so it served as a good workout as well.  Like the Murut, the Lundayeh were also head-hunters but they weren’t as ferocious. After exiting the house, I was awestruck. Behind a wooden bench was a crocodile silhouette made out of grass! The Lundayeh people actually used the crocodile as a symbol of ferocity and it was a sign that they were invincible and defensive. It was necessary for them to trim their grass into the shape of a crocodile. If they didn’t, rivalling attackers would think they were puny and defeat them hollow. 

After the Lundayeh were the Bajau. Prior to entry, we were treated to a flaky dessert called kuih jala and some pandan juice served in tiny cones, which were prepared by two Bajau women. I didn’t try the pandan juice but I tasted the kuih jala and it was delicious! It looked like thin sugary strands tied together like a spider’s web to make a delectable Bajau delight. After enjoying ourselves, we entered into the longhouse. Upon entering, I saw a capacious room which was almost empty. Then, we moved into a lively and multi-coloured room where a majestic platform garlanded with assorted coloured carpets stood in a corner. The decorations were meant for weddings. Bajau’s wedding was very unique, the newlyweds were prohibited from kissing, hugging or touching. How strange!

The last tribe was the savage headhunters of Sabah - the Murut. On entry to the grounds of the Murut, one tribal man shrieked out loudly. Seeing him made me break out in goose bumps and cold sweat. What would they do to me when I entered? Thankfully, I only got touched lightly on my palm with a hair ruffle before being allowed entry onto the Murut’s soil. Phew! We got to try our hand at using a blowpipe with an arrow to shoot at a coconut shell before entry. Nearly all the men made it, but one lady picked up the blowpipe and surprisingly hit the coconut! What a sharpshooter! On entering the residence of the Murut, we found out one of their traditional pastimes. It was bouncing on a rattan trampoline that was constructed inside their house. At the top was a colourful figure that the men would try to hit by bouncing as high as possible to touch it. It beats me how they could do it without suffering muscular pains, but these men were fit as a fiddle. 

Before lunch, we were treated to a cultural show. Drums, gongs and chimes tinkled, banged and bonged at the start. Then, a troupe of Lundayeh women began to do a slightly sedate dance before a group of Murut men, armed with long, sharp spears, began to recreate a traditional dance with bold movements. Finally, two pairs of Lundayeh women laid sticks of bamboo on the stage. The Murut chief began dancing between each bamboo at an awesome speed. After the performance, audience were invited to join the bamboo dance, but at a much slower speed. Throughout the show, we were served lime juice from a tiny stall inside the amphitheatre. I have learnt so much about the culture and lifestyle of how these indigenous people of Sabah.

The following day, we headed off to Jesselton Point. My parents and I were going to embark on the 10.30 boat ride to Gaya Island. Since we had arrived well before departure time, we headed to an air-conditioned room that is for those sailing to Gayana Eco Resort. We were ushered down a metal ramp to our boat, Gayana 2. The boat simply chugged down at medium speed down the sea. A veritable experience for me since it was my first time on a boat on sea. Eventually, we docked at Gaya Island. We alighted from the boat and headed towards the Marine Ecology Research Centre (MERC). On the way, I stopped at intervals to take pictures of the crystal clear water with little fishes. 

 At one point I even saw monkeys frolicking and leaping nimbly on the netting! We passed by some chalets and a small swimming pool before arriving at MERC. A young lady named Vanessa greeted us and ushered us to the auditorium to watch two videos on marine conservation.

Then, we went to another hall where Vanessa told us about the process of coral bleaching and many other things about the ocean. Seven of the world’s eight species of Giant Clams are bred in MERC.

They are the tiny Boring Clam, the Smooth Giant Clam, the China or Porcelain Clam, the Elongated Clam, the Horse Hoof Clam or Strawberry Clam and the Scaly or Fluted Clam. According to Vanessa, the giant clams were under constant threat because of their limited defence skills. I learnt that the Boring Clam wasn’t called ‘boring’ because it was uninteresting and as dull as ditchwater, but because it could bore, which meant to drill holes.

After that was the Coral Tank. Vanessa told us that coral could be divided into two groups - hard corals and soft corals. The hard corals have shells made out of tough calcium carbonate and they have polyp tentacles in multiples of 6 while soft coral shells made out of a flexible protein called gorgonin and have polyp tentacles in the multiples of eight, hence giving them the name ‘octocorals’. Next we were briefed on the bleaching of corals. The corals have a symbiotic relationship with a type of algae called zooxanthellae. Zooxanthellae colours the coral and makes them attractive. When the global warming effect causes the zooxanthellae to seep out, the coral loses its colour and turns white. Any reef or ocean with coral is susceptible to such a phenomenon - even the Great Barrier Reef is succumbing to this effect.

The highlight of the visit was the Touch Tank, where I was allowed to touch and feel starfishes, sea cucumber, snails and crabs. I started off with touching a horseshoe crab. It was squirming around a bit, so I put it down quickly. Next, I moved on to the sea cucumbers. Their soft and slimy texture felt unappealing to me at first, but as I felt more of them, I slowly got used to it. Finally, I managed to feel a Chocolate Chip Starfish. It was bright red with brown bumps dotted all over it, giving it the name “chocolate chip”. The last attraction was the baby crabs. One was the miniscule Tridacna maxima at 16 months, and the slightly bigger Tridacna gerada at 24 months.

On the third morning, we headed to the airport and left Kota Kinabalu with a heavy heart. To some extent, I was glad to fly home because of the worsening haze in Kota Kinabalu. Some schools were closed for two days.  

Written by:
Koh Chee Yuan