If you were adventurous, scoop out the fragrant, heavenly, alarming flesh of the durian.
— JG Ferrell, English-born novelist
The king of fruit is making appearance in Metrocity here but on a smaller scale. Perhaps it is the ending of the season.
I am no longer a real fan of durians, but it is interesting to watch durian lovers flocking the market, namely durian stalls, especially next to the AM Bank in Padungan next to the Cat Statue with it ever-changing festive attires.
A few years ago, at the same venue, I ventured to ask for the price of Musang King sold there and was told it ranged between RM25 and RM35 each. That was in the midst of the season and I decided to purchase the one costing RM28 whose flesh was perfect and worth the money paid.
This time around, I was made to understand that in the initial stage, the durians were aplenty in mid-November, lasting for about three weeks. In last Christmas while making a visit to a niece teacher Sarai Kandau in Kota Samarahan, her husband Nullie Begau told me their trees at Kampung Semanit at the back of Samarindah were bearing fruits, one of which were fruiting about 1,000.
He said he gathered the fallen fruits once in two days for about three weeks and showed me a photo showing plenty of the fruit at the back of his Toyota pickup. A few years ago, I remember, when staying at their bungalow near to SMK Muara Tuang, he used to give me some durians from the same trees. All the fruits were fleshy and tasting close to the Musang King.
Meanwhile, the ones being traded in Metrocity, just in front of the Zainab Family Café, are said to be obtained from Bau and Serian. Each costs between RM15 and RM25, which is considered as mediocrely priced at this time of season end.
I noticed yesterday that there were very few takers and it showed with the grimacing faces of the three peddlers.
It does remind me of some trips that I made to durian valleys in the mid-1960s as an adolescent and later as a teenager. My earliest trip was perhaps made in 1962 when I was eight years old. It was led by my grandma then in her 70s and we were joined by my elder brother Jon @ Chandi who was then 14.
We wanted to go to Sebirung’s Rajang Durian Valley (or Lebak Rian Rajang in Iban) but it was full of people as it was one of the valleys – with four trees – which was a communal property.
So we went to another valley called Lebal Rian Lemayung on the other side of the mountain but sharing watershed with Sebirung. For that matter Sebirung was housing three valleys namely Rajang, Lusing and Tukak.
It took just about an hour for Jon and I to make a temporary shelter walled and roofed by leaves. Luckily the weather was fine and no downpour throughout our stay.
Rian Lemayung, now still bearing fruit, is special as the durian flesh is sweet despite looking half ripe in view of the flesh being a bit hardened but nice and that one can just put the opened fruit together with your clothing in your raga (woven basket) and be ascertained that the clothing won’t be soaked with the flesh. Each seed is half-covered with flesh and thus giving credence to the name ‘Lemayung’ which means ‘half-covered’.
During the two nights we spent at the valley, Jon and I were warned by grandma not to talk about wild animals such as tigers and jaguars that might be available in the valley, the remotest of the forested area in upper Assam, a tributary of the Melupa that flows into Krian River. We had to put the flame on during the night for fear of such creatures.
“If you smell a fragrance in the middle of the jungle, just keep going as usual; don’t mention it to anyone,” grandma told us before we settled in the Lemayung Valley. I was not perturbed at that young age but in later years I was told that the fragrance could be from a ‘third party’ in the forest.
After spending two nights waiting in the Lemayung Valley, we collected quite a good number of durian fruits and in the morning of the third day decided to call it a day.
Some of the fruits were opened and the seeds wrapped in leaves. A few bigger fruits were not opened and were packed in a selabit (woven basket out of rotan) meant to be carried by Jon.
I was to carry the opened seeds wrapped in leaves using a raga. It was a bit heavy for me as an-eight-year old but I tried my best and finally made it all the way to our Bukit Tinggi home in upper Melupa.
Our grandma also carried her load too. It was a fruitful trip and certainly a moment to savour in the forest.
The views expressed here are those of the columnist and do not necessarily represent the views of New Sarawak Tribune.
