One Night in Sibu (Sarawak)

Member Name: travelnotes

Product:	Sarawak
Date:	04/01/01 (478 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: There's always something going on, even when there's apparently nothing to do.

Disadvantages: The Malays watch terrible films.

If Lonely Planet tells that you most travellers just overnight here and then head up to the longhouses on the Rejang River, it's got to be dull... right? I guess it depends on who you bump in to. It could go a little like this.......

I made a few arrival notes and impressions in my room, and scattered a few books and pens around to feel at home. There were two beds. The first one I sat on sagged terribly, I transferred to the other; considerably firmer, it would be the one I slept on. The fan worked and so did the shower.

I set out to explore the town alone, but soon bumped into Eric.

"You're going to see the place?" he snidely remarked.

He had decided to stay in one of the cheaper places, even though they had Asian-style toilets: "They don't know how to use western toilets here, and they pee all over the seats," he said. "It's disgusting; I climb up on them and use them Asian style."

If he did not leave Sibu straight away, he would probably end up staying in town another week, "So I have the seat on the bus next to you tomorrow, although Bintalu's probably no better!"

Probably not, but we would find out. What concerned me now, was the restrictions Eric would impose on my thoughts and impressions.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. I could show you some cheap places to eat.

I would only need one, and that would be wherever appealed to me; regardless of the price. I said that I was just going to aimlessly lose myself.... perhaps look at some boats. He probably thought I was strange.

"Those bars fill with prostitutes," he pointed down the street. "They're ugly and leave you alone though."

"That's funny, I always thought it was the ugly ones that troubled you the most, and liked to think that they had the most to offer."

"That's true," he said. "By the p
ost office at night is also interesting.... transvestites parade around. Perhaps I could show you."

"Not tonight," I said.

"The better prostitutes are also there!"

Did I detect a glint in his eye? I asked him if they did much much trade; perhaps the sailors sought them out.

"No, the sailors use the ugly ones... they're cheaper."

He even knew where to find the cheapest whores -- I'm sure he didn't get that information from Lonely Planet.

Leaving Eric:

I went straight to the bus-station to see if I could catch the earlier bus, if I woke up in time, and was pleased to see that there was a bus all the way to Miri later than the earlier bus to Bintalu, but earlier than the bus that Eric would be on. I would not have to change buses, or spend the night in Bintalu. I was booked in the corner seat at the back and would be able to observe... unobserved.

Time to eat:

My restaurant called. It was large, popular, and cooled by overhead fans. I pointed to a selection of foodstuffs to accompany my rice, and ordered a large Dutch beer, brewed in Kuala Lumpur. The television was on, all the men stared at the images, but the sound was drowned by that of scratched records on the jukebox. I looked up too.

It was a pseudo-war film. Japanese soldiers were attacked by scantily clad women. One soldier was gagged, stripped and almost sexually assaulted by the gang of hungry women. Another soldier, standing guard by the shore, was ran at... pushed into the sea... and held under the water by three women, until he breathed no more.

The next attack was hilarious. Again it was a gang of three women. Two of them crawled from under a house-on-stilts, and pulled the soldier's ankles towards them. he fell to the ground and the last member of the trio jumped aggressively on the back of his head.

Another soldier in bed thought that his luck was
in, then gasped his last breath under a pillow. Yet another was felled by a knife, thrown by one of the deceiving sex bombs. Then the women ran around in the captured soldiers' uniforms.... brandishing machine guns.

Two now disguised women relieved a pair of Japanese guards of their duties. The men realised that they were being duped, never said a word, looked at each other and asked the replacements to lift up their shirts. The women glanced at each other and lunged at the men with bayonets fixed.

Another record was played on the jukebox, ants headed towards my cake crumbs, and it was already dark outside. Time to pay the bill and leave.

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