Story & photos by Lily C. Fen
What can one expect from a tiny nation whose wealth has rested on the largest oil fields in Southeast Asia?
A state socially pacified by Islam, the wide streets of Brunei remained mostly sedate, with the people’s passions revolving around food, shopping and clandestine celebrations.
Considering that Brunei shared the island of Borneo with the hinterlands of Malaysia, driving through the massive highways of its capital, Bandar Seri Begawan, felt unexpectedly more to me like Singapore. Its highways and alleys were just as pristine as the latter, the maintenance of buildings and infrastructure well-sustained.
I recall my initial view of the map of Brunei before getting there: two little parts of Borneo in the north, nestled right in between Malaysia’s vast Sarawak and Sabah.
How I got there was a surprise to me
Some people could easily opt to fly by plane, while others who had time (but were low on financial reserves) could opt for the long nine-hour drive by bus from Kota Kinabalu.
We found a third alternative at Jesselton Point in Kota Kinabalu: We took a three-hour-long boat ride to Pulau Labuan (Labuan Island), and from there, a final one-hour-long ferry ride into Bandar Seri Begawan.
Kampung Ayer was at the top of our tourist list as we entered Brunei: the famed water village that stood on stilts, housing up to about 20,000 residents. It is said to have been founded about 1,000 years ago, and is considered to be the largest village of its kind in the world. It has its own police headquarters, fire station, hospital and school.
We rode our water taxi into the sunset, watching the low afternoon light wash over red shutters and green walls along the village. Then, we soon made our way into a dying day and shadowy mangrove thickets for our river safari.
I had not read much about this activity, but somewhere in the recesses of my mind was the fact that since the Bruneians had so much wealth from oil, they had not found the need to tear through any of their jungle, as their Malaysian neighbors had had to do in order to build acres of palm plantations.
I caught a glimpse of this fact as we rode into the river’s wilderness. I felt as if I had been kidnapped and woken up to some Indiana Jones-type expedition, meandering through opaque waters, wary of sharp-toothed reptilian dangers.
The river stretched far before me, elongating into sinews of muddy liquid.
Every now and again, we would ride our orange boat into a gloomy grove, in search of the shy proboscis monkeys that lived up on the treetops. They were the size of macaques, but were famous for their protruding noses.
Whenever we sidled up into a shady hollow, I could see great mangrove roots stretching out into the riverbed, some as thick in circumference as a man’s thighs.
Crocodiles were known to lurk in these waters, so I kept myself from reaching out for tiny green coconuts that had fallen into its depths. Who knew what reptile might have been hiding under the surface, just waiting for some helpless living thing to happen upon it?
Taking a water taxi cruise was also a good way to have a look at the sultan’s grand abode, Istana Nurul Iman, or Palace of the Light of Faith, when translated from Arabic. Designed by Filipino architect Leandro Locsin, it is in the Guinness Book of World Records as the world’s largest residential palace, measuring up to 200,000 square meters with 1,788 rooms within its walls. It is only accessible to the public during the three-day Hari Raya Aidil Fitri celebration at the end of Ramadan.
Sidling up to Pulau Ranggu allows for a higher probability of sighting the large colony of proboscis monkeys residing there. We headed out in the late afternoon, which is the best time to spot these creatures in their natural habitat.
One of our cab drivers proved to be one of the most interesting additions to our trip. The man seemed to have traveled the world, but had found himself back in Brunei to care for an aging mother, and to nurture a thriving taxicab business. He knew a lot about the country in which he lived, quoting that of the 400,000 and so inhabitants of affluent Brunei, half of those people were actually foreigners.
There was a lot of what seemed to be Malaysia in these lands, as well: from the language, the flora, the clothing, the religion.
To experience the opulence of this country, one cannot miss the Omar Ali Saifuddien Mosque. Named after the 28th sultan of Brunei, you can walk around this massive creation and see its lavishness from all angles. Rumor has it that the Islamic Bank of Brunei had attempted to build higher than this mosque’s 44-meter minaret, only to have it removed by the sultan himself.
For those who want to languish in sun, sand and sea, there is even Pantai Muara (Muara Beach) nearby. Just be warned that there can be unsightly driftwood that tends to come in with the tide. The beach is pretty enough and can get crowded on weekends. Nearby Pantai Meragang (Crocodile Beach) tends to be more spacious and languorous an experience, and no reports of crocodiles have come in, despite its name.
If it is something truly Bruneian you want to experience, the Brunei Museum would be the place to go. Its unique showcase of distinctly Bruneian bedil, or bronze-cast cannons that were, in history, the source of the sultanate’s wealth, is a sight to behold.
Shaped into crocodiles and dragons, the delicately crafted cannons can capture the imagination and display Bruneian beauty and culture through its workmanship.
Our trip to this prosperous nation ended there, having gone in search of the proboscis monkey, the Bruneian dessert called ambuyat, and ridden into a vibrant sunset at Kampung Ayer.
I felt hypnotized by the city’s atmosphere, with its silent streets and massive mosques. Brunei presented to me another world, one of palatial luxury and hushed mystery.