Journalism // Heart of Light (SUITCASE Magazine Vol. 23)

  • Olivia Squire

Working in tandem with the tourist board and Royal Brunei Airlines, I arranged a trip for myself and the photojournalist Emily Garthwaite to the island of Borneo. We travelled through floating villages, primary and secondary rainforest, island resorts and mountain villages in search of how tourism is impacting this fragile ecosystem, encountering forest elephants and the elusive wild orangutan along the way. The final article was published in the summer 2018 edition of SUITCASE Magazine, The Adventure Issue.

"Snapping the clasp of my borrowed backpack around my waist, tightening the bow on my emerald-green “leech socks” and struggling into my too-new hiking boots, I feel a thrill of anticipation. Although my hastily assembled adventurer get-up may look more Nineties-fitness-instructor-slash-insect-exterminator than intrepid jungle explorer, I’m finally mere moments away from trekking into the depths of the Borneo rainforest in pursuit of the famed wild orangutan.

However, my outfit is destined to remain pristine a little longer. As Emily and I stroll along the boardwalk of our lodge chattering excitedly, I suddenly stop dead in my tracks and grip her arm.

“EMILY! ORANGUTAN!” There, casually clambering up a tree next to a luxury eco-villa is a male orangutan whom I later learn is called Son. Seemingly oblivious to the herds of camera-toting tourists legging it towards him, Son settles into the branches and begins methodically stripping away long curls of bark, licking them like lollipops in search of juicy ants. I laugh at the way he regards each one laconically post-lick before disinterestedly dropping it to the ground, giving the small crowd of slack-jawed humans below a disparaging stare.

“Er, do you think this is a G&T moment?” Emily asks. I order a tray to be brought outside and we sit cross-legged for almost two hours, sipping icy gins and watching Son swing through the branches. The trek is forgotten."
"I awake the next morning to a pale-blue mist swirling over the water’s surface, which we cut through as the sun rises. I’m lulled almost back to sleep as we cruise past snow-white egrets, oversized storks and trees whose branches are full of macaque, proboscis and silver lead langur monkeys. A sudden commotion of boats alerts us to the presence of a mother and baby orangutan, our first truly “wild” orangutan sighting. Partially obscured, they languorously crash from tree to tree.

It seems we’re on a roll as we then encounter a yellow and black-flecked saltwater crocodile slithering into the murky water, followed by a herd of adult and baby pygmy elephants crunching through vegetation on the riverbank. The thwacking sound as they snap each branch is like a game of tennis, interspersed with trumpeting and the hiss of water being sprayed from their waggling trunks. Even as I feel a rumbling of concern at the tens of boats just a few metres away, the fizzing joy of seeing these curious creatures in the wild is hard to contain."
"Our accommodation is a simple bamboo structure built by the villagers and cooled by the air that flows through its open sides. After a quick meal of fried wild ginger, papaya and local vegetables Mr Saidin drives us to the nearby rice paddies where I meet Allan Zinkler, a native Australian and previously a farmer, surgeon and scientist. Over sweet rambutan fruit he tells me how he is pioneering new agricultural techniques for organic rice farming so that the community can benefit from the profits and how he plans to build several eco-villas overlooking the fields. I sink barefoot into the warm mud of the paddy almost up to my knees and plant tiny reeds into the quagmire. Later that night we drink home-made rice wine as Mr Saidin regales us with local legends of lovers and warriors.

On our final morning in Sabah Mr Saidin takes us on a walk through the shimmering heat to his village, where we learn how to pound rice grains, tap a rubber tree and play the gongs with his elderly mother, her feet swinging inches above the ground from a pink chair. It’s incredibly peaceful and I feel as if I’ve finally voyaged into the true heart of Borneo – a place where the water buffalo trim the village grass and a balance between tourism and nature is being sought. At times being here has felt like a sad reminder of how much damage has already been done, with the rawest areas of rainforest seeming more like museums amid the encroaching sprawl of plantations. While there are undoubtedly challenges ahead as Borneo navigates the path between economic growth and environmental decline, I can only hope that eventually, the jungle will win through."