Lake District: Exploring Tasek Bera
In a country filled with the bang-bang-banging of the next big shopping mall or super-condo-multi-complex, peace and quiet is becoming a much valued commodity; so much so that urban residents are willing to fork out RM200 for an hour of peace and solitude at a city spa. For a quarter of the price, you can get two days of peace and quiet at Tasek Bera. Not to mention home-cooked meals with dishes such as tom-yam soup, chicken curry, telur bungkus and fish from the lake.
Tasek Bera is Malaysia’s largest natural freshwater lake as abundant with fish as it is with breathtaking views. Surprisingly, hardly anyone goes there except for the odd angler or someone passing through on their way to Seremban or KL or Temerloh. You see, no one really plans to go to Tasek Bera. One of the reasons could be that “there isn’t really very much to do there,” says a friend of mine.
As a place to ‘do stuff’ like jungle trekking, seeing wildlife or going camping, Tasek Bera may not be able to match its sexier and more widely advertised neighbour, Taman Negara, but the lake offers a charm of its own. In fact, its lack of trigger-happy tourists is an attraction in itself and I can think of a dozen people who would enjoy the place: claustrophobics, reclusive writers, yoga practitioners … anyone trying to get their sanity back.
“Here, the biggest product we have is silence,” says Aziz, manager-cum-tour guide at Persona Lake Resort. “I had a guest from Japan” he says. “He came in for one day to fish and then flew out the next day!” Another lady from Canada came for a week and all she did was sit out on her balcony to read. Of course, the resort does offer other activities like jungle-trekking, boating, canoeing, camping, night walks and river safaris but if you just want to sit back and listen to leaves fall, that’s fine too.
About the lake
Tasek Bera, whether originating from a magical hole or not (please see Semelai folktale below), is not the ordinary big, round lake you find in Taman Tasek Perdana or Tasik Titiwangsa but a labyrinth of waterways that twist and turn in different directions.
From the air, it looks like a curled up slug with lots of squiggly legs streaming out of it.
It may look like a weird creature from above but there is no famed Loch Ness monster or monster-squid inside its waters. The closest thing you’ll find is the False Ghairal (a freshwater, fish-eating crocodile) or the reticulated python (which grows up to 18m), both of which you don’t get to see much of these days.
According to Aziz, the Semelai don’t hunt crocs - an Iban who settled down near the lake came and killed them all off. Environmentalists, however, say they were killed by poachers during the 60s. Despite an apparent lack of wildlife, the river safari is still a must-do.
First of all, make sure you wear long sleeves as you’ll be pummeling through narrow waterways with thorny screwpines jabbing at you from either side. Screwpines (Rasau pandanus) are the main vegetation on the lake – you’ll see it as soon as you see the lake, these huge clumps of mengkuang-like plants the Semelai use to make baskets and mats and other handicraft.
When I was there, some clumps were burnt dry – looking like spears sticking out from the water. Aziz explains that the Semelai flush out these plants to look for labi-labi (soft-shell turtles), a popular source of food. The burning also helps clear the waterways which can get very congested with overgrowth.
I saw this for myself as we weaved through passages so narrow I had to duck right down to my feet. It’s no leisure cruise but definitely worth the ride. Can you imagine sailing into a Dali painting? That’s how it felt like. Some parts of the lake are so calm, you feel like you’re slicing through a mirror. And from a distance you can’t tell where the reflection of the reeds ends or where the reel reeds begin, making it all very dream-like.
Protected site
Ask an ecologist, however, and Tasek Bera presents whole set of other wonders. This is Tasek Bera, Malaysia’s largest natural freshwater lake surrounded by peat swamp forests, wetlands biodiversity and natural water filtrations. In simple terms, this lake helps control floods, keeps the entire ecosystem in check and puts a lid on global warming. A lake so important it was declared a RAMSAR site in 1994 – indicating its international importance as a wetlands as well as the government’s pledge to protect the area.
There are 300 species of protected plants in Tasek Bera, 200 birds, 19 kinds of frogs and 10 different kinds of tortoises. Brochures mention plenty of exciting species like the tapir, clouded leopard, flying lemur and the endemic Purple Water Trumpet. I, however, saw a total of five squirrels, a couple of birds and maybe (it was dark) one Slow Lorris. It may have been my unkeen eye, more keen at spotting a shoe on sale than a white-breasted herring, but if it wasn’t, Tasek Bera may very well need some protecting.
The people of the lake
Protection, however, alters the lifestyle of the people who live around the lake – the Semelai. RAMSAR laws have put a cap on the activities the Semelai have depended on for hundreds of years – hunting, fishing and shifting cultivation. As a result, these riverine people are turning to other sources of survival such as cash crop plantations and to a lesser extent, ecotourism.
There are about 4,000 Semelai in Peninsular Malaysia, of which about 1,000 live around the lake area. The Semelai are said to be one of the most upwardly mobile Orang Asli communities in Malaysia, partly due to the government’s resettlement programme during the 50s when communist insurgents were on the rise. During this time, the traditionally semi-nomadic Semelai were relocated to five villages in the Pos Iskandar area to prevent them from collaborating with communist guerillas. Till today, many Semelai remain there as they are not allowed to return to their original homes. On the flip side, they take advantage of the free housing, clinics, roads and access to schools.
Semelai Homestay
We were to stay with Sai and his family at Kampung Gabendring. All homestay guests must first register at the Wetlands Office at Pos Iskandar. From there, it was a pleasant drive through marshy lowlands and bubbly brooks and small plantations filled with rubber, hill rice, tapioca, sugarcane and yam. We also noticed a strange mix of wooden huts and square, concrete houses – the latter being the government-sponsored PPRT homes.
After ten minutes, we pulled up to one of these gray, concrete blocks. “Are we staying here?” I asked Ambri, Sai’s 26-year old son. He nodded, smiling. “What about that?” I asked, gesturing to a wooden structure behind. “Oh, that’s the kitchen,” he replied. I looked admiringly at the wooden hut, with leafy attap roof.
Later, I found out that the kitchen had been the family home – for ten years. Eight months ago, Sai and his family moved into this concrete block of a house the size of a security guardhouse. It fit one living room, one bathroom and two small bedrooms, sealed with a solid zinc roof. “Do you like your new house?” I asked my hosts. Ambri shrugged shyly and said it was okay and that it got a little hot in the day. His mother said it got very hot and she and Sai slept in the kitchen behind. “Tak biasa-lah,” she said. Apparently, it is not uncommon for some families to have two homes – one, the concrete PPRT home, and the other, their traditional house where they cook and sleep in.
At the moment, the PPRT homes look flash and new with modern plumbing and fancy fixtures but there is no electricity or running water inside. Ambri’s mother sighs. The electricity was supposed to come months ago. They promised bulan tujuh, then bulan sepuluh. Now it was bulan dua belas and it still hadn’t come.
We sit on the concrete floor, lined with a floral plastic sheet that does nothing to soften the hardness of the ground. Sai’s daughter comes in and introduces us to her one year-old daughter, Patricia. “Christian,” Sai explains, as the father, Ricky, is a Christian Iban from Miri. He tells us there are quite a few Christians in the area and there is a Roman Catholic church at the nearby Kampung Putat.
Is there a surau as well? “Yes, there is one in Pos Iskandar but nobody uses it,” says Sai.
“Then why do they build it?”
“I don’t know, they just want to build it,” he says.
The real deal
For what it’s worth, the Semelai homestay experience is truly authentic. The people are friendly and you get to see their lives as it is today – Orang Asli in transition. They plant rubber instead of cultivate swiddens. They live in concrete houses with no electricity.
They bathe in the river - or simply by stepping outside - if it rains. They are learning to live in sweltering houses and watch WWE on TV. Yes, this is truly Malaysia, truly Asia.
As the homestay is a relatively new concept for the Semelai, there is no fixed package or show specially for tourists – yet. The advantage of this is that you never know what you will experience because it will depend on the family you stay with or whatever happens during your stay. For example, during my stay, Ambri’s mother was ill – she was complaining of headaches, so we witnessed a traditional Semelai healing ritual.
It was right after dinner and everyone was sitting around the kitchen engaging in the usual after dinner chit chat. One of the ladies started grinding some rice in a coconut shell into a sticky white paste. Ambri’s mum then casually took off her top and lay down on a mat. The others in the room did not blink an eye. They carried on with their conversations, dragging on their roll-ups.
I watched an elderly man heat up the newly made rice ball over a candle and then roll it across his patient’s head, stomach and back. After the process, which took about 5 minutes, the ‘dough-maker’ lady started peeling open the rice ball and picking out what looked like invisible pieces of dirt. Presumably, some kind of toxins or bad energy from Ambri’s mother’s body. I wasn’t sure and it didn’t seem right to ask at the time.
The next day, it was sunny and bright. I asked Ambri if the ritual had worked. He said no, not really. “Does she want Panadol?” I asked, not even sure if they knew what Panadol was. He said, “Yah, you have?” And so I gave him the strip I had left. If the bomoh’s magic hadn’t worked, hopefully the magic of modern drugs would.
The other Semelai
While most of the Semelai stay in Pos Iskandar and the surrounding kampungs, a few have returned to their traditional homelands near the lake. We visited Kampung Gegereh, a village near Jeti Sungai Bera. These people don’t get the free government homes and benefits, but they gain access to their old family land, ancestral graves, the river and some would say, their freedom.
The permanency of their lifestyle, however, is not guaranteed as they have no official rights to the land. But for the time being, they seem to be faring well, perhaps better than their counterparts further up the lake. Aziz told us that some of his friends earn about RM5000 a month from rubber. “Some of these people have ten to sixty acres of land,” he said. In Pos Iskandar, each family is only allocated about 5 acres of land – and that is if they’re lucky.
Over the past few months rubber prices have shot up making it an extremely lucrative industry. For the Semelai people, it is much more lucrative than fishing, hunting or making handicraft, which as a result, have all taken a back seat to rubber. We meet the village headman in front of his house and he welcomes us with a big smile.
“How many families stay here?” I asked, wondering how big the village was. “One,” he said. “Only one?” “Yes, over there is my sister’s place. There, my brother’s. And there my cousin’s,” he said, pointing out various wooden houses in the area. Then I realised that eventhough there were five houses in the village, they were all from the same extended family – which is the way the Semelai have lived for centuries.
Despite being forced into the market economy, the Semelai seem to maintain whatever traditions they can. If the people here were said to be much wealthier I saw no sign of it as there were no fancy cars or modern luxuries and the houses were all made of wood and attap leaves. Walking away, Aziz assured me, “the lifestyles don’t change, but the money is there.”
Verdict
If you want the real deal, this is it. A real lake with real people. No plastic paddle boats, no fake flowers or tree trunks made of cement. I’d say plan a trip to Tasek Bera. Hopefully, Sai and his family would have their electricity by then.
Getting there
There is no direct public transport to Tasek Bera. It’s about a 4 hour drive from Kuala Lumpur. Two points of entry: Kuala Lumpur- Bahau-Melati-Tasek Bera
Kuala Lumpur-Temerloh-Kerayong-Tasek Bera
From KL, you can also take a bus to Temerloh and then a taxi to Tasek Bera for about RM38
The origins of Tasek Bera (as told to me by a Semelai man)
Warning: According to the Semelai, this story cannot be told if you’re anywhere near the lake for disaster will strike, heavy rains will fall and your boat will be overturned. In case you’re wondering, this story was told to me in the safety of a hut at Kampung Gabendring which is a good fifteen minutes from the lake. Hence, there was no storm or flood, although it did rain - very heavily …
Once upon a time, there was a dog that started to bark and bark at an old keruing tree. His master came out of the house and was wondering why his dog was behaving in such a way. Then he looked at the tree and saw that there was a strange kind of liquid in it. He took out his axe and began hacking at the tree. Inside, he found a special kind of oil - keruing oil, which he excitedly brought home and used to prepare a feast for the villagers.
Everyone went to the feast except for an old woman and her grandson who were not feeling well. During the festivity, an old man suddenly appeared at the door and struck his staff into the ground. He asked the villagers to try and pull it out but no one could.
After everyone had tried – and failed, the old man lifted the staff out, almost effortlessly, and water started to pour out of the hole.
The villagers started to panic and tried to block the hole with a pot, and then a basket, and then a mat, but nothing could stop the water from pouring out. In the end, there was nothing else they could do but run. So they ran and ran in all directions, up the hill, down the valley, to the east and to the west. Yet, the water chased and followed and drowned every single one of them.
As legend has it, the sprouting water became the lake. The people that ran into the forest became deer. The ones that climbed up the trees became birds and the frogs that croak at night are the ones that shouted and fell into the water. As for the old woman and her grandson – they were the ones that lived to tell the story.
