Brunei, Borneo

Brunei was a short and only kind-of sweet trip. I’d categorize the entire weekend as a minor travel failure. Not that I can really consider experiencing a new country a failure, but we certainly had some issues, some amateur traveler issues, which we should be better than, by now! Let me refresh your memory: we started with a sweaty sprint to catch our plane:

Side note: I just noticed I call any 2-3 period of time a weekend. I often have no idea what day it is, as every day is my Friday. Weeks blur together, and I often can’t remember where I spent the last night, let alone the last week. We often only know the date (or MONTH!) when we have to catch a flight, boat ride, shuttle, train, etc. to another destination. We move a lot. Can you blame me?

We landed in Brunei early, still recovering from our intense early morning jaunt through the Kuala Lumpur airport, and loitered around trying to find some Wi-Fi and the city bus to bring us into town to find a place to stay. We eventually found Wi-Fi, landed on a general location to call home, and headed for the bus stop.

Unable to locate any of the three cool-hued buses we were told to look for, Will asked a parking attendant where the bus stop was. A woman asked him where we were trying to go, and she signaled for him to follow her. I caught up, and Will explained this woman had overheard his inquiry about the bus stop and offered to show us the way.

A short walk later, she was entering her car. Confused, we clarified we only needed to be pointed in the direction of the bus.

“Please, get in. I am happy to take you. I travel and need help. And people help me. I don’t want money. I want to help you. Please, get it.”

A quick look in her backseat revealed a water bottle with lemon and the usual backseat suspects, so she seemed trustworthy. Ignoring my parents, schoolteachers, youth pastors, public service announcements, and every other warning I’d ever received, I got into a car with a stranger. If only she had offered me candy, too.

Will took the front seat and I sat in the back, sipping on my piping hot coffee, our ticket to Wi-Fi access, and wiped the beading sweat off my brow. Small talk ensued, and we learned Joe-E (maybe it was ‘Joey,’ but she greatly emphasized the E, so I will, too) was a tour guide and made homemade salves and potions that she sold at markets. Retuning the small-talk favor, I mentioned bug bites greatly affect me, asking where the market was that I could buy some, and she pulled out a bottle of mass-produced tea-tree oil, profusely apologizing for not having any of her own homemade goodies with her. She shoved it into the backseat, begging me to keep the bottle. “I hope you don’t mind. I’d like you to have this as a gift.” Oddly enough, I already owned the same exact bottle, gifted to me from a generous Targeteer before I left, and graciously turned down her offer, attempting to convince her it was mighty fine that she didn’t have any of her homemade salves for me, the ride and her conversation was gift enough.

Joe-E is one of those pure spirits, giving and generous, full of light, that never expects or wants anything in return. She’s the type of person whose true good-intentions don’t deserve the initial doubt they receive. She radiates joy knowing she’s made someone’s day better. To her, it’s a very minimal, simple act to offer help to a stranger. One barely worthy of thanks. She believes that’s just how the world works, people help people. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind she was doing the right thing, and she even seemed to think her offer was mundane. We spent the entire 20-minute ride listening to Joe-E’s mantra, ‘Sharing is Happiness’ and I fell in love with it:

“I’ve been to other countries and have needed help, and people have helped me for nothing. So now I help you for nothing. One day, I will come to your country, and I will need help. And someone will be nice to help me for nothing. I want to help you the same way. And then you can help someone else that needs helps. Any goodness I bring to the world won’t benefit me, but will bring happiness to my children and grandchildren. I really believe that. Sharing is Happiness. Sharing is Happiness.”

Envisioning that horribly sad movie staring the kid-actor who also claims ‘I see dead people,’ we explained that’s called “paying it forward.” The translation was lost on her, but we promised we would continue good-doing and spreading the love. She delivered us safely to where a speedboat would get us across the river to our destination, and told us not to pay a penny more than $1 each to cross. “Don’t let them trick you!” “I’ll tell them Joe-E said so!” “No!! They will get mad at me!!”

In a flurry, Joe-E was off, trying to get to work on time, waving without looking back as she yelled “HALO?” into her iPhone.

For $1 each, we got to the other side of the river. A very short ride and a slight crash onto the cement stairs of the ‘dock’ later, we found the guesthouse Will looked up and knocked on the door. Welcomed by a young boy, he stated the owner wouldn’t be home until after noon, advising us to come back later. With nothing to do and stifling heat already beating down our necks, we spent a few hours in the cooled tourist center, watching an entire video on things I can’t remember, later winding our way around the docks of this little stilt town. Eventually, the owner returned, who we never ended up seeing, just as tourists started coming to the area. We decided the room didn’t quite amount to what we’d thought, and thanked the young boy for showing us the room (and wondered why he couldn’t have done that hours ago…).

Back on a speedboat, we crossed the river again, grabbing lunch at an Indian restaurant claiming WiFi access. After ordering and learning “no Wifi” we found a Burger King, ordered a sundae, and found a place to stay nearby. Finally in a room, we changed out of sweaty travel clothes and left to explore the city.

We started at the National Museum, filled with tourists. I assume they were shuttled in and out of Brunei same-day, as we didn’t see many Westerners during the remainder of our time. Oddly enough, Joe-E was leading one of the tours, and we gave a hearty ‘hello’ to her group as she shouted, interrupting her tour script, “I drove them from the airport!” A grin from ear to ear, in true Joe-E fashion.

The museum was lackluster. The highlight was dreaming up my ideal royal procession as we sauntered around a replica and photos of the sultan’s version. Unicorns with prancing kitties and lots of glitter, plenty of dancing, and a few clothing changes…I’m sure Will regretted asking the question when 20 minutes later I was still dreaming of my vision. I hope I become royalty one day, I think my people would really enjoy my royal procession.

Waving to Joe-E, we started the hot but quick walk to the city Mosque, just in time for the evening call to prayer. We snapped a few photos but stayed a respectful distance, allowing men and woman to worship in traveler-less peace.

For dinner, we wanted to try something local. Joe-E had recommended ambuyat, so we found a restaurant close to home and ordered. I can’t describe it, because I wish to never remember it. Instead, I’ll show you what we ate for dinner:

A few bites later, we abandoned the goop, eating just the sides, and went back to BK, they only place in the country that seemed to have working Wifi. I ordered onion rings and a soda, and we shared another sundae. We spent the evening planning the next few days and finding a flight to our next stop. There wasn’t much to do...

The next day, we planned to hike one of the well-known jungle treks further inland and took a speedboat down the winding river to the next big city. Imagine if the only route between Minneapolis and Saint Paul was by boat along the Mississippi, with nothing but natural surroundings and woods along the way. These two large cities had nothing between them but crocodile waters and thick jungle brush. The man next to me explained that Koreans were planning a highway. Within five years, the cities would be connected and accessible in minutes by car, not hours by boat.

We made it to our destination, enjoying the scenery, and discovered the last returning speedboat would be at 1:00, maybe 1:30, or maybe 4:00, but probably closer to 1:00. Confused, we looked at the clock. It was noon. We had an early flight the next morning and no place to stay if we missed the boat. If the ferry didn’t fill up, they wouldn’t send it, so the ticket lady wouldn’t guarantee we’d have a ride after 1:00. We opted to turn around and go back, not wanting to chance our luck and miss our only ticket out of the jungle. To ease our frustrations, a nice first generation Bruneian with Chinese parents took us out to coffee, offering to drive us around the area and show us some jungle. We didn’t want to keep him from his plans, but we accepted his coffee offer, and chatted with him about his 'famous brother' who owns a Japanese restaurant in Seattle.

We turned around, took the ferry back, went back to Burger King, deflated, packed our stuff, and got on the plane the next morning (wearing all of our clothes, again).

The highlight of Brunei, besides the incredibly generous people, of course, was fabric shopping. I dragged Will into a dozen stores, and we splurged on an AMAZING fabric. It’s actually for a 2-piece suit (aka a traditional Indian sari), but I have other plans for this beautiful piece of fabric. The summer to-do list is growing…

So, to recap, we SPRINTED through the KL airport to make our flight, ate some nasty goop, missed the jungle trek, and consumed BK more times in 1 weekend than I have in the last decade. We were planning to continue east to visit the Malaysian part of Borneo, but abandoned that idea when we decided it would be a super similar experience to the jungle trek adventure… so much for that.

From Borneo, with Love,

Sara + Will