Log 18-07-13

July 18, 2013

Land Inspection: Drove all the way to SR to met up with the reclusive village elders in the highlands – this is the traditional Malay warrior heartland, where men of standing still carry the traditional Kris (ceremonial knife) as a sign of their status and authority during formal occasions. Supertition runs deep in these forgotten parts – where spirits are very real.  The mythical Orang Bunyan live here they say – even in the village below the highlands, the Malays do not dare to venture here as curses, spells and spirts guard every pass.

I am very familiar with their ways – as I am often seen with the tribesmen in the jungle whenever we come across the highlanders prospecting for perfume wood in the jungle –  they do not regard me as a human being, not even a Chinese – as by nature, they consider the Chinese greedy. Rather they see me as the tribesmen see me – as the white monitor lizard they all call a “Ah Mak.”

It is very difficult to explain this idea where fact and fiction, mythology and the practical realities of life can merge so seamlessly to create a way of life that has gone on for centuries – where they even have their own parlance which differs considerably from standard Bahasa – in these parts, the verb is used first as in the ancient times – words that have long sinced died come alive here. It is a world that my enemies do not dare to thread. As the highlanders are a law upon themselves – men who turn the wheel of life by regularly going deep into the jungle to search for valuable perfume wood have no fear and very little respect for authority. 

When I first came here I invested heavily in building deep spirited ties, relationship and good will – while my enemies considered them lazy and useless people who often stole their palm bunches – I lived amongst these dark skinned men and learnt their ways, customs and even imitated how a noble man will hold his Kris when he speaks; along with respecting their customs like how one throws a coin into a river to appease the water spirits before crossing it. Now I am here to call in all my favors, good will and friendship. It is time as they say here, for one hand to help clean the other.

Relationship is taken very seriously in these parts – a man’s word is his bond. Break it and you will likely to end up dead.

Life has changed very little here for over two centuries – on the way up to the mountain – I shared with the elders my plans to acquire more land. I gave them my word as a “Orang Kaya,” (noble man) that once I acquire these lands, they can harvest the crops. They seem to be agreeable as they do not like my enemies who seem to give nothing back to the local community.

In these parts a man’s word is his bond. So we sealed our agreement in the ancient way where a man cuts his hand and shakes the hand of another noble man – once we reached the plateau at the very top of the hill oil palm estate – I was able to survey the virgin jungle sorrounding the lands of my enemies who they have put up recently for sale. I could just make out the three rivers – it is very clear to me work must start now. My tribesmen and the village elders agreed as well.

For this diabolical plan to work, we do not have much time. As the Monsoon will arrive early this year in my opinion – maybe even as early as mid August.

Secret arrangement have been made with both the tribesmen and villagers to begin damming up the river.  There is no law against this.

When the Monsoon naturally comes – their lands will be flooded very naturally. They would naturally say, “its the work of that fucking city troublemaker again.” They will naturally believe I am responsible for this. I along with the village elders of the highlands and the tribesmen would naturally deny this – after all who would ever believe that a respectable landowner would spend his time romping around in the jungle to survey rivers? They would all naturally believe that I would rather be playing golf or sitting in an aircon cave. That after all is what landowners naturally do during the dry spell.

The long and short of it is simply this, my enemies wouldn’t know what hit them.  Then and only then will I approach them to dictate terms to them buy these parcels of swamp land from them.

All warfare is based on deception. Above all warfare is the ultimate game of cerebral fitness – I must never allow my emotion to get the better of me. I be cold and calculating in my designs to arrange a decisive victory.

Health: I seem to be losing weight rapidly. I suspect this is due to my inability to sleep well coupled with a general lack of apetite. I need to rest seriously.

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