COMMENT I arrived in Mudung Abun, the cloud-in-the-mountain village in the Balui region of Kenyah land in Sarawak on the afternoon of Dec 31, 2013. Recent maps would show this as the Belaga district of Sarawak. My hosts, the Peligid Bit family, have for generations lived in these lands in Belaga, the heart of Sarawak.

Belaga was known as Kenyah country, before the era of Rajah James Brooke, as the Kenyah had ruled  Belaga centuries before colonisation by the White Rajahs. The Kenyah resisted the rule of Rajah Brooke and were the last indigenous community to agree to a peace deal, on Nov 16, 1924.

The journey to Mudung Abun had taken me through bumpy, pothole-filled roads continuously damaged by timber lorries and palm oil tankers. I passed through acres and acres of oil palm plantations, which were once extensive tropical forests matched nowhere else on Earth, and choice land belonging to the indigenous communities.

The many rivers, including the mighty Rajang that flows through Belaga, are muddy and dull because of the extensive logging and plantation development.

Several members of the Bit family, including  matriarch Oko Ligid Bit ( above, left in picture ), welcomed me with a meal of  aromatic chicken cooked with coconut milk. The leafy vegetables grown in their farms were prepared in Kenyah style and the rice was from delicious hill paddy, cooked over wood fire.

Cold mountain water

An afternoon drizzle fell over Mudung Abun. I drink in the scenes. The cloud drifted over the mountain, which is about 3,000 feet above sea level. Covered with dense forests, the mountain provides water to the village through a piping system installed by the community.

Access to potable water is a fundamental basic right of all citizens and 50 years after the formation of Malaysia, this right still remains on the election wish list of the indigenous communities.

A cool afternoon breeze wafted. My watch showed the end of 2013 to be just hours away. Bath rituals are traditional ways in many cultures to welcome the New Year. I enjoyed a bath with buckets of icy cold water from Mudung Abun. It was exhilarating and I was ready to welcome 2014.

Oko Ligid Bit and her friend Oko Yang ( right, in picture ), 92, join me as I watch the sun set in Mudung Abun. We want to have a conversation but they speak Kenyah and hardly any Bahasa Malaysia.

Using sign language, I soon pick up more than 30 essential Kenyah words and started my own dictionary. The nods and laughter from Oko Yang and Oko Ligid assured me I was communicating with them.

Men were returning from hunting and fishing and women were in the kitchens preparing for two more meals – a dinner before the church service and for the “Pot Bless” community meal to celebrate the dawn of 2014.

The young  were playing games with their 1Malaysia iPads. Internet access is still a dream. Soon I realise this is Celcom territory and am unable to SMS or call on my Maxis number.

So close to Bakun, but no access to electricity

The darkness came early and my attention turned to electricity. The micro hydro, funded by the Global Environment Fund (GEF) was being fixed as heavy rains had caused some problems with the piping. Most houses have generators too, but these are used just for two or three hours only, because of the exorbitant petrol prices.

Mudung Abun is the village closest to the highly controversial  Bakun dam. The electrical grid passes through the village but this Kenyah village does not have access to the electricity!

Putrajaya spent RM180 million in 2012 to maintain and operate government jets for official trips and of this, RM14.95 million was spent on fuel alone. How much would it cost to provide electricity to a few longhouses close to Bakun dam?

God, constellation of the stars or just luck was on the side of the village to herald in a lit-up New Year. The micro hydro resumed working and electricity was ensured for a long celebration. I was invited to dinner at the home of another member of the Bit family.

Interestingly, visitors and family members began enjoying a New Year special on Indonesian TV. The show was a celebration of diversity – songs and dances from India were the favourite of my dinner hosts.

The values and culture of a society help us to understand why establishing places of worship, such as churches, temples, monasteries, mosques and synagogues, are important for the communities. Religion is, in most of our societies, the source of rules and principles.

As such, the New Year’ Eve service in our national language Bahasa Malaysia, filled with Christian songs, prayers, testimonies and the pastor’s sermon, reflected the faith of the community in God, universal values and spirituality by underscoring the importance of living ethical lives.

That the New Year is an opportunity to become a better and new human being, the importance of education, community and protection of the environment were emphasised. Parents, relatives and friends prayed over all children who will be in school on the second day of the year.

A Kenyah feast, without a drop of alcohol

When the clock struck 12, a modest amount of firecrackers were let off to bring a festive air to the New Year. We adjourned to the longhouse, where families have laid out, on the verandah, many varieties of food, buffet style.

The Kenyah cuisine is fresh and natural. The Kenyah are producers of the food grown on their land, which they have protected for centuries through sustainable farming methods. The red rice was delicious, as were the fresh vegetables from the forests.

I have never had such mouth-watering papaya flowers, cooked without a trace of bitterness.  Meats were prepared in gravy or served as part of a soup. The small fiery chillies braised with large onions fuelled one’s appetite. There was even fish from Bakun that was barbecued. No alcohol was served, as required by their faith.

To flavour some of the dishes, a herbal food enhancer indigenous to the area was added. The women who had laboured preparing the fresh, splendid food shared with me some of the secrets of Kenyah cooking.

I am not divulging this knowledge, for I believe we need to protect the intellectual property rights of our indigenous peoples, their knowledge about the plants, herbal medicines and so on. The Kenyah are producers of food and their land is their identity.

We then went on to music and dance to welcome the New Year. The Kenyah are very musical people and they sing and dance beautifully. The men performed the kancet, a Kenyah warrior dance in full gear, accompanied by music from the sampe, a Kenyah musical instrument.

Their movements were as graceful as a flying bird. The women, too, danced very well and 92-year-old Yoko Ligid is an excellent dancer, I am told. With some coaching, I tried a few steps - but I was no flying bird!

The celebrations came to an end at 3am.

The universality and spirituality of the celebrations of the Kenyah people of Mudung Abun in welcoming 2014 is a reminder that we can, together, make Malaysia a better place for everybody, regardless of race, ethnicity, religion or social and economic status.

But importantly, we must be part of their struggle for their rights to their land, identity and culture. Let us remember between 1860 and 1890, was an incredible period of violence, greed and audacity when the culture and civilization of the American Indian was destroyed. It was at that time the traders, steamboat pilots, gold seekers, gamblers, gunmen, cowboys, harlots came... - Dee Brown’s Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee .

JOSIE FERNANDEZ is a researcher, social activist and an Asian Public Intellectual Fellow.