I stayed in a longhouse in Sarawak and it taught me a lot about being a Singaporean in Southeast Asia
Before visiting Sarawak, I didn't think too much of the area. I had never been to the island of Borneo, home to Malaysian states Sabah and Sarawak, Indonesian Kalimantan, and the nation of Brunei.
I also only had a faint idea that Sarawak was where many indigenous communities of the Orang Dayak, or Dayak people, lived. I had heard it was "rich with culture", but I didn't really know what that meant, and thus, the place simply didn't strike much interest in me.
So, the last thing I expected was a trip there to alter parts of my brain chemistry, but it did.
Witnessing the Gawai Dayak parade and staying in a longhouse (or rumah panjang) didn't just take me out of my routine. It deepened how I think about indigenous heritage and culture, and what it means to be Singaporean, an identity rooted in the Southeast Asian region and shaped by the coming together of many different ethnicities.
In Sarawak, culture blends in a way that feels far more fluid and natural than I was used to (hi, Chinese-Malay-Indian-Other model in Singapore).
COMING TOGETHER DURING GAWAI DAYAK
My visit to Sarawak was anchored by the Gawai Dayak, a harvest festival celebrated annually in late May and early June by the native Orang Dayak, which included the Iban, Bidayuh and Melanau.
That weekend, I was in Betong, a rural town about three hours from the city of Kuching, where I saw people of different ethnicities come together for a celebration that spanned generations.
People gathered to eat Iban dishes infused with unmistakable Malay and Chinese influences, and wore traditional Dayak attire, like the women's marik empang and men's kelambi.
They spoke in a mix of languages – including Jaku Iban, Bahasa Melayu Sarawak, Hokkien, and English – and sang Nusantaran-style songs that echoed through the streets. The songs were filled with the sounds of drums, gongs and stringed instruments, carrying a festive spirit that felt both familiar and new.
Some wore headgear adorned with feathers or beak-like structures symbolising the rhinoceros hornbill, and amulets believed to ward off evil spirits. I saw women in hijab wearing their Iban costumes with pride, and young boys donning their cross necklaces alongside their Bidayuh warrior beads, balancing cultural expression and religious values.
According to the Sarawak government's 2020 census, the state is home to around 2.5 million people. The largest ethnic group is the Iban, who make up about 30 per cent of the population, followed by the Chinese and Malay communities.
Sarawak's story, from colonial rule to self-governance to being part of Malaysia, is different from that of Peninsular Malaysia. For many Iban, their sense of identity is rooted not just in national borders but in the shared heritage of Borneo.
During the parade, I spoke to a man in his eighties, who told me he had been celebrating Gawai Dayak since before Sarawak's self-governance on Jul 22, 1963.
The elder recalled how Gawai Dayak only became an official celebration in 1965. Now, six decades later, he smiled watching toddlers and teenagers drum and ululate down the streets of Betong.
Of course, like anywhere else, there are differences and disagreements, and not everything is perfect. But watching people of all ages, races and religions come together during Gawai Dayak, laughing, drumming, dancing, was deeply heartening.
It showed me that it's possible to celebrate indigenous heritage without turning it into something performative or commercial. It's not solely about capitalising on a practice that's been revered for years but creating a space to honour that specific culture – in this case, the native people who have lived there for thousands of years – and letting that pride be shared, respectfully, by people of many backgrounds.
What seemed like just a foreign parade then made me reflect on my own country's culture, heritage, and indigenous communities. I thought of all the stories of our native people, such as the Orang Pulau or islanders in Singapore, and the way we can continue honouring them.
EXCHANGING STORIES WHILE STAYING IN A LONGHOUSE
Another significant part of my visit was when I got to stay in a modern longhouse, befriend my lovely hosts, and listen to them and their stories. The longhouse, called Rumah Panjang Engkeranji, was also a central gathering place for the town's Gawai Dayak celebrations and a glamping-style experience.
Traditional longhouses are made of teak and elevated on stilts – an architectural design that is more sustainably appropriate in our weather and climate – but Rumah Panjang Engkeranji was built from concrete, a more cost-effective choice today.
The longhouse had 22 bilik, or individual family living quarters, and I stayed in the 21st. The whole building stretches about 50 metres long and 5 metres deep, has two storeys, and is home to over 50 nuclear families.
Each bilik belongs to a multi-generational family, and all the bilik in a longhouse share a central corridor called the ruai. It's where weddings, funerals, festivities like Gawai Dayak, Christmas and more take place.
The ruai is where children play, neighbours catch up, and friendships (possibly even love stories) blossom. It was heartwarming to see how everyone flowed in and out of each other's spaces.
At the bilik where I stayed, I was warmly hosted by Junan anak Kusau, whom I affectionately called Uncle Charles, and his daughter, Agnes Jentang anak Junan. Their family are devout Christians with many friends and distant relatives of other faiths.
Because it was the Gawai Dayak weekend and many extended families had returned to the longhouse, I also met Agnes' distant relative, Belle, who used to live in the longhouse before she got married and moved to another longhouse closer to Kuching with her husband.
Belle was incredibly kind. She showed me around, shared stories about her family tree, and explained more about her Iban practices. She is the fifth generation in her family to live in that bilik, and she still travels four hours from Kuching to be there every Gawai.
She laughed heartily whenever we joked about modernity and the changes it brings to Sarawakian culture. She loves preserving her familial traditions, but she acknowledges how change is a constant that she doesn't wish to resist.
Case in point, she's proud to still cook her family's dishes such as kasam ensabi, Iban fermented vegetable pickle, or umbut pantu, a type of vegetable soup, all of which are staples in many Iban homes. But she serves them alongside her own spaghetti bolognese or fried rice with kimchi.
THE MANY GEMS AROUND SINGAPORE
The stories I hear from Belle, Agnes, their Uncle Charles and the elder I met during the Gawai Dayak Parade made the place and the whole visit feel personal and closer to me as a Singaporean than I thought.
This isn't some tired 'city girl meets kampung life' narrative unfolding here (I'm frankly over that trope). This wasn't about culture shock. Living in a longhouse is undoubtedly a far cry from what I'm used to in Singapore, but it isn't just about the obvious on-the-surface differences.
What was more significant about the experience was recognising the depth and value of what communal living offers, something I believe all modern city folks could benefit from.
It was meaningful to be in a space where neighbours remember your name and your story, even if you're from ten bilik down and only crossed paths for a brief moment. There's a quiet kind of warmth in knowing the people around you care: That they remember you're a new parent, that you're facing financial struggles, or simply trying your best to be a better version of yourself.
Sarawak also reminded me once again of the many travel gems close to us that we often (unfortunately) sleep on.
When it comes to travelling, Singaporeans often chase destinations that are further or colder – and hey, I love Tokyo and London, too – but there's so much beauty just a few hours away, in places that are culturally rich, deeply communal, and part of our larger regional story.
It also made me reflect on how often we define our identity by economics, efficiency, and global status. In the rush of all that, we sometimes forget our Singaporean roots and our place within the broader tapestry of Southeast Asia.
I find it crucial to preserve the histories we're connected to, honour the indigenous cultures that have shaped the region, and deepen our understanding of where we come from – not just as Singaporeans, but as part of a larger regional heritage.
It's trips like these that spark such conversations on our identity in the places we live, and these conversations are definitely worth having more of.
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CNA
10 hours ago
- CNA
I stayed in a longhouse in Sarawak and it taught me a lot about being a Singaporean in Southeast Asia
Before visiting Sarawak, I didn't think too much of the area. I had never been to the island of Borneo, home to Malaysian states Sabah and Sarawak, Indonesian Kalimantan, and the nation of Brunei. I also only had a faint idea that Sarawak was where many indigenous communities of the Orang Dayak, or Dayak people, lived. I had heard it was "rich with culture", but I didn't really know what that meant, and thus, the place simply didn't strike much interest in me. So, the last thing I expected was a trip there to alter parts of my brain chemistry, but it did. Witnessing the Gawai Dayak parade and staying in a longhouse (or rumah panjang) didn't just take me out of my routine. It deepened how I think about indigenous heritage and culture, and what it means to be Singaporean, an identity rooted in the Southeast Asian region and shaped by the coming together of many different ethnicities. In Sarawak, culture blends in a way that feels far more fluid and natural than I was used to (hi, Chinese-Malay-Indian-Other model in Singapore). COMING TOGETHER DURING GAWAI DAYAK My visit to Sarawak was anchored by the Gawai Dayak, a harvest festival celebrated annually in late May and early June by the native Orang Dayak, which included the Iban, Bidayuh and Melanau. That weekend, I was in Betong, a rural town about three hours from the city of Kuching, where I saw people of different ethnicities come together for a celebration that spanned generations. People gathered to eat Iban dishes infused with unmistakable Malay and Chinese influences, and wore traditional Dayak attire, like the women's marik empang and men's kelambi. They spoke in a mix of languages – including Jaku Iban, Bahasa Melayu Sarawak, Hokkien, and English – and sang Nusantaran-style songs that echoed through the streets. The songs were filled with the sounds of drums, gongs and stringed instruments, carrying a festive spirit that felt both familiar and new. Some wore headgear adorned with feathers or beak-like structures symbolising the rhinoceros hornbill, and amulets believed to ward off evil spirits. I saw women in hijab wearing their Iban costumes with pride, and young boys donning their cross necklaces alongside their Bidayuh warrior beads, balancing cultural expression and religious values. According to the Sarawak government's 2020 census, the state is home to around 2.5 million people. The largest ethnic group is the Iban, who make up about 30 per cent of the population, followed by the Chinese and Malay communities. Sarawak's story, from colonial rule to self-governance to being part of Malaysia, is different from that of Peninsular Malaysia. For many Iban, their sense of identity is rooted not just in national borders but in the shared heritage of Borneo. During the parade, I spoke to a man in his eighties, who told me he had been celebrating Gawai Dayak since before Sarawak's self-governance on Jul 22, 1963. The elder recalled how Gawai Dayak only became an official celebration in 1965. Now, six decades later, he smiled watching toddlers and teenagers drum and ululate down the streets of Betong. Of course, like anywhere else, there are differences and disagreements, and not everything is perfect. But watching people of all ages, races and religions come together during Gawai Dayak, laughing, drumming, dancing, was deeply heartening. It showed me that it's possible to celebrate indigenous heritage without turning it into something performative or commercial. It's not solely about capitalising on a practice that's been revered for years but creating a space to honour that specific culture – in this case, the native people who have lived there for thousands of years – and letting that pride be shared, respectfully, by people of many backgrounds. What seemed like just a foreign parade then made me reflect on my own country's culture, heritage, and indigenous communities. I thought of all the stories of our native people, such as the Orang Pulau or islanders in Singapore, and the way we can continue honouring them. EXCHANGING STORIES WHILE STAYING IN A LONGHOUSE Another significant part of my visit was when I got to stay in a modern longhouse, befriend my lovely hosts, and listen to them and their stories. The longhouse, called Rumah Panjang Engkeranji, was also a central gathering place for the town's Gawai Dayak celebrations and a glamping-style experience. Traditional longhouses are made of teak and elevated on stilts – an architectural design that is more sustainably appropriate in our weather and climate – but Rumah Panjang Engkeranji was built from concrete, a more cost-effective choice today. The longhouse had 22 bilik, or individual family living quarters, and I stayed in the 21st. The whole building stretches about 50 metres long and 5 metres deep, has two storeys, and is home to over 50 nuclear families. Each bilik belongs to a multi-generational family, and all the bilik in a longhouse share a central corridor called the ruai. It's where weddings, funerals, festivities like Gawai Dayak, Christmas and more take place. The ruai is where children play, neighbours catch up, and friendships (possibly even love stories) blossom. It was heartwarming to see how everyone flowed in and out of each other's spaces. At the bilik where I stayed, I was warmly hosted by Junan anak Kusau, whom I affectionately called Uncle Charles, and his daughter, Agnes Jentang anak Junan. Their family are devout Christians with many friends and distant relatives of other faiths. Because it was the Gawai Dayak weekend and many extended families had returned to the longhouse, I also met Agnes' distant relative, Belle, who used to live in the longhouse before she got married and moved to another longhouse closer to Kuching with her husband. Belle was incredibly kind. She showed me around, shared stories about her family tree, and explained more about her Iban practices. She is the fifth generation in her family to live in that bilik, and she still travels four hours from Kuching to be there every Gawai. She laughed heartily whenever we joked about modernity and the changes it brings to Sarawakian culture. She loves preserving her familial traditions, but she acknowledges how change is a constant that she doesn't wish to resist. Case in point, she's proud to still cook her family's dishes such as kasam ensabi, Iban fermented vegetable pickle, or umbut pantu, a type of vegetable soup, all of which are staples in many Iban homes. But she serves them alongside her own spaghetti bolognese or fried rice with kimchi. THE MANY GEMS AROUND SINGAPORE The stories I hear from Belle, Agnes, their Uncle Charles and the elder I met during the Gawai Dayak Parade made the place and the whole visit feel personal and closer to me as a Singaporean than I thought. This isn't some tired 'city girl meets kampung life' narrative unfolding here (I'm frankly over that trope). This wasn't about culture shock. Living in a longhouse is undoubtedly a far cry from what I'm used to in Singapore, but it isn't just about the obvious on-the-surface differences. What was more significant about the experience was recognising the depth and value of what communal living offers, something I believe all modern city folks could benefit from. It was meaningful to be in a space where neighbours remember your name and your story, even if you're from ten bilik down and only crossed paths for a brief moment. There's a quiet kind of warmth in knowing the people around you care: That they remember you're a new parent, that you're facing financial struggles, or simply trying your best to be a better version of yourself. Sarawak also reminded me once again of the many travel gems close to us that we often (unfortunately) sleep on. When it comes to travelling, Singaporeans often chase destinations that are further or colder – and hey, I love Tokyo and London, too – but there's so much beauty just a few hours away, in places that are culturally rich, deeply communal, and part of our larger regional story. It also made me reflect on how often we define our identity by economics, efficiency, and global status. In the rush of all that, we sometimes forget our Singaporean roots and our place within the broader tapestry of Southeast Asia. I find it crucial to preserve the histories we're connected to, honour the indigenous cultures that have shaped the region, and deepen our understanding of where we come from – not just as Singaporeans, but as part of a larger regional heritage. It's trips like these that spark such conversations on our identity in the places we live, and these conversations are definitely worth having more of.
Business Times
2 days ago
- Business Times
South-east Asia's budget airlines bet on travel demand, despite competition woes
[SEOUL] South-east Asia's biggest budget airlines are pursuing a bruising capacity expansion race despite rising cost pressures that are squeezing profitability and led Qantas Airways to shut down Singapore-based offshoot Jetstar Asia. Low-cost carriers have proliferated in Asia in the past two decades as disposable incomes rise, supported by robust travel demand from Chinese tourists. Demand for air travel in Asia is expected to grow faster than in other regions in the next few decades, and carriers such as Vietnam's VietJet Aviation and Malaysia-headquartered AirAsia are to buy more planes to add to their already large order books as they seek to gain market share. But margins are thinner than in other regions. The International Air Transport Association (Iata), an airline industry body, this year expects Asia-Pacific airlines to make a net profit margin of 1.9 per cent, compared with a global average of 3.7 per cent. Airlines across Asia have largely restored capacity since the pandemic, which has intensified competition, especially for price-sensitive budget travellers, and pulled airfares down from recent high levels. International airfares in Asia dropped 12 per cent in 2024 from 2023, ForwardKeys data shows. AirAsia, the region's largest budget carrier, reported a 9 per cent decline in average airfares in the first quarter as it added capacity and passed savings from lower fuel prices onto its customers. A NEWSLETTER FOR YOU Friday, 8.30 am Asean Business Business insights centering on South-east Asia's fast-growing economies. Sign Up Sign Up Adding to challenges for airlines, costs such as labour and airport charges are also rising, while a shortage of new planes is driving up leasing and maintenance fees. This shifting landscape prompted Australia's Qantas to announce last week that its loss-making low-cost intra-Asia subsidiary Jetstar Asia would shut down by the end of July after two decades of operations. Jetstar Asia said it had seen 'really high cost increases' at its Singapore base, including double-digit rises in fuel, airport fees, ground handling and security charges. 'It is a very thin buffer, and with margins this low, any cost increase can impact an airline's viability,' said Iata Asia-Pacific vice-president Sheldon Hee, adding that operating costs were escalating in the region. Aviation data firm OAG in a February white paper, said that Asia-Pacific was the world's most competitive aviation market, with airfares driven down by rapid capacity expansion 'perhaps to a point where profits are compromised'. 'Balancing supply to demand and costs to revenue have never been more critical,' the report said of the region's airlines. 'Go big or go home' South-east Asia has an unusually high concentration of international budget flights. Around two-thirds of international seats within South-east Asia so far this year were on budget carriers, compared to about one-third of international seats globally, Capa Centre for Aviation data shows. Qantas took the option to move Jetstar Asia's aircraft to more cost-efficient operations in Australia and New Zealand rather than continue to lose money, analysts say. Budget operators in South-east Asia were struggling for profits amid fierce competition even before the pandemic and now there is the added factor of higher costs, said Asia-based independent aviation analyst Brendan Sobie. Low-cost carriers offer bargain fares by driving operating costs as low as possible. Large fleets of one aircraft type drive efficiencies of scale. Jetstar Asia was much smaller than local rivals, with only 13 aircraft. As at Mar 31, Singapore Airlines' budget offshoot Scoot had 53 planes, AirAsia had 225 and VietJet had 117, including its Thai arm. Low-cost Philippine carrier Cebu Pacific had 99. All four are adding more planes to their fleets this year and further into the future. VietJet on Tuesday (Jun 17) signed a provisional deal to buy up to another 150 single-aisle Airbus planes at the Paris Airshow, in a move it said was just the beginning as the airline pursues ambitious growth. The deal comes weeks after it ordered 20 A330neo wide-body planes, alongside an outstanding order for 200 Boeing 737 MAX jets. AirAsia, which has an existing orderbook of at least 350 planes, is also in talks to buy 50 to 70 long-range single-aisle jetliners, and 100 regional jets that could allow it to expand to more destinations, its CEO Tony Fernandes said on Wednesday. 'At the end of the day, it is go big or go home,' said Subhas Menon, director general of the Association of Asia-Pacific Airlines. REUTERS
Independent Singapore
14-06-2025
- Independent Singapore
Following his first trip to Penang, HK actor Louis Koo says he has 'fallen in love' with Malaysia
HONG KONG: According to VnExpress, the famous Hong Kong actor Louis Koo had his first taste of Penang while there promoting his latest action movie, Behind the Shadows , and get this—he totally fell in love with the Malaysian state. Photo: Instagram/Louis Koo The Star reported that Koo wrote on a Weibo post on Tuesday that although it was his first time in Penang, he had already fallen in love. According to The Star, what truly left a mark on him were the warmth of the people and the unforgettable prawn noodles in Penang. Absolutely love to come back Koo also posted three photos to accompany the social media post. Koo was deeply touched by the love and support he received from his Malaysian fans! He mentioned that he'd absolutely love to come back to the state if the chance comes up again, and he even promised to dedicate more time to fan photos on his next visit, which is great news for everyone! See also Supermodel Cara Delevingne ties the knot with Ashley Benson According to Hype, Louis Koo wasn't alone on his Penang trip! Co-stars Chrissie Chau and Phei Yong accompanied Koo for the press tour, and they visited Megamal Pinang and Gurney Plaza. Inaugural trip to Penang Although 55-year-old Koo has visited Malaysia many times, this recent trip marked his very first visit to Penang—the charming state in the northwest! However, Koo said it loud and clear: one visit was all it took for him to fall head over heels for the place absolutely. In the comments section, it was clear how much Malaysians appreciated Koo's visit to Penang. Many fans specifically thanked him, noting that most press tours typically confine themselves to Kuala Lumpur and the Klang Valley. Others were absolutely thrilled to meet Louis during the meet-and-greet sessions, eagerly sharing photos of their interactions with the actor. And, of course, plenty of people invited him to return to Penang, suggesting he try even more of the local delicacies on his next trip. See also The Rescue star nearly drowned during filming of underwater scenes Loyal fanbase across Asia Koo , who is now 55, really shot to fame thanks to his roles in those classic TVB dramas, such as The Condor Heroes , Detective Investigation Files IV , and A Step into the Past . His work in the late 1990s especially helped him build a vast and incredibly loyal fan base all across Asia. For those eager to see his latest work, his new film, Behind the Shadows , just hit cinemas in Hong Kong on Thursday. Since 2001, Koo has primarily focused on his film career, becoming a prominent figure in the Hong Kong film industry. He is known for his ability to portray a wide range of characters, moving beyond his initial typecasting in cool and aloof action roles to perform in comedies and romances successfully.
