Taman Negara is home to the world’s oldest rainforest, and unknown to many, home to a large number of Malaysia’s indigenous people. Months before my trip to Malaysia, I watched a documentary about the black presence in Asia. I was captivated by the natives of Malaysia. Their short statue, dark pigment, and Afro-textured hair was certainly far from the image I had of a typical Malaysian. I wanted to connect with these indigenous Malaysians and show the world that such people did exist. I was determined to meet them.
I booked my bus ticket from Kuala Lumpur to Taman Negara the day before. Getting the ticket was relatively easy. There were several places to purchase the ticket; I opted to get mine at the Hotel Mandarin Pacific for a feeof 75 RM ($16). Getting to Taman Negara however, was not a straight shot; from KL I was dropped off at a small town called Jerantut, which was 3 and a half hours away, and from there, I took a shuttle bus to Kuala Tembeling jetty. When I arrived at the jetty I hopped onto a motorized boat headed for Taman Negara, which took 3 hours. The ride was scenic, but entirely too long for a boat ride. Luckily, I had my headphones and a full battery on my phone to listen to a few podcasts to pass the time.
Taman Negara itself was beautiful; it was cool, calm, and lush. Due to my late arrival I was unable to see the natives so I grabbed a bite to eat at one of the many floating restaurants. I ordered freshly caught fish from the river and washed it down with a beer as I sat gazing at the scenic views that lay before my eyes.
The next morning, I started the day off with honey and cheese roti and a cup of hot tea. After breakfast I took the boat and set off to the see the indigenous people. After a 15-minute ride or so I finally arrived. I felt a sense of relief and accomplishment. My first impression was “Wow, this is like some National Geographic type stuff, bamboo homes with no modern technology.” The atmosphere was peaceful however; the natives seemed very content with their life. I was well received by the children; their big smiles made me feel at ease. The elder of this particular village greeted me, and he immediately gave me a tour of the village. Here, I learned how to make fire and their method of catching food. Although I could not communicate with the elder, I enjoyed his company; though his body language and smile, I could sense that I was welcomed. Through my bilingual guide, I asked the elder a series of questions about life in the village and learned more about their ways. At the time, my mind could not process how one could enjoy life without the luxuries of modern technology. The more I observed the village, the more I realized that happiness isn’t predicated on material goods or wealth. Here was a group of people that did not have to worry about taxes, mortgages, or paying bills; they lived in tune with nature and enjoyed life to the fullest. I soon realized that this was the true meaning of life.
After an hour or so, I parted ways with the villagers and made my way back onto the boat. On the ride home I was overcome with a sense of happiness. At last, I finally made it. To think that a guy from a small town in the U.S. was able to connect with some indigenous Malaysians in an isolated jungle was truly humbling and inspiring.
