Some heavy drinkers can’t sober up — they are dazed 24/7. They fall into the fire; it’s OK. They sleep in a stinking gutter; it’s OK. They urinate and vomit on their body; it’s OK. Every disgusting thing is OK to the drunkard.
Vincent Okay Nwachukwu, author of ‘Weighty ‘n’ Worthy African Proverbs’
Noisily drunk with locally brewed “chap langkau” became the order of the day in the last seven funerary wakes over the last five months, namely four in my Kedap longhouse in Saratok and nearby longhouses.
Usually the same drinking buddies were the culprits; more so that funerals are the opportune moments to get free flow of such alcoholic drinks, the cheapest available—and containing the highest percentage of spirit—in the market anywhere.
After all, this Saratok district is well known for supplying such drink all over the state, from Lundu to Miri. Most of the local brewers are laughing all the way to the banks, some enjoying six-figure monthly income.
One veteran drinker in his early 60s working as a lorry driver, a self-appointed leader of the culprits even sang Negaraku during a funeral in Tanjung Sikup, an upriver longhouse in late October in total disregard of the family of the deceased, despite being a nephew of the 89-year-old man in the casket.
His boisterous sound of intoxication was not solitary as at least three or four others tried to match his disorderliness.
At the other end of the longhouse during the same event, no less than four drunkards also marred the solemnity of the funeral despite being advised to tune the noise down by the assistant longhouse chief earlier.
On the burial eves at Mendas and Nanga Assam up the Assam, a tributary of Melupa, just a few minutes’ drive from my Kedap longhouse, respectively in mid-June and early October this year, the events were also flawed by at least two groups of drunkards, to the chagrin of the bereaved families and other mourners.
Again “chap langkau” was the main item served after dinner. I noticed that during the formal gathering whereby the “adat pemati” (laws and fines pertaining to breakage of or not adhering to bereavement and mourning rules), only about 30 people, including guests attended both burial eves.
This formal announcement of the mourning rules and fines highlights every funeral/burial eve. Fines usually range from RM2 to RM7. The amount of fine is of secondary importance but the shame of being fined carries a heavy burden on the character of the culprit. Nevertheless, none of those culprits during the events between last June and October was fined.
Perhaps the only funeral whereby no such misdemeanour was noticed was in Kawit longhouse, some 5km away from Kedap, recently.
I was there to pay my last respects to the deceased, a lady and an old friend a relative, despite at our longhouse, there was another funerary vigil on the same evening — it was not the burial eve yet.
In fact up till 10pm just before the “adat pemati” announcement, the whole longhouse was quiet.
Nowadays, due to good road accessibility, guests usually leave before midnight, except for close relatives of the bereaved family, plus of course the gamblers for “main tui” (black thin card game), “samchung” (13-card Russian poker game) and the popular “holo” (three-dice) game.
These games are also popular attractions during funerals. Some gamblers also share the “chap langkau” liquor to add kick to their games.
If I recall correctly, there was one punching incident during a funerary wake in the mid-90s at a nearby longhouse where the two persons involved were fined RM4 each.
As they were both close relatives of the deceased, they added an “extra fine” by donating one crate of beer each to the bereaved family and amicably shook hands with each other after an hour of the incident. They continued to drink but the next episode of the session was incident free.
During one funerary vigil in a Kanowit longhouse circa 2004, a man in his 70s was fined RM5 for singing a top hit by Iban singer Andrewson Ngalai after being heavily intoxicated.
His son, who was the local primary school headmaster, paid the fine immediately and donated a crate of “Chap Apek” (brewed in China) to the bereaved family.
When the liquor arrived, the drinking session continued but by that time the old man, ashamed of his misdemeanour, was nowhere to be found. Some said he walked back to his own longhouse about 2km away. It was a shameful act that he committed, despite being jovial.
Drinking sessions which are the main attractions for drinking adults, even young boys, are a common sight in longhouses. Despite being ridiculed by wives and mothers, it has become an intransigent and diehard habit.
During gatherings such as Gawai Dayak, other festivals and funerals, these sessions are a must or else there is no merriment and enjoyment or attraction and noise in the case of a funeral.
This habit undeniably contributes to the wellbeing of the local liquor brewing fraternity.
Due to the high demand for “chap langkau”, many new individuals are jumping on the fraternity’s wagon, I found out recently during a funeral.
These new kids on the block are said to be starting it small, though some are aiming to do it big gradually. This may be good news for the drinkers but to the disappointment of their spouses.
The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the New Sarawak Tribune.
