A longhouse scene in the 70s

It sounds like a hopeless social experiment: take every family in a village and lump them all under the same roof.

While you are at it, eliminate the concept of individual possessions and divide the goods equally, down to the last cigarette. Finally, throw in the condition that, under that one long roof, each family must live, sleep, and eat together in a single room about the size of a mini-bus.

To most, such an experiment sounds even worse than hopeless. It sounds like a recipe for outright social collapse.

But along the shores of the endless, snaking rivers that carve through the steamy rain forests of Borneo, tribal peoples have been living this way--by choice--for thousands of years.

Crime is practically unheard of in these communities, along with divorce, child-abuse, and most of the other social diseases the rest of the world resigns itself to every day. These communities are called longhouses, and cultural tradition holds that anyone who visits them is welcome to stay as long as they like.

Inside a longhouse

The most accessible longhouses belong to Sarawak's Iban tribe (also called the Sea Dyaks) and are situated off the Skrang, Lemanak, Batang Ai and Rejang River areas, according to Tourism Malaysia.

Because of Borneo's impenetrable rain-forest, getting to them almost inevitably involves a river ride in a long, pencil-thin boat called a perahu--the workhorse of the Sarawakian waterways.

It is one of the most pleasureable forms of travel anywhere.

These craft snake briskly along the rivers, hypnotizing their riders with their droning engines while they pass beneath huge, prehistoric-looking elipinat trees whose roots cling to the river's edge like giant fists.

Just when you think the dreamlike scrolling of the forest wall will last forever, you turn one of the endless, looping bends in the river, and suddenly a longhouse appears, as if out of nowhere.

A typical longhouse looks exactly like its name implies. It is a long, one-story dwelling, covered by a single roof usually woven of fronds from the ubiquitous sago palm. It can stretch as long as a city block and have five hundred people living in it, or it can house a community as small as a few dozen.

The families live in large rooms located off a main hall, a kind of social center that stretches the length of the entire building.

During the day, when many of the residents are out working in the fields or forest the main hall is mostly empty, a peaceful, somnolent space of cool refuge.

A longhouse today

In an environment where respect for each other's space is essential to a healthy community, even the family dogs seem to honor each other's small territory. They doze immediately in front of each household, respecting their invisible barriers.

At night, just after supper, the main hall livens up. Families come out to socialize and guests gather in front of the chief's room. The chief's home is almost always in the dead center of the building, and is often distinguished by a fetish of antique human skulls--a reminder of the days when the Iban and other tribes in Borneo practiced headhunting. The practice faded quickly following the arrival of colonialism and the White Rajas of Sarawak, who actively discouraged it.

"These days, the only headhunting that goes on around here is done by employment agencies," jokes Cibu Nuyagang, a longhouse guide on the Lemanak River, according to an article on Tourism Malaysia's website.

Like many of the guides on the river, Nuyagang was born in a longhouse, then left it for the education and employment opportunities in Kuching, Sarawak's capital city. Having a native guide who understands the language and the social complexities of the Iban helps a lot when it comes to understanding life in a longhouse.

Many westerners, for example, are awkwardly surprised that complete strangers would host them for free (out of courtesy, however, most people bring small gifts like candy for the children).

"The Iban like visitors," explains Nuyagang. "It means that their house is wanted. If nobody came, they would wonder why."

On nights when there are visitors, the Iban will typically peform traditional dances and music, drink spicy rice wine (which can go to your head with remarkable speed) then close off the evening by offering some handmade crafts for sale.

There is no obligation to buy anything, but the goods made in the longhouse are almost always better and cheaper than similiar items you'll see in the cities.

Perhaps the best thing you can take away from a longhouse is not a mask or a matt, however, but a bit of restored faith in humanity.

For more info go to our website www.malaysiantourism.ca

Or contact Tourism Malaysia: 1-888-689-6872