#punan

On a hot afternoon, if your day isn't complete, there are still alot of activities that you can still seize. One big part of it involves the river. After all it is undoubtedly the source of livelihood for many folks here in Punan Biau. 

Children would play in the sandy banks for hours, and it would be an integral part of growing up here. Learning how water flows, boating, fishing, and making lifelong friends. 

1st picture, taken in 2006, Im sorry i couldnt identify who this is, @Sylvester Ajang, could it beif you could please let me know. ;)

2nd view taken from the boat, neighboring long house teenager, coming back from the farm or fishing.

3rd pic, one unexperienced (Me) trying to fish using a hook and a line, everybody is encouraging me but everybody is also telling me the fish has gone home to sleep at 5pm. And They Were Right! Good time to think about life and planning to sell the condo in the city. 

Once again, thanks for reading, and i hope those who i feature in this blog can contact me, and if you can relate to the activities above, your’re always welcome to comment.

In fact, the Punan dogs might have originated in the Stone Age. They show us how constructed the concept of race is, a concept that breeders in the West use so convincingly. To the Punan these animals, which European cynologists have often simply referred to as pariahs, as mixtures, are their own race.

Be it the dead Bentschong, be it Logan, his team companion, be it Urong, Lipan, Mi-Ap, or Poa—all of them and their sixty relatives in this Punan settlement are about fifty centimetres tall and have a blunt head with a flat, cone-shaped skull. And, as if constantly contemplating life, their entire race exhibits wrinkles on their foreheads. We saw these dogs in other settlements as well as in the Punan village.

Most of the time their short, silky hair has either a light or dark chestnut red colouring, although some animals are all black, and others are black with white spots, sand coloured, or beige and white. All have fine and attentive sharp ears, and their dark, almond-shaped and slightly slanted eyes constantly observe their surroundings.

These dogs have another characteristic in common: they never really bark. They cry and whimper, they hiss and purr, sing and yodel, pant and scream. But they don’t bark. Their owners have adjusted their interactions with their dogs to the dog’s articulation. Already the puppies are enticed with soft, melodic noises: “Woe-woe-woe-woeah” or “Wu-wu-wuah!” Grown dogs are called with a long “Aiiiah,” a sound that carries far even in the dense jungle.

There is no doubt for the observer that these dogs, living in many villages of the Punan and also kept with the nomad part of this people, are a race—even according to the scientific definition of this term. Zoologists like the German pet researcher Wolfe Herre and his colleague, Klaus Löhle, a researcher for the Humboldt Institute, have clearly defined the term race over the past decades. According to them a race is constituted by a type of animal with certain characteristics such as similarities in build, character, and behaviour; clear differences between them and other races of the same animal group; and the ability to be bred with others of its race and pass these characteristics on to future generations. All this is true for the dogs of the Punan.