Longhouses
We spent a day heading up river visiting 3 long houses of Kayan and Kejaman tribes.
 
The first two longhouses, both Kayan, were very different in style. 
 
The first, Long Daah, consisted of a pair of longhouses located opposite each other, and one other close by. There were several other smaller buildings, also of a wooden structure. We were informed that these included the chicken house and the kindergarten, but other than a handful of chickens we were unable to confirm this as there was no one home.
 
As we walked up the centre of the two adjacent longhouses, it felt a bit like being at Auschwitz. It was eerie from the silence, the place was competely deserted.
 
We eventually found a couple of older residents willing to accept our gift of rice, one of which allowed us a peek inside their house. The wooden structure continued on the inside, although the floor was cemented and covered with well worn lino. It was some what dark, dingy and untidy, but we were told this man was a widower, although his sister often visited.
 
The second longhouse, Long Makero, was just a collection of smaller wooden homes rather than one long one. Although they were rebuilding the longhouse nearby, after a fire, with a modern style.
 
A couple of the units within had a slightly more expensive facade, whilst the remainder were just one door and one window.
 
Finally, the Kejaman longhouse was where we visited to enjoy our lunch of fresh vegetables and bbq'd chicken wings that we had purchased earlier at the market in Belaga. The family there were really lovely, coaxing us inside to sit and enjoy coffee and glutinous rice parcels, as well as cooking up our supplies for us. 
 
Of course we had followed instruction and brought a bottle of the local wine, made from a plant root, to break the ice. This soon had one of the old ladies laughing and smiling enthusiastically, whilst betle nut was offered round for us to chew. 
 
We all took turns to entertain with some rather amateur dancing along to tribal music playing from a jumpy cassette, which built up our appetites for a hearty meal.
 
The on site tuck shop sold lollies, which we purchased for the children at each of the houses to say hi. Although I would have much preferred to have given them some stationery or something other than sweets, they seemed to appreciate the thought, once they plucked up the courage to come out from hiding. Surprisingly they were very shy, so perhaps not that many people visit here after all. 
 
Our guide had not let any of the other families know that we were there. When they returned after lunch, from planting rice out in the fields, they invited us to join them for more food. We had to decline as we needed to get back to town, or our guide did. We felt some what disappointed as he had clearly chosen his friends for us to visit and benefit from the rice, supplies from the market and no doubt a back hander.
 
The village of Belaga
 
Belaga itself doesn't have much to offer but it is a very friendly town with a good few restaurants and at least two that serve beer. 
 
Our first evening was passed listening to our guide and his stories, over a couple of beers and a large bottle of whiskey. The second night, involved enjoying more beers with a French girl and a Danish couple. And on our last night we bumped into our boat driver for the 3 days, and ended up subjected to his senial dementia ridden stories which he told over and over in broken English.
 
Local school
 
We spent another day visiting a school, downriver, along with a couple of other long houses. Sekapan Panjang and Long Dungan. The houses were very similar, made largely of wood and raised up, unlike the ones the day before that had concrete flooring.
 
The kids had already finished school, but as we had brought some stationery items along with us we were able to sit with them for a short while. We exchanged some personal information in English, sang songs and chatted for a bit, before they had to return to afternoon class and we had to return to Belaga; again because our guide needed to get back.
 
We had been promised a number of things as part of the arrangement made with our guide, Daniel Levoh, which he had not quite delivered on. Plus his general attitude was to often leave us on our own or just disappear without warning, maybe because he had something better to do. In the end I asked him why we had not visited all the places as agreed. He seemed unconcerned that we were querying where the rest of the rice we had purchased for the longhouse had gone. He said he had dropped it off when he visited another longhouse without us on the first day. Was there really any point discussing this further?! In the end he offered to take us to another longhouse close by with more rice...
 
This turned out to be an interesting experience. Despite being just 2km from the town, the people here still live very traditional lives. Wearing sarongs and living off the land. One lady we meet was literally on her way out to get a chicken for dinner... armed with a large knife.
 
We sat with one family and shared some rice out for a number of the residents, whilst they rolled tobacco and betle nut leaves to share. We then wandered round the select few homes to deliver the river parcels, meeting an array of friendly villagers. One lady thought we had brought the rice along for her to cook porridge for us to eat and set off towards the kitchen to make it. Our guide eventually convinced her that it was a gift, so instead she proceeded to invite us in to share her betle nut and tobacco with her. She was just so hospitable and didn't want us to leave without sharing something. 
 
We ran out of rice parcels at the last house, so I was sent on an errand with some more, taking a young girl as my guide. We had fun trying locked doors and hopping across open drains to finally deliver the bag of rice to the family, who we found were out and visiting their neighbours for dinner.
 
Next stop, Miri.