No, I don't mean a hostile takeover of a stranger's house. I mean living in a stranger's house - taking a room, sharing his table, walking in his shoes (metaphorically, of course). It's a holiday experience that's gaining a fair bit of interest here and it's called a homestay.
What is a homestay? Basically, it's to experience the life of your host and the locals. A simple idea yet one that usually imparts great lessons, realization and memories, as I learned after my homestay experience with Juan Gusul, the Orang Tua (or village elder) of Kampung Tombung in Sabah. It was from him that we learned the most about life in that remote area of Borneo.
Kampung Tombung is situated across Sungai Kiulu, one of Sabah's main waterways. There's only one way to get in and out of the village: a narrow wooden bridge suspended high above the water. Just crossing it creates the sense that you are entering a very different world.
The river is protected from over-fishing by enforced non-fishing zones. But every year in May, the river opens up to the surrounding villages for a huge festival during which fishes are caught, then smoked, salted or pickled to last the year. Unfortunately, it wasn't festival time during our visit.
Like most villages in Sabah, the homes here are built around a large football field where buffaloes graze in the day and children play football in the evenings.
In the morning, the mist rolls in from nearby hills leaving dewy drops on the green grass. And if you get up at the right hour, the golden sunrise turns the entire field into a sparkling sea of diamonds.
Evenings are relaxing and quiet. While children gather around the TV, adults sit and chat around the dinner table, chewing on freshly picked groundnuts while waiting their turn to bathe.
We each had a (basic but clean) room with a shared bathroom. The lullaby of rickety floorboards, a creaking fan and a heady intake of fresh country air make for a great night's sleep.
Once a week, a Tamu is held to allow villagers from the surrounding area to meet and trade. At first glance it's much like a regular Malaysian morning market but is really an exciting place filled with indigenous produce. It helps to have a guide along to explain what's what but the locals are usually quite happy to humor your curiosity.
Wild mushrooms, pickled raw fish, all sorts of jungle ferns and fruits, and an amazing variety of produce can be found here. There're even stalls displaying freshly skinned wild boar carcasses from head to tail (though not always in that order). For foodies, an authentic Kadazan home-cooking lesson is un-missable.
At my homestay, Juan's daughter, Sandra, gave me a few good tips on typical Kadazan-Dusun recipes. We made tahau (wild ginger pounded with cili padi and lime juice), a welcome appetizer to any meal. We also made a dish of wild ferns and salted fish, then rounded off the session with a simple stir-fry of rubber-tree mushrooms; all done while trying to keep the house cat off the kitchen counter.
Generally, meals here are simple and easy, consisting of whatever is collected from the jungle or bartered for at the market that day. With no refrigeration and frequent power failure, food storage isn't really practiced. Helps to make sure you eat fresh, I say!
Sustainable Lifestyle - Touring the village reveals a more sophisticated community than just humble stilt homes. If you're talking about sustainable living, Kampung Tombung has it worked out.
There's a coop just beyond the river entrance, where people send or pick up goods. There's a church and a hall for official activities, dancing and sports.
They have their own school, a barber and even a mamak!
Not to mention a communal tilapia fish pond they harvest once a year, the paddy fields and rubber plantation. Most of all, they have the jungle to turn to, the river to take from, and city conveniences only a few hours away - a complete package in peaceful isolation.
There's good hiking in Sabah. The walk from the village takes you through the earthy banks of the rice fields, sometimes still muddy and bare from the last harvest, worked by friendly farmers.
Because of the mountainous terrain, Kampung Tombung's rubber trees are grown on the slopes alongside their highland rice known as bario.
The climb's not easy, but neither is it just about climbing. We followed the same trail that rubber tappers take each morning to tap their trees and had a go at it. It's not that easy and an inexperienced hand can scar a tree for life. Our guides showed us how they harvest and process the rubber sap into thick white slabs, which are then hauled down to the coop to be collected by middlemen. Although the smell of fresh rubber can be unpleasant, one slab can fetch up to RM50, considered a good wage out here.
Throughout the climb, we sampled various wild plants, gathered rubber-tree mushrooms for dinner and drank the sweetest water straight from a bamboo plant. We hacked our way through dense undergrowth to reach a vantage point with a spectacular bird's eye view of the kampung.
My last night at Kampung Tombung was unforgettable. I have never had a feast held in my honor. I have never been so warmly welcomed by complete strangers and I have never felt so much at home in such a foreign place.