Without Wax

There’s just something about Bario that captures your heart from the moment you set foot in that tiny little airport. People have all sorts of reasons for falling in love with this place and I was no different. I fell in love with Bario for a reason you cannot see with your eyes. But it was here and it followed me wherever I went.

    

Sincerity. I experienced it daily through the willingness of the people here to share whatever they have with everyone around them. I sensed it in the hospitality that was such a huge part of life in Bario. We woke up to it everyday as we feasted amazing spreads put together by our home-stay host, Tepuq Sina Rang. Despite the obscene amount of food we ate, she would always insist we eat more- and eat more we did.

Nuba layak with ikan pahit, tapioca leaves and tekulung, a type of snail.

I felt it in the way Tepuq Sina Doh Ayu, the Kelabit woman I was assigned to, lent me her traditional clothes and beads to meet Dato’ Seri Idris Jala bacause my clothes were covered in mud. I tasted it in the food she cooked for her family each day even after the hours of hard labour. I experienced it through the care and patience our coordinator, Aunty Nicole, showed us throughout our stay in Bario. Thank you for being a second mother to us. I observed it in the quiet way Aunty Dayang, also our coordinator, served her village relentlessly, expecting nothing in return.

All dressed up. 

I was touched by the sincerity of Aunty Catherine, who never failed to feed us sigo, lalit and so many other Penan delicacies whenever we stopped by her home. I am reminded of it every time I look down at the bangles and necklaces she makes wrapped around my wrist, each one different from the rest. I still feel sincerity in the weight of the Kabuq I wear around my neck,  handmade gifts from Tepuq Sinah Doh Ayu and Tepuq Sinah Rang.

Penan bangles and kabuq, fondly known to us as Kela-blings.

I heard sincerity in the voices and instruments that worshiped God during church on Sunday mornings. I felt it in the way the elders of the church prayed for each one of us individually, despite the fact the we were strangers to their beautiful town. I experienced it in the cheers, claps and hugs we received from the school students we taught. I admired it in the willingness of my teammates to adapt to new surroundings and always made the very best of their circumstance. I see it in the way we took care of each other and  looked out for one another.

Batch 2 with Aunty Nicole, our coordinator.

It is impossible to miss the fact that while the people of Bario don’t necessarily have monetary wealth, they are rich in all the ways that matter the most. They find joy in sharing what they have and one cannot help but be touched by how freely they give whenever they can. It would be impossible to describe the people of Bario in a word but if I were forced to choose, my answer would be ‘sincere’. 

The word sincere originated from the Spanish words ‘sine’ and ‘cera’ during the Rennaisance.  Sculptors were known to use wax, cera, to hide the mistakes made when sculpting expensive marble statues. A statue that had no flaws was described as sine cera: without wax. Today, however, the word sincere has evolved to describe something that is honest and true; free of pretense. Thank you, Bario, for showing me what it means to be ‘without wax’.

Anna