Sinjok is the name of the village in which I was raised. I love my hometown. These memories below are dear to me and I wish to share them to document these experiences of our tribal village as the customs evolve and some disappear in East Malaysia (Borneo). This is how Sinjok was like back in the 1980s. I never realized how much these memories had taught me that love is the greatest foundation to everything until I have found my true love, my husband. I always believe that we should embrace all of our memories, good or bad.
Sinjok is located by the foot of a mountain known as Darud (mountain) Sigindau, an awe-inspiring jungle mountain. When I was 8 I think, I climbed the mountain with church members and it was so green and fresh as we hiked up to the peak which is known as Banglo. We had to make our own trail as the mountain was not conquered by tourist or development (still untouched by any development) which is a good thing. Anyway, we hiked for hours as we meandered to the tallest point. We were tuckered but overcome with the sense of calm and beauty of the peak's surrounding. We sat for ours enjoying our victory which our ancestors sought refuge from enemies. One of an early Bidayuh Biatah settlement was started at the nearby mountain called Darud (mountain) Siburan. They called their first village Rais (country), also best known as Kapong (village) Sentah. So that is where it is all started, Sinjok and the rest of other villages like Tijirak, Siga, Masaan, Sungai Duuh and many more.
Sinjok has two big football field, one located strategically in the centre of the village, and the other is on our primary school ground. The one in the centre was almost the size of an international football field and one of the biggest in the whole district. It was my playground and often a muddy playground. It was also a gathering spot for all ages as our fathers, brothers, sisters and friends all played there. Each game that was held in that field was never without ample spectators. The whole village will be decorated for the occasion and it felt like a little fiesta. The kiddies would be running around with joy. We got excited very easily and those memories I cherish.
Every now and then a group of missionaries would bring a movie about the life of Jesus and play in on a big screen on the football field. the best and the biggest outdoor movie theatre in the whole Malaysia I believed. The whole kapong (village) turned out to watch the movie and many can even see it from their homes. I recall when I first watched the movie, I could not stop crying at the scene where Jesus was tortured and crucified, it was pretty graphic for a young viewer like me. And guess what? If I see the scene again, I am very sure I will cry again like a little Songek (crying baby) that I am. My brother called me Songek because I cry a lot but I must have gotten the trait from my mother because she often said that her head is full of water. She is pretty generous with tears.
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