Little Parts Of Us Left Behind

Slated for the final batch of Project WHEE! for the year, I had to watch yearningly as Batches 1 and 2 headed off to Bario in May and in June, and then hear/read all about their experiences upon their return – all the while itching to throw myself onto the very next plane. There wasn’t a single person I talked to who came back without having left a big part of themselves behind in Bario: with the place, and especially the people. Each came back missing their tepuqs and sinas terribly.

Then it was finally my turn to go...

We land upon a seemingly enchanted, quite untouched paradise and meander the one hour walk to the place we’ll call home. The Kelabits welcome us warmly with their big smiles and even bigger hearts, a warmth that would span over the next 16 days. They throw open their arms even wider than the doors to their longhouses and from the first prayer said before our first dinner together, they cemented our relationship as family. The words of prayer, so simply and sincerely weaved, really touched me because there we were – 10 unknown budak bandar (city kids) (not counting Rhon and Dan, who are practically local in their eyes) who could either be sporting halos or horns– who had descended upon their tranquil life. I have never been the overly religious sort, but hearing their heartfelt gratitude and thanksgiving for our presence really hit me hard. I felt undeserving. I guess it would not be wrong to say it was a clear litmus test as to how well Batches 1 and 2 did? Or maybe they really are just that accepting... and trusting in God’s plan and the inherent good in every two-legged creature?

The very first night <3
Oh, and Dan's birthday celebration. I hope your birthday wish *coughKelabitwifecough* comes true (;
picture credits to Project WHEE.

Either way, I eventually realised that the tepuqs and sinas had to get through round after round of the pain of separation from their susuks after Batch 1... and again after Batch 2, and that they knew it would happen yet again when we left. And yet, they welcomed us into their hearts and their homes without any barriers.

One thing about me is that I tend to be quite guarded about whom I get attached to. As my mama likes to say: I do emotional attachment well, but I do tend to crash and burn when it comes to separation. And so, knowing full well that I was there for only 16 days, I subconsciously flicked the internal warning switch to ensure I do not get tooooo attached to anyone I would have to inevitably leave. But how could that even be possible when Sina Mayda was so sweet and thoughtful? When her husband Tama Ricky was so interested in every aspect of my life? When our homestay host Tepuq Sina Rang was so, so, so welcoming and accepting? When they all went out of their way to take care of us, and make sure we were comfortable.

Let it suffice to say that I failed. Miserably. Either that, or my internal switch was faulty. Right now, ensconced in my bedroom in Petaling Jaya with the air-conditioner working overtime to cool the warm night, I long instead for the crisp cool air of the beautiful highlands as we huddle in a circle like penguins in the middle of the road (no matter how insane we look to the random motorist passing by), looking up into the starry night, and basking in the love, laughter and company of each other, and the peace that Bario and its people give. I miss my family in Bario. And there’s a chunk of me that was unintentionally and very reluctantly left behind.

Quite literally: Huddled like penguins under the stars, while looking quite insane to random passers-by.
(P.S. I never claimed to be able to draw)

~alicia nicholle aka Ruran Ricky