M. Jegathesan Yahoo News 6 Feb 08;
As the roar of heavy chainsaws echoes in the distance, 54-year-old Ajang Kiew, once a nomadic Penan tribesman, wages a losing battle to save his culture in Borneo's rainforests.
The environmental damage wrought by the timber companies that are cutting swathes through Penan territory is not the only challenge faced by his people who now mostly live in villages.
As the loggers build roads through the once-impenetrable jungle to enable them to extract the timber, they also open up access to the modern world -- including television, junk food and new ideas.
At the timber camps and in Penan settlements, satellite televisions are now commonplace, powered by electricity supplied through diesel generators or mini hydro-electric pumps.
And Ajang says that as the forest shield is cleared, the young Penans no longer have an appetite for the natural environment or their ancient cultural traditions and ways of life.
They prefer pop music to the sounds of wild animals and insects, and crave for McDonalds and Coke rather than the pulp of a sago palm, the staple diet of the Penan which is eaten with meat from wild boar or barking deer.
"Yes I want a school, a clinic, but we need the jungle to preserve our culture," Ajang says in the Long San region about 200 kilometres (124 miles) southeast of Miri, an oil-rich coastal town in Malaysia's Sarawak state.
"In my village in Long Sayan, logging has destroyed the forest, including my ancestral graves," continues Ajang, chairman of the Penan Association in Sarawak, on Malaysia's half of Borneo island which it shares with Indonesia.
"If the habitats and the jungle products disappear, our culture will also disappear."
But 21-year-old Roland Allen, a Penan undergraduate student who attends university in Sarawak, says he has no love for the forest or his culture.
"I like to live in the town. I want to enjoy a modern lifestyle," he tells AFP during a visit to his ancestral home of Long Main village, half an hour's helicopter flight from Long San.
"We need to sacrifice the forest to move on. Education is a powerful weapon. We need roads. We need schools. We need medical clinics," he insisted.
Just behind Allen's house is a mini-hydroelectric pump sponsored by timber giant Samling which generates electricity and powers a huge satellite dish.
Some 20 children from Long Main attend boarding school, trekking four hours through the jungle to reach the nearest timber road near the town of Long Benalih.
Samling's plans to build a new road to Long Main have been halted by a blockade mounted by Penans aimed at protecting their forest.
The firm, which is listed on the Hong Kong stock exchange, flew a group of international journalists to the area to hear both sides of the story.
Allen said that without the road, life is difficult for the 150 residents of Long Main, especially during the wet season when trekking through the forest or by river becomes even more difficult.
Another young man there, 22-year-old Paul John who came back to the village after becoming unemployed, felt the same way.
"I help my parents hunt for wild boar. I am happy here. But we have to change. We need jobs. Life in the jungle is difficult. The Penans need to develop," he said.
"Yes, I enjoy pop music and whenever I want fun, I go into town for a drink and to smoke." Drinking alcohol and smoking is banned in the village.
Ajang is greatly troubled by the new generation's lack of interest in protecting the forest.
In the past he has himself organised blockades to prevent timber companies from carrying out logging and has been jailed three times for his campaign.
As he leads a group of journalists struggling along a wet and slippery jungle trail, Ajang's hunting skills are on display as his eyes scan the wilderness and his sharp ears detect any animal sound.
"Look, that is a young petai plant," he says with a smile as he points out a popular long bean-like vegetable that is eaten raw. "Over there, that is a sago plant. This forest here is alive."
Just then a barking deer hops out of the forest into a clearing and then quickly disappears into the thick undergrowth which has grown back after timber giant Samling logged the area.
As we climb over fallen logs, carefully avoiding the blood-sucking leeches, Ajang kneels down to the forest floor to identify the "iput" leave that is used to heal body aches.
He laments however that the "ipo" tree species, which produces latex used to make traditional poison darts for blowpipes, has become scarce due to logging.
Samling insists that they conduct selective logging, and only trees with commercial revenue are felled while other plants like rattan and sago are left untouched.
It also uses the logged area to promote eco-tourism -- sponsoring locals to be trained as guides, and helping bring in foreign tourists to visit waterfalls and villages, and to witness traditional skills and culture.
The plight of the Penan was made famous in the 1990s by environmental activist Bruno Manser, who waged a crusade to protect their way of life and fend off the loggers.
He vanished in 2000 -- many suspect foul play.
Raymond Abin, of the Borneo Research Institute in Miri, says Penan culture is being devastated.
"As they are exposed to outside influence, social problems like alcohol drinking is becoming a concern," he says.
Raymond says the divorce rate is also rising, especially among Penan women who marry outsiders who work for the logging companies.
"When the timber companies complete their logging in one area, the workers then leave behind their Penan family," he says.
Raymond says there are at least 15,000 Penans in Sarawak, including about 300 who still live a nomadic existence in the jungle.
