Batang Ai

We spent last weekend at Batang Ai where there is a tribal longhouse "resort" run by Hilton Hotels of all people.  Lots of Sue's fellow mentors were there and we had a very chilled time walking, swimming, eating and generally hanging out.  The resort is in a remote spot on the edge of a large reservoir near the Indonesian border and can only be reached by a twenty minute ferry trip from the nearest road, adding to the sense of peace and isolation.  On our first morning we got up to see and hear the dawn and in the jungle above the resort found the grave of a Headman of a longhouse.  In the early morning light surrounded by the jungle, a rope bridge and the deafening dawn chorus of birds and insects, the spot had a mysterious and melancholy air and I felt sad that the grave was now a tourist sideshow rather than a place of veneration.

When we got back from our weekend I did some research and found out that the reservoir is part of a hydro-electric project constructed in the early 1980s which flooded some 21,000 acres of land and led to the relocation of more than twenty Iban longhouses.  Many older people it is said never really recovered from the pain of losing access to their tribal lands and the graves of their ancestors. The improved access roads to the area led to a growth in tourism, which accelerated after the building of the longhouse resort in 1995.  Many local Iban people work at the resort and some of the nearby longhouses, which were not relocated, derive income from hosting tourist groups and entertaining them with tribal dancing and blowpipe demonstrations.  One study I read says that they do this partly to replace the income and food production they have lost from land submerged by the reservoir.

The resort was designed for an "international" clientele with room rates to match, although we got a massive British Council discount and during our stay there were only a handful of other visitors.  It was clearly built to a very high specification, but is suffering from lack of maintenance and whole sections have been mothballed.  So, we have a failing upmarket holiday resort, built to look like a tribal longhouse, on the edge of a lake full of submerged rainforest and real longhouses, in which many of the former inhabitants of the area work as cooks and cleaners.  I thought I caught some of the staff giving me careworn looks.  It was probably my paranoia, but could you blame them if they did?