Hey all! Exciting news- I just up the ante by screwing up my wrist joint whilst filming in the jungle, once again in traditional DK-clutz stylissimo. I think my McGyver gene failed on me this trip round and as a result i found myself crawling like a mud skipper in the Mulu caves and willingly dropped and drowned my animal instincts for Tuak, a very special intoxicating drink that is served at every Longhouse in celebration of Gawai Dayak. So raise your brow, fall sideways and say selamAAA Gawai Dayak! PAINAI!Once again, Borneo doesn't fail to amaze me; from hornbill-dancing to guana-diy-facials...There is so much more to explore, all you really need is a good set of peeps around you and many great laughs will follow.So my journey starts from Kuching to Sibu, with the Sungei Rejang coiling and sometimes strangling my passenger seat-my eyes couldn't even keep up 3hrs to KAPIT-pretty much the last stop of the Rejang River.. pirated dvd re-runs that are kept running, but left on the menu file, WILL irritate you enough to scratch the ferry windows open. Think nails on chalk board....yeah, you know what I mean.And off to the land of headhunters territory, Iban longhouses were calling my name and my gut was telling me: you'll survive through sign language and bird flapping messages.So gals, I was sooo looking for that feathery and faaabulous chief's coat de'season, but the shopgals were like: That's like SO LAST season, maybe you should check with the weaving goddesses 3 blocks don the river. They call it: Iban demi-couture. a bit pricey, but catwalk worthy...I didn't have any cash to buy these priceless pieces, so the weaving dames made me work for It. Good golly, can you even tell what the hell I AM doing? I'm tying knots, and have o follow the lines of a croc with a big open mouth. the tail became the head, and the head became the tail. Lesson learnt, I'm definitely not a weaver. I'm a moron...I'd like to take credit for this fine of work, but most half German mutts don't have the patience to tie shoe laces..Do you even see a damn croc in the pattern?? It looks more like a map of planet Uranus. Thanks to me of course...After all my hard work of weaving, the lovely Iban ladies dolled and styled me like an Iban Barbie.I felt special...So this is the bit where I'm forced Tuak down my throat, and I'm not complaining...at all.They say I'm blessed now and will have a handsome man in no time... And we have tribal winner of another longhouse...but unfortunately he was only interested in my head... or neck for that matter... He looks tame in a SNAG kind of way, but believe me his hand grabbed my hair tightly when he showed me his 'parang' within a mili-second. He thought it was rather funny and i thought the heads next to us looked rather scary. Lost in translation perhaps?Fishing time and I didn't even catch the guppy in my hand. Another lesson learnt: Do not, I repeat, DO NOT put me in charge of food, let alone catch fish. Wet leaves and twig contribution is all i'm capable of and that would starve any longhouse...So i'll stick to what I'm good at and salute the rice harvest on behalf of the Gawai Dayak. festival. I knew i was good at something...The tuak eventually ran out and my sideways walking would have buckled any boat on the Melinau River. So Mulu awaits me...Residue of Tuak still flowing. I never thought rowing could be so much fun. Ok, I was posing...As if I can row a boat upstream...don't give me too much credit! The kid in the front was doing all the work.The canopy trail was sublime and i highly recommend it to those who have a phobia of heights. You'll be pissing down the bridges into the river. And still the jungle love of my life are butterflies. I love all of their kisses. They make yo feel welcomed, like a ferngully special.Can you spot the big bat in the center flapping and waving in the cave, looking for blood and fruit suction? FYI, BATCAVES SMELL LIKE BATSHIT-quote me on that...Inside the mulu caves, you simply have to let your imagination go wild. fallic shapes make good echo-giggles. Do you see what i see? Paradise-simply breathtaking.Dont judge me. Yes, they are crocs. Tragic, never thought i had the will to wear those hideous shoes, but trust me-they are the best for rivers...Good feet floaties too.And that's all from crazy mad tribal chicken woman, reporting from Sarawak.Please check back in next week, as I report from Kelantan and Trengganu.Before I say my hornbill farewell, I would like to thank of these great people I met who welcomed me into their hearts. I love Borneo!PANAIOur slap-your-face crew and the comedic Mulu guides who love stalegmite shapes..The kids who made me smile with every force of the way. The Pua Kumbu Godesses of our time. C'est chic, tres chicThe simplicity of life by the river-the many memorable people who smiled to greet me.And life without this, will never be the same. I'm thinking Tuak Dirty Martini and Tuak lemon drop shots for the next celebration! Recipes are rollingAnd that's all from me. Will be back soon. Sending all my new found light from the heart of Borneo.Jumpa Lagi!xdk