On occasions when we need to reflect upon the subject of our native land, or our ‘Lam Bawang Tauh’ in the Kelabit dialect, we tend to recall where we were born, and where we were raised, and where our forebears lie in their momentary hiatus along their onward progression to the next part of the cosmic journey.
This is hardly surprising, because these are the places where our earliest memories were first planted, nurtured and carefully moulded — to reach their deepest rooted blossoming potential. The conception of a native land is as a perennial but not an everlasting abode, intended for greatness in this life and to provide comforting shades from the harsh elements of all shapes and colours, and as a much needed sanctuary of peace, wellbeing, calm and serenity.
Our idea of a native land is as a place where the brightest stars of recollections of this life’s experience, or the potential of such possibility, are embedded — and securely lodged, in the firmaments of our consciousness, in our lively imagination and finally to be ensconced in the deep recesses of our minds.
These are places and locales which are constantly refreshed and amplified, as well as periodically celebrated by our common recall — through our traditional songs, our dances, our folklore recitations and our narrations in their varied forms and genre.
These ‘Lam Bawang Tauh’ or native land locales and geographies, are emotional and spiritual terrains as well. Very often, they are the places where we have felt closest to our parents and through them, to their ancestors before them, and all of whom we are reminded of, to fully embrace and recall as well, from time to time.
These are the landscapes where we grew up in, under all our forebears’ successive nurturing and loving care. Whereas reciprocation, we would likewise be expected to do the same for our own children and issues.
Hence, all of their indelible imprints are not something that is mistaken, or temporary, but are truly and permanently etched into our consciousness — and genuinely blooming bright and robustly in the fertile tablets within us.
On one plane, these places tend to be geographical locations somewhere in this physical world where we consider our roots are posited and truly lie. Very often, this linkage to our roots is constantly reinforced, and further reaffirmed, by us associating these lands as the places where our ancestors once lived and roamed — and where our own inheritors will continue on the same journey for as long as this world still stands.
The native land has places where our predecessors have made their marks and left proofs of their existence — in the forms of structures like dolmens, rock carvings, ‘kawang clearances’ cut into the mountain ranges, and the unique names which they assigned to places and things.
These included places where their stories, legends and mythologies were first told, and continued to be heard in their collective memories, songs, folk tales and legends. Some of which we have inherited but, alas, most are already lost forever in the sands of time.
These native lands are the lands upon whose fertile grounds our ancestors have lived, farmed, tilled, fished and hunted. Geographically, Bario, the central and main settlement, is cradled by the Tamabu range in the west and the Apo Duat mountains in the east.
And within this cradle, the Kelabits have grown their food supply, nurtured various trees with delicious fruits, or other perennial plants of utility, in one form or other. In the plains and lush valleys where they have reared herds of buffaloes and other domesticated animals, fowls and farmed fishes of all kinds are valued. Also found here are the ‘Bued Mein’ and ‘Main Keramut’ salt springs which never run dry for as long as the inhabitants can recall.
In other words, all those lands upon which they have chosen to eke out a living from, to hunt and fish, or just to explore and enjoy its wholesomeness. And, if necessary, land which they will defend their possession thereof, and whose location and parameters were traditionally made secure with all their might and ingenuity. In particular, against enemies, land grabbers and intending interlopers, that emerge from time to time.
Land to which, if needed be, they would also gladly welcome friendly parties, visitors and intending joiners of honourable intent and noble motives. Our native land is always beautiful and welcoming. We welcome all to enjoy its beauty but abhor all the actions and the attitude of those who come to steal, to destroy, and to plunder the forests, the lakes and rivers. We don’t welcome those who despoil the land and destroy the things within them.
Now as we reflect upon this very subject, and for ourselves, we tend to associate our idea of native land with beauty and bounty, with a long history with distinct oral traditions and stories passed on from generation to generation. All of which are committed to memory for the sake of posterity and for celebratory purposes, as and when the occasion demands.
Deep inside, and in our general and overall consciousness, we accept that it is as truly a beloved country to live in, and also the preferred place to die in, all because of the reasons, associations and motivations, myths and beliefs — some of the examples of which we have alluded to, and briefly discussed above.
And through the much celebrated resident balladeer and traditional singer, we recall with fondness the lyrics of the ‘Adih’ songs sung by the much loved voice and community recaller. Hence, words like those given below which are pregnant with emotion and infused with fond heartfelt recollection, are pertinent:
Lam Bawang Kudih
My Native Land
Bawang Baleng, lang-lang doo bako’
The fertile virgin-lands with such beauty
Lat Apad Dita madting ngi Peped Laminan
Between the high blue mountains to the far away end boundaries
Bawang Lam Inan Lun Nuwan Tauh Rudap
Lands of our eternal destiny where our ancestors lie buried
Bawang Doo Raben, Lam Litang Adto
Lands laid firm under the rays of the sun
Bawang Doo Ribed, Lam Liyang Bulan
Lands grown tender under the moon’s glow
Mo, Nih Idih, Lam Bawang Kudih, Plaba Doo Ribed Lam Inan
Yes, this is it my native land, a land for and of the beautiful!
The native land that we have spoken about is obviously focused on this physical realm of a world, and relates mainly to our current temporal existence. So very often, we tend to miss the true native land from where we first came from. We tend to be so caught up in the here and now — so much so, that we risk losing our true bearing. We have unwittingly, in such instances, taken the pond for the wide and deep blue ocean of mercy. We have taken this small patch of ground for the celestial sky full of rubies, diamonds and sparkling stars that garlands the firmament for as far as our eyes can see.
This temporal existence is, surely but a momentary sojourn, a testing ground to find out whether we have somehow lost our recollection of the true paradise, and of our eternal abode of peace and tranquillity. We need to be aware of this other realm to which we shall truly return. We need to recall the words in the song that reminds us that “This world is not my home, I’m just a passing through. If heaven is not my home, then Lord where would I be?” Your true home is in the stars, not on this tiny blue dot in an expanding universe.
In this regard, I love the metaphorical verses as given by the mystic poet Rumi, as follows:
“make your last journey from this strange world soar for the heights
where there is no more separation of you and your home God has created
your wings not to be dormant as long as you are alive
you must try more and more
to use your wings to show you’re alive”
So in conclusion, of our native land as we find it in this world, put the same in proper context and the right perspective.
Perchance, we’ll get true insight and wisdom — and not be blinded by the bright lights and temptations of worldly riches and the deceiving largesse of this temporary sojourn we all call our respective native land. For in essence, and actually, it is not your native land. You are just a passing through traveller. So covet not, and accumulate not any unnecessary baggage. Unless you wish to remain here forever. Marooned. Held back. And left behind.
Would it not be more beautiful if in the here and now, this world is to be shared and not to be fought over, and made a sad basin of the much spilled blood of our fellow beings, both of the human kind and of the non-humans alike. For God does not love those who wreak havoc and cause destruction upon the Earth. Heaven will not be their home. That much He has promised and forewarned us about.
Dateline:
7:37 AM
18 December 2023
Shah Alam, Selangor DE
