He must have been at least a bit amused, seeing us struggling along the path. He must have had to suppress a chuckle, when we took 51/2 hours to hike the trail. I know I laughed at myself when I saw an elderly couple, bent almost horizontal at the waist from years of working in the rice fields, even now carrying a load on their hunched backs, pass us on the road at a speed significantly faster than our own. But Lian showed no sign of amusement at our lack of trekking abilities. Instead, he took our minds off the heat and humidity and slippery path by telling us about the jungle that surrounded us. He told us of how you could make a soup from the leaf of a common local plant (when boiled in water, it releases a milky viscous substance resulting in a soup resembling eggflower soup), or reduce swelling by rubbing the crushed leaves of another plant on a bite sting. We probed his knowledge with questions and kept him talking, not just to slow him down but because he had so many interesting things to say. Whenever he'd tell us about the bounty available in the jungle (which he referred to as his "supermarket"), he'd mention growing up with his grandfather.
"Please granddad, let me go! I want to come with you." Young Lian always went with his grandfather into the jungle on walks, but sometimes his grandfather would not want him to come along, and would refuse. But persistence usually paid off, and sometime Lian would just follow along until grandfather acquiesced.
Wandering through the forests in his clothes made of the bark of a local tree, pounded, dried, moulded, sewn, and pounded more into a suitable softness, Lian and his grandfather would mostly just walk. Grandfather was sometimes hunting, sometimes had a destination, and sometimes was merely walking because the jungle was home. Whatever the reason, these walks meant a lot to Lian. He learned which plants could be eaten, which used for medicine, which were useful for making fires, making shelters, and which were poisonous. Lian learned a little, but never as much as his grandfather knew. His grandfather knew so much, and was so accustomed to the jungle, that Lian's respect was immense.
One day after a long walk, Lian's grandfather sat on the porch, and look at the soles of his feet. It was typical that at the end of a day's walk, the sole of his foot would have a number of things stuck into it, such as sticks, rocks, and other things of the jungle floor. The callouses were so thick that they did not bother him, but nonetheless many of them were sharp and worked their way into his flesh. This time, there was a huge thorn that had made its way deep into the area under his ankle, near his achilles tendon. As Lian stared, his grandfather took out his machete and calmly cut out a huge chunk of flesh, without flinching.
Lian spent much of his early childhood with his grandparents, and the day came when his father, who was a preacher and the local Christian church, noticed that Lian was closer to his grandparents that to his own parents. Lian was brought home, and to watch over his son, the father stopped preaching at the church. "And that was the beginning of my long history with the church."
Soon after, Lian was sent into the big city of Miri to continue his schooling. Coming from jungle and villages, Miri was astounding the the teenage Lian. He said that his first purchase was to buy a pair of sandals like he saw everyone else wearing; he had never owned shoes. Soon, he had to buy dress shoes for school, but with feet unaccustomed to shoes, he soon developed severe problems, and had to be given time off from school for his blisters to heal.
After his schooling, Lian decided to stay in the city, where there was more of interest and more opportunity for a young man. But Lian had no work skills, and could only make money as an entertainer. He knew how to play guitar, and would work occasionally at local night clubs, playing American songs, country as well as popular music. One night, after playing "Suzie Q," Lian was grabbed by a fat man in a business suit.
"That was amazing! You are a great performer. What's your name? Can you play that song again?" Lian was taken aback a bit by the man's enthusiasm, but decided to play the song again for the man. After his set was over, Lian packed up and made to leave, but was again grabbed by the fat man. This time, Lian was taken to a large table full of fat man in business suits, and their wives. He was introduced all around, and then pulled into private conversation with the fat man.
"You really are an amazing performer. That song just moved me. Moved me! Lifts my spirits, hearing that song played with such spirit so far from home. But are you planning on just playing in clubs all your life? What's your plan for a career?" The man didn't really ever give Lian a chance to reply. He was extremely boisterous and enthusiastic. "How about working for Shell Oil?" The whole table was full of bigwigs from Shell Oil, and this man was one of the highest.
A week later, Lian entered the fat man's office, dressed in his full performance garb to ensure that he'd be recognized. He was given a series of tests in esoteric subjects like engineering, calculus, trigonometry, advanced chemistry. Lian didn't know how to answer the questions, but he knew how to bullshit, and he had a knowledge of basic mathematics and chemistry, so he did his best. The bigwig looked over the answers, frowned a lot, and finally offered Lian a job in electrical engineering.
"But sir, I have no experience in electrical engineering, and no interest." The fat man frowned more, and decided to place Lian in the pipe-laying department (not the technical term). After a few years of work, he became the manager, and learned such things as trigonometry and calculus and engineering. He learned how to do all the calculations and operations required to transport oil from offshore oil rigs under the ocean along the ocean floor, the the mainland. For years he worked for Shell Oil, rich by Malaysian standards, with a big home, cars, and money to spend.
"But the more I made, the more I'd spend. It seemed like I saved more at the beginning when my income was low than later, when it was high. And I smoked more, drank more. My friends were fake, just business friends. If I had stayed in that career, I think I'd be dead by now."
Instead, he quit. Upon questioning by his boss, he admitted that he had no real plan on what to do instead. Maybe farm, he said. His boss questioned him about farming, and as it turned out, he had been a farmer in Minnesota before the oil career. So he called Lian's bullshit and revealed that he didn't know how to farm.
But Lian ended up guiding tourists like me. He went home, bought a house with income left over from his old job, planted a large garden to help sustain himself, and supplemented it all with the income from guiding. His days were spent walking the trails and the jungles, hanging out with old and new friends, real friends, peaceful, back in nature and real life, happy, healthy. He's nearing 60, but looks 40, and could outwalk Ciara and myself easily, probably for the next 20 years. He's planning on buying some land out in the jungle and building a small hut, living in isolation, and living an even simpler life, as retirement. I asked him if he had ever read Walden by Thoreau, and his only answer was, "Who's Thoreau?"
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