VITAMINS AND ANIMALS
This is Tungching. He has mad skills in a long-boat and the meanest haircut on the whole Kinabatangan River. He has a Chinese name but he is not Chinese, and he is a legend in these parts. He is jungle born and bred. Tungching was our guide and captain on a 3-day river safari looking for the Borneo Big 5: orangutan, pygmy elephant, proboscis monkey, saltwater crocodile, and rhinoceros hornbill. I am here to fill my cup: this is just what the doctor ordered. Well, sort of.
What the doctor actually ordered was three days in hospital and three bags full of intravenous vitamins. Aaah, the great indoors. A persistent stomach bug saw me swap out exploring geography, ecology and biology for exploratory endoscopy, colonoscopy and endocrinology. My little body is depleted of iron and energy after months of illness.
My veins are sore. The nurses slap my arms looking for a line in: tap, tap, tap, trying to plump up a vein like a junkie. One arm is a little battle-weary and tender after I received a quick blast of concentrated glucose when my blood pressure dropped sharply during one of the procedures.
Doctor John tells me I have long, twisty intestines. I saw inside them on the screen and got special pictures to take home. Cool. It wasn’t all bad; it was an experience, and I have always loved novelty, and unexpected outcomes, and weird situations: that’s why I like Tungching’s hairstyle.
Doctor Serina tells me she is going on an Alaskan cruise with her mother soon. She is kind. Doctor John tells me his son is leaving for UK to study medicine soon, even though he tried to discourage him from the vocation. He seems tired. Pumped full of goodies, and multiple tests later, I have the all clear to go adventuring. Goodbye Doctor John, so long Doctor Serina, hello Tungching, our own Doctor Doolittle.
Tungching tells us his brother was killed by a crocodile. The croc clenched hold of his head as he was checking his fishing nets in the shallows; he later died in hospital from a bacterial infection. Tungching tells me his brother’s name was Benny. He is matter-of-fact about it.
The acute change in environments mixes my mind. Everything feels ripe for comparison. Rivers resemble veins. Murmurations like thoughts: swirling, harmonized, erratic, delightful. The deforestation feels like an infection.
From solitude to a swarm, the throng of European tourists feel like all the white people have gathered in one spot in Borneo. They are terse, rude, vexations to the spirit. Hospital and river sounds are mysterious, both are a cacophony of beeps, shrill rhythmic ringing, persistent natural and unnatural surround-sounds that change with the light.
Dawn and dusk, always a pleasure, my favourite time, when the light and sound are beautiful. My thoughts overlap and intertwine, and I am happy to be alive and well.
So we tick off our Borneo Bingo card. Proboscis monkeys are unusual-looking characters. They make me think of a high court judge. I picture them wearing glasses and official garb. They are fun to watch: along with the long-tailed macaque families they are pure entertainment. The crocs, big and small, are terrifying, and I can’t help but think of Benny.
The rhinoceros hornbill are majestic. Water monitors hang about the lodge with their glamorously mottled skin. They are slow and fast at the same time. Bats blast about the place. I imagine them getting caught in my hair, so I duck.
We see the arm of an orangutan high in the canopy and consider it a tick. We visit the rehabilitation centre later in the week and get a close-up view of these magnificent creatures. They are just beautiful and we are sad their precious forest home has been destroyed. Orangutans have around 97% of the same DNA as humans. It is enchanting to watch their human-like mannerisms.
Mum cradles baby with affection, a soft stroking back and forth for reassurance. Orangutans are mostly solitary beasts. The large male hides behind the tree in a big ‘fuck you’ to the hundreds of sweaty Euros holding up phones, overheating, and jostling to get the best shot for their Instagram.
Nature one, people zero.
Orangutans can’t swim: they don’t like water. We watch the obligatory video presentation, which features an orangutan throwing a tantrum when the rain ends a good jungle-gym swinging session. This makes us laugh for days.
The Kinabatangan River is a wildlife superhighway. The river connects fragmented habitats in a deforested landscape, allowing animals to move, breed, and maintain genetic diversity in an environment increasingly isolated by palm oil plantations and logging. Ropes have been strung high across the jungle canopy so orangutans can cross the river. Orangutans are critically endangered and humans are idiotic.
People one, nature zero.
Tungching zooms us up and down the waterways, pointing out all the species. I rub my sore veins and think of the mighty river as an artery, a life force for all these special creatures. I didn’t hate the hospital; in fact I feel grateful for the experience and the insurance. I am lucky. No elephants, but maybe next time.
My cup is full, my soul restored. The vitamins and animals have replenished me, a good shot in the arm. They say fill your cup to overflowing and spend the bit in the saucer on others. My cup is overflowing, and this story is the bit in the saucer.
