22 July 2008

The Rainforest bit...

So the curse of Sebastian fell on us. Whilst on our way to Kuching, he who couldnt make it to the festival rang with an inquisitive tone. He ended the call with a "I hope it rains heavily tonight!" And the bugger couldnt have laid a better one on us. It was pouring as we stepped out of the airport, dumped our luggage at the apartment and headed straight to Santubong.
.View of the Meowland from Somerset Gateway Apartments.

The first thing that hit my mind when i was struggling my way up the little hills and turns at the Sarawak Cultural Village, was a treasure hunt held here would be super challenging. I'd the first rolling back down the hill.

The Jackpot.
We were approached by a couple waving entry tickets at a price similar to that sold at the counter. I am a paranoid freak, are they scalpers? are these tickets valid? before i am done with the are-these and what-ifs, our organiser, Piggy, had picked up the offer and scuffled us in. To the confusion of the wristband-slappers, they let 5 of us in for the price of 4. Muhuuhuu. And we were soon greeted by:
His Royal Awesomeness. Absolute sexyness and i mean it.
The minute i lifted my my right foot off the paved trail and onto the luscious greens, i regretted wearing sandals. Oooooh, the creamy and tantalising soak of mud. This was compensated by towering rainforest, incredible floaty music, woot-woots from fanatics and the lingering aroma of yummy hawker food.
This festival is, to my liking, far better than the Miri Jazz Festival. It feels realistically refreshing to be walking on bridges made of bamboos, watching people chillout on floor mats in replica longhouses, and then stumbling your way to thousands of people dancing to a stage of performers under the shadow of Mount Santubong.

It sent chills up my spine, which Carol Rodriguez Bello from Pinikpikan (Philippines) managed effortlessly. Her primal singing style and sharp ghostly voice left me speechless. I also enjoyed the bizarre quartet performance by New Rope String Bank (UK). The guy in a kilt totally nabbed it with his underwater performance, i.e. he played an entire piece whilst being supported upside down with his nose clipped. Ooohlala.
The music also brought out the mud warrior in some. Mudballs are seen flying distances, bikini bodies accentuated by glowy mud that has some kind of supernatural power in making boys/men alike zero-in on them amidst thousands.

.Blessed by the rain, you never know what nutrients lies within. Soak It Up!.

The so-called adventurous me did not have the stomach for mud baths. I just cant bear the thought of a 40-min ride back to town in that mess. Perhaps next year when we're geared up for it. heeeeee.
.Some queer sights during and after the festival.

.(L): Will the real knockout please stand up. (R): Monkey god salutes me.

.(L): Lok-Lok which i never fancied turned out yummers. (R): Mao-TzeDong serving drinks.


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