Having penned two durian narratives previously, the scarcity of roadside sightings of the King of Fruits across Sarawak prompts a reflection on captivating durian tales that blend intrigue with a pinch of altruism.
In November and December last year, my niece and her husband generously shared a plentiful supply of durians from their orchards in Samarahan and Serian with my family. These durians varied in size and content, mostly being fleshy but not quite reaching the level of the renowned ‘Musang King’ variety. Nevertheless, they were satisfying enough to please our taste buds and fulfil our craving for the fruit.
Back in Saratok, we have a few ‘tembawai’ (sites of former settlements) where durians remain the main fruit, alongside other trees like jackfruits, langsat, rambutan, mangosteen (known locally as ‘sikup’), mangoes, and more. Typically, the durians from these ‘tembawai’ are very fleshy but not always flavorful. However, the ones from our remote Tembawai Bila Dua in Melupa, Saratok, the birthplace of my late father Salok Jembu, stand out as the best, although they still fall short of the Musang King’s flavour.
It was in Tembawai Bila Dua, in 1972, that we (three first cousins) spent two days and two nights gathering as many durians as possible for sale. I was summoned by the school principal — back then, I was in Form Five A at SMK Saratok — to account for my absence on a Monday due to the durian gathering extending into a school day. I explained to the principal, who later became a close friend almost a decade later, that my elder brother (his schoolmate) had stopped sending me pocket money for two months, and I needed cash from the durian sales for my expenses. He kindly excused my absence. This very individual later facilitated my appointment as a lecturer at a teachers’ college after I obtained my teaching degree in 1979, as he was the college’s principal at that time.
Around 1989, I brought a few school teachers from SMK Julau, about 150 kilometres away, for an evening gathering at the Bila Dua durian site. Some of my family members also participated in the excursion enjoyment, which became particularly engaging due to my brother Jon’s adept marksmanship, introducing two exciting wild games to our activities.
Regarding durian varieties, I recently came across a newspaper report suggesting that Musang King, the Malaysian durian variety that reigns supreme among fruit enthusiasts, might face a new contender for the throne.
The Royal ASFA50, short for Anniversary Sirajuddin Fauziah 50, was introduced to commemorate the 50th wedding anniversary of the Raja of Perlis, Tuanku Syed Sirajuddin Syed Putra Jamalullail, and Raja Perempuan of Perlis, Tuanku Fauziah Tengku Abdul Rashid. ASFA50 is said to match the taste of its internationally renowned cousin but matures in less than half the time.
The most delicious variety I ever tasted was in Bukit Kayu Hitam, Thailand, accessed from Alor Setar, Kedah. During a Malaysian school principals’ conference in Alor Setar in 1990, Donna Babel, then the principal of SMK Tun Openg, and I represented Sarawak — we sat at the second lead table one evening, next to the main table occupied by the Minister of Education, Saudara Anwar Ibrahim (now PM Datuk Seri Anwar). During a break, we followed the principal of the border school, SMK Changlun, en route to the Thai border town. Passport checks were unnecessary as the border officials recognized his car. Since it was durian season, we tried a fruit for RM4 or 40 baht. Its golden flesh was delightful, and I finished the whole fruit while my companion took only two ‘golden’ bites. Despite enjoying it immensely, Donna (who later became the Samariang assemblywoman) was concerned about its effects on her waistline. That experience came closest to our Malaysian Musang King.
Hailing from the ulu (remote hinterland), we have encountered numerous durian varieties not typically found at market stalls, offering a double-figure selection beyond vendors’ usual choices. For instance, ‘Rian Lemayung’ is an almost unheard-of variety, even in the remote hinterlands due to its rarity. In our area, only two such trees existed in the 1960s, located in the popular Sebirung durian region called ‘Lebak Rian Lemayung’ (Rian Lemayung Valley). The fruits are small with almost blunt spikes. When ripe, the flesh appears pale yellowish, resembling unripe fruit, yet it is sweet and moderately soft, explaining their limited popularity among durian enthusiasts.
Once, a busy colleague inquired if I ever had an overdose of the king of fruits. I affirmed, recalling a session when I consumed over five medium-sized durians in one go when our collection was abundant. Nothing untoward occurred. However, when I attempted to eat nine of its first cousins, the ‘pakan’ variety (with orange-coloured skin and flesh, also known as ‘nyekar’), all at once in 2002 after a long absence from the country, I learned my lesson the hard way. The ‘heatiness’ caused me to visit the restroom several times within four hours. ‘Pakan,’ named after the area in Sarikei Division, has a unique exotic flavour. We maintain a few ‘pakan’ trees at an orchard near our Kedap community dwelling in Saratok, a reliable source that bears fruit almost every season.
Stories about the deadly combination of durian and alcohol are indeed true, although not universally applicable based on my encounters and observations. For instance, my elder brother Jon, a retired foreman with JKR, experimented at least twice in the 1980s by consuming durians minutes after they fell from the trees, alongside locally brewed ‘cap langkau’ spirit, known to ignite if exposed to a match or lighter. On these two occasions, one of which was in Bila Dua in 1989, he was accompanied by an uncle each time. While both uncles have passed away, their deaths were not linked to the ‘durian-cap langkau’ experiment. Jon, now 76, makes me wonder if he would dare to repeat the act.
However, two individuals, many years apart, were reported to have died from the lethal combination of durian and a beverage. The first known case in Saratok involved a notorious cockfighting enthusiast who died after consuming durian with Guinness Stout in the early 1970s. About a decade ago, a friend from Kuching in his late 60s passed away after consuming durian with Coca-Cola. Recently, warnings have circulated on social media cautioning against consuming durian with various drinks and foods such as coffee, crabs, dairy products, and eggplants, apart from alcohol and coke.
In 1975, during my first Christmas Eve in Penang, I daringly indulged in a sequence of durian, food, beer, and Hennessy brandy at the residence of our Social Anthropology lecturer, Prof. Dr. Clifford Sather, from Kentucky, USA. This peculiar challenge was suggested by the esteemed author and academic, Prof. Derek Freeman of the Australian National University. Freeman, who had spent considerable time in Baleh, Kapit researching Iban customs and traditions, was mentoring James Jemut Masing (a prominent politician titled Tan Sri Datuk Amar, now deceased) for his anthropology doctorate from ANU. Also partaking in this adventure was another Iban, Thomas Chang Anak Abang of Kapit, the only other male Iban besides myself in the university at that time. Our lone female counterpart, one year my senior, was the late Linda Nichol. Following this ‘experiment,’ both of us felt the heat throughout the night and into Boxing Day, but no serious consequences ensued. Looking back, we can only say, “I was there,” albeit without much pride, more a display of sheer recklessness, if I may add. A dear friend, the late ‘Dr.’ Benedict Sandin, then a Senior Fellow at Universiti Sains Malaysia’s Centre of Policy Research, just chuckled at our foolishness. Sandin, a retired former Curator of Sarawak Museum, was accompanied by his wife.
All preparations were in place for Christmas, my first celebration in Penang.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of the New Sarawak Tribune.
