“In family life, love is the oil that eases friction, the cement that binds closer together, and the music that brings harmony.”
Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900). He was a German philosopher, cultural critic, and scholar widely regarded as one of the most influential philosophers of the 19th century
IN the early 1960s, I had the chance to get to know and befriend my granduncle, Saran Elon, also known as Aki Paku.
He hailed from a Paku longhouse called Senunok, located deep in the interior of a river named Paku, which is a tributary of the Saribas.
Aki Paku was my maternal granddad Narang Jeluka’s half-brother, sharing the same mother.
Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity to meet Narang as he had passed away from snakebite in 1949 before I was born.
Around 1964, Aki Paku was already a grandfather to a granddaughter named Bangi and a grandson named Changgai, who were the children of Jeluie Saran and her husband Jalil. More grandchildren were to come later.
I can still vividly recall the first time I met him, which was around 1963 when I was in Primary Two at Nanga Assam Primary School in Melupa, Krian, Saratok. Aki Paku came over to our humble dwelling in Bukit Tinggi for a visit.
In the absence of my granddad Narang, Saran was like a second grandfather to me, and I treated him with the utmost respect.
In 1964, during a school break, four of us — myself, my dad, my mom and my elder brother Jon, also known as Chandi — embarked on a long journey on foot from our home in Bukit Tinggi, upper Melupa, to Senunok in Paku.
We set off early from our residence and followed the jungle path towards upper Melupa, passing the Meramuh region of the river.
We continued ascending the Megong hills, which served as the watershed between Melupa and the upper Keribau River, a tributary of the Rimbas and, consequently, a sub-tributary of the mighty Saribas.
Along the way, we encountered some durian trees with ripe fruits, and Uncle Nyiring, my dad’s younger brother, was waiting beneath one of the trees, hoping for the thorny fruits to drop. He opened a few collected fruits for us to enjoy.
From there, we pressed forward, passing a junction leading to Keribau longhouse, until we reached the Nanga Ulai bathing site of the longhouse bearing the same name.
Despite crossing the knee-deep water, we decided not to enter the longhouse. It was only later that I learned that the well-known Iban inventor, Dunging Gunggu, resided there.
It was nearly noon when we arrived. According to my dad (Apai), who was more familiar with the area, our goal was to reach the peak of a steep mountain called Bukit Tampak Panas, which served as the watershed between Rimbas and Paku.
However, we soon realized that we were heading in the wrong direction, as our target peak was to our left.
Fortunately, the area was dotted with hill paddy cultivation, and since it was weeding season, we had a clear view of Bukit Tampak Panas.
We even encountered two men engaged in net fishing who pointed us in the right direction towards the mountain peak.
Apai led us to a plot of cultivated hill paddy, which the farm owner granted us permission to cross to an adjacent farm.
After some careful manoeuvring, we managed to reach the intended peak, where we took a short rest, knowing that the journey downhill would be challenging.
Despite the difficulties we faced on the way down, we eventually arrived at a longhouse called Nanga Bong, situated at the foot of the mountain.
Some of the longhouse residents were busy processing rubber sheets, and we realised it was already 3 pm, but we didn’t stop.
Instead, we continued our journey and, after an hour or so, we passed another longhouse called Danau by the Paku River. It was starting to get dark along the jungle edge.
Approximately an hour later, we reached Senunok and entered through the longhouse’s second door. Aki Paku was not at home as he was out on a hunting trip somewhere nearby.
Nevertheless, everyone was happy and relieved that we had made it after a gruelling 13-hour journey. Shortly after, the old man, then in his early 60s, arrived with a mousedeer he had caught.
He was visibly delighted to see us. We stayed in Senunok for about three days before returning home to Melupa with Aki Paku accompanying us.
In Bukit Tinggi, I developed a close bond with Aki Paku and often went fishing with him at the nearby Melupa River and Sungai Tapang stream.
We would go rod fishing at Lubuk Muney, below Sungai Tapang, where we caught large white carp known as Ikan Tunggal (two-stripe white carp).
However, our most memorable catch was a big catfish, or Ikan Keli, whose flesh filled three large bamboo containers.
We had baited it overnight along the river banks above the Sungai Tapang estuary. If we had arrived just a little later, it would have freed itself from the hook.
As soon as we realised the bait had been taken, I hurriedly fetched a special woven fishing basket called ‘pemansai’ from our home in Bukit Tinggi to catch the fish.
Aki Paku remarked that it was the largest Ikan Keli he had ever caught in his entire life.
I was left speechless, but it deepened the bond between me and my granduncle. He stayed with us in Bukit Tinggi for at least two months.
Even after 60 years, the scene at the river where we caught the fish remains fresh in my memory.
When Aki Paku passed away in the early 70s, I was away in Penang. However, I managed to attend the funeral of his wife, Ini Paku, Nangku, in 1992.
I travelled there using the Ulu Paku Road in my brand new Proton Saga. Since then, I have been reunited with my second cousins, including Bangi.
Bangi currently works at a hospital in Saudi Arabia and has been there for over a decade.
Those are cherished memories of my granduncle and his family members, and I treasure the friendship we shared.
Auntie Jeluie now resides in Kuching at Tabuan Dayak, where she looks after her grandchildren. I had the pleasure of meeting her not too long ago. She is in her late 70s.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the New Sarawak Tribune.
