I've spent the past two days in Sematan, with only a handphone and a camera on me. This is a photolog of that trip.
This photo was taken in Lundu. I was trying to be unobtrusive, but the kid with the liondance helmet was impossible to resist. I think their parents own the shops in this lot - one of the aunties in the kopitiam nearby was looking up from her cooking every few seconds to make sure all the kids were still there.
I was standing downstream when I took this. These women are shell collectors. Several minutes later the one with the white tudung came back to warn us against bathing near the river mouth, because undercurrents had claimed an old man the week before. I remembered thinking about this woman later in the day. What is her life like? What would she use those shells for? I didn't dare to ask.
On the way back from Sematan my cousin (who is in centre of this picture) turned to me in the car. "I can be happy everywhere," he told me. "All you have to do is not complain. And love." I wish I had his confidence.
Upstream, behind my camera, is a swamp. I followed my grandfather as he investigated, and we came upon loose bits of wood, plastic, and this thrown-away tire. I wonder if the kids over there even know what they're playing in.
This was ironic, because all the getting back to nature rubbish was ruined by a beep from my sister's handphone. And then ten minutes after I took this we came upon a blue pipe running parallel to the trail. Techonology seeps into everything.
This is a hermit crab. My grandfather found it and plopped it onto the table where we were eating breakfast. My grandmother was the first to notice that the shell he had brought back was actually making its way across our breakfast, right at noodles. Whatever you might say about hermit crabs, I'll admit: they make good morning entertainment.









