Chapter 17
BORNEO & HEIRLOOMS
The most enjoyable aspect of his business was exploring the towns and villages of the countries of South East Asia in search of tribal art and heirlooms, such as Martaban jars and ceramics, valued objects that had been passed down by families over generations, called ‘pusak’ in Malay. Stone ware and ceramics had been imported over the centuries from the kilns of China, Vietnam, Burma and Thailand. In later times Chinese immigrants set up their own kilns on the north coast of Borneo producing stoneware vessels for two centuries, copies, originals and fakes for the indifferent, inexperienced…on occasions expert…and foreign collectors, in search of antiques.
The Chinese had exported their wares in the form of ceramics and stoneware jars from the ninth century in exchange for scented woods, bee’s wax, feathers, edible bird’s nests, rattan and ebony. Gold was also bartered by the natives and in 1810 the gold rush occurred with Chinese miners arriving by their hundreds to mine gold discovered in the region of Sambas and Montado near to Pontianak.
The jars were used by the tribal peoples to store rice, oil and almost everything else including the bones of their dead ancestors. The jars had great value as heirlooms and were sold for high prices. Rare were the jars found outside of State museums or private collections, it required a collector like Ennis, travelling to distant villages and longhouses to hunt down those treasures that remained in the hands of the local peoples. Even when the hunt was successful a license was required to export valuable heirlooms from the country.
The population of Borneo had expanded very rapidly in modern times. In 1850, the town Bandjermasin, in South Kalimantan, one of the largest cities in Borneo, counted around 30,000 inhabitants. In the early nineteenth century the present Sarawak State capital, Kuching, counted one hundred Malay and three Chinese households. The population of the whole island at that time probably did not exceed 250,000 persons, mostly living in coastal towns or not very far up the huge rivers that drained the island of its heavy equatorial rains that could reach the equivalent of twelve metres per year in certain places, almost ten times more than that in most of Europe.
The only form of transport into the interior until the mid-twentieth century was by river, the easiest form of communication with the inland villages, roads were almost nonexistent beyond the limits of the main towns.
It was the logging companies that cut the first roads into the interior; these unsurfaced roads were abandoned after felling the giant hardwoods for their valuable timber. The roads were mere logging tracks, viable in the dry season and impassable quagmires once the rainy season started. Within a few years the swaths cut into the rainforest forest slowly returned to nature, overgrown by secondary forest, and rapidly disappeared.
Apart from a few nineteenth century European adventurers the interior of the country remained virtually unexplored until the Japanese invasion in 1941, even then few people penetrated into the interior. It is said that the British Army paid the local tribes people ‘ten bob a nob’ for Japanese heads, whilst local comics suggested that Japanese probably offered ‘a Yen for ten’ for Brits heads.
As a consequence of their isolation the villagers of Borneo had little exchange with the outside world and coveted solid stoneware jars, ancient arms and textiles. As the country modernised, curio and antique dealers started to barter for these heirlooms, giving in exchange outboard motors, radios, chain saws and all the accoutrements of modern society. The local people parted with the heirlooms that had been in their families for generations without second thoughts, as simple storage vessels, which could be easily replaced by oil drums, plastic buckets or jerry cans.
Ennis had discovered Borneo in the late seventies when he had quickly recognised a profitable source of ancient heirlooms and ethnic art at remarkably low prices. At that time there was little control for the export of such items and even though there was very little interest in them he sensed the potential as long distance air travel was democratised and travellers discovered those once distant lands.
His foresight in building up a market in Indonesian antiques coincided with the opening up of the Peoples Republic of China, and a vast new source of Chinese antiques. His imports from those countries - up until then closed or too distant for most European dealers - at very advantageous prices had been the main contributing factor to the success of his gallery and its subsequent expansion. Then, as the economies of East and South East Asia boomed, their nouveaux riches discovered their own cultural heritage, and this coupled with Western business traveller’s discovery of those countries and their culture pushed the price of Indonesian and Chinese antiques to new summits. The economic boom of the Asian tigers brought prosperity to Ennis, who thanked his good fortune for having discerned early on the interest of new collectors for a broader spectrum of antique Asian art.
His business brought him into contact not only with art dealers, collectors, Museums, crooks, swindlers and smugglers of South East Asia but also the isolated villages and longhouses of the region.
The idea that strange skulls could be hanging in isolated longhouses waiting to discovered nagged him. Pierre Ros had told him of skulls that had been found in other caves such as the Niah Caves near Bintulu in the north-east of Sarawak. In 1958 a skull had been found beneath charcoal deposits, which were dated to about 40,000BP. It was associated with the remains of fires and Palaeolithic stone tools. The skull was that of a Homo sapiens, and did not correspond with the emigration to Borneo of modern man in historic times. Had its owner been a contemporary of Homo erectus who had lived for hundreds of thousands of years in Asia?
‘What is interesting at the Niah Caves is the fossils were associated with a substantial amount of archaeological evidence.’
‘Not like in the case of borneensis!’
‘Exactly! You know what the difference between Homo borneensis and the Niah man is?’
‘No, tell me.’
‘The archaeological context of our Homo borneensis is non-existent, at least up to this point, which makes our task very difficult, what we have to do is make some new finds.’
‘I see.’
‘It would certainly sow a lot of confusion in the world of anthropology. For one thing it would give a certain credence to the idea that one population was replaced by another.’
‘You mean the “Out of Africa” theory?’
‘Well if you’re saying modern man migrated from Africa slowly replacing all he found on his path, I suppose the answer is yes!’
‘Mmm….’
‘On the other hand our Homo borneensis could give some support to those who believe in the “polycentric” origin of modern mankind, for example Pei, the Chinese anthropologist in Beijing, is a strong supporter of this theory, though in my opinion for ideological reasons.’
‘There sometimes seems to be as many theories as there are anthropologists!’ Ennis laughed.
‘Unfortunately so. By the way I’ve been thinking about new finds. I know it’s an out of the way suggestion, perhaps not very scientific, but heads are a thought.’
‘Heads!’
‘Yes, if our friend was still around five hundred years ago, then as history repeats itself there must have been some – how can I say it…” he struggled to get his phrase out, “Ethnic cleansing.’
‘You mean borneensis was wiped out by the Ibans or something like that.’
‘Right. Now what I’m getting to is this, our skull is let us say two thousand years old, it is highly unlikely that he was the last of his race - I mean it is highly impossible that I stumbled on the very last member of the species Homo erectus. There were others in the forest. They probably continued to survive for quite a time. So our Iban friends must have hunted them.’
‘And took their heads.’
‘And eaten them?’
‘It is possible that borneensis was being hunted when he fell into the cave.’
‘Yes. So if they took their heads as trophies then maybe one or two of those skulls are st
ill decorating some longhouse or gathering dust in the storeroom of a museum?’ Ennis said hopefully remembering the skulls he had seen in the Sarawak Museum suspended in rattan baskets from the rafters of the reconstructed longhouses. There were also the photographs. The possibility that a skull was waiting to be discovered in a museum, in a collection or even photographed hanging from a rafter in a longhouse, unleashed a feeling urgency in his mind. He wondered whether skulls were still collected for museums, as they had been in the past. It seemed to him that whilst some museums had tended to become more scientific and educative, others catered to visitors seeking fashionable “Jurassic Park” style exhibits, not old fashioned collections of skulls, slightly reminiscent of funfair curiosities that had fallen from fashion.
‘If you have the chance John, why don’t you check out with you’re friends in tribal arts. They could quickly tell if there is a business in old skulls,’ Lundy laughed.
The first thought that entered his mind was to revisit the Sarawak Museum, but the idea of a meeting his old friend Nordin or a run-in with the authorities quickly cancelled that idea. Sooner or later they would know, a full scale expedition of nearly one hundred people appearing at an isolated frontier longhouse was not something that could be kept quiet, even though it was disguised as part of a research programme, the main object of which was the study forest biology with an emphasis on biogeography, biodiversity, and the effects of logging and forest fires on primate habitats.
The search by officials at Singapore Airport was a clear indication that he was suspected of some kind of traffic. Ennis decided to talk with Kim Adyatman, an Indonesian diplomat close to the Suharto family, and owner of an astonishingly rich collection of Chinese ceramics and stoneware. Kim had suggested that Ennis should indeed call his friend Dr Nordin of the Department of Anthropological Studies at the Sarawak Museum. He told Ennis that he should act as if there was nothing to hide, the Asian method was to talk and compromise, negotiation could solve everything and in the last resort he mentioned his excellent relations with the Malaysian Minister of Information, which could be useful in the case that any serious problem arose.
The cross border traffic into Sarawak of timber from illegal logging in that precise area had increased since the beginning of the economic crisis with the complicity of the local Malaysian authorities. The menace of a clamp down at the border crossing by the Indonesian authorities would put a halt to the lucrative business and could be used as a bargaining card in the case of any threats to their research work. Ennis was not totally convinced by idea but nevertheless decide to follow Kim’s advice.
Dr Nordin was an elderly and highly respected anthropologist, who had specialised in the study of the indigenous populations of Borneo and their customs. He had helped Ennis over the years to develop his knowledge on the origins and meaning of tribal art helping him to acquire export licenses for objects that could not be bought by the museum, in the knowledge that they would be saved for posterity in a foreign collection. It was physically impossible to house all the artefacts from the region and in any case the national and state museums limited funds could not permit them to buy everything.
The official arrangement was that the national museums had the right of first refusal, and in the case they declined to exercise their prerogative then items could be exported to foreign museums or renowned collections. A system of traceability was maintained by the national museum authorities with photographs, catalogues and databases to keep track of all exported items. Those items of lesser quality could be sold to individual purchasers by licensed dealers though records of sales with photographs and descriptions were recorded.
Ennis, still uneasy, called Nordin and asked if it were possible they meet in Singapore, using his tight schedule as an excuse for not being able to travel to Kuching and as an enticement dangled a fully paid official invitation to the exhibition, Asian Tribal Art 2000, planned by the Musée Guimet in Paris, one of the cultural events organised by the French Ministry of Culture for the Millennium celebrations.
Nordin agreed, perhaps a little too willingly, thought Ennis as he put the phone down in his room at the Borobudur Hotel in Jakarta. Nordin had business in Kuala Lumpur at the beginning of the following week and a stop over in Singapore could be fit in.
They met in the bar of the Hilton on Orchard Road in Singapore. Ennis had booked a table at the hotel’s restaurant, he knew Nordin’s taste, unusually for an Asian as he enjoyed western cuisine, and there was no point of uselessly tiring him, considering his age, by dragging him across Singapore to some fashionable restaurant when the food at the hotel’s Harbour Grill and Oyster Bar was first class.
At once he saw that the wily Nordin wanted to get down to the real object of their meeting and he quickly dispatched by a positive reply the question of his museum’s participation in Asian Tribal Art 2000.
‘So John it looks like you’re busy flying backwards and forwards to Asia with Professor Lundy?’ he said with a twinkle in his eye.
‘You’re well informed Doctor.’
‘I have my sources of information,’ he laughed.
‘Yes it’s true, Lundy has a programme with the Indonesians to study forest biology and primate habitat.’
‘Rather sudden?’
‘No, not really,’ answered Ennis trying to sound casual, ‘The Museum of Natural History in Paris have been studying orang-utan habitat for some time now. It’s true Lundy’s interest is fairly recent, it’s a co-operation between the two museums and the National Centre of Scientific Research, part of a programme on evolutionary primatology in Asia.’
‘I meant you! What’s you’re sudden interest in primatology and forest biology John…as a fine art dealer?’
Check! Ennis thought to himself, clever old bastard, let’s test him.
‘Why do you think I’m interested?’
‘I don’t know, but there’s a rumour going around that you’ve found a treasure trove.’
‘A pirate’s treasure?’ said Ennis raising his eyebrows.
‘Really John I don’t know. But there are some officials who are unhappy, they have got the local politicians and police worked up.’
‘So I’m a wanted man?’
‘No, don’t be silly. Look why don’t you tell me if you have found something?’
‘Doctor, I did find something…it’s not a treasure trove in the normal sense.’ He paused in deep reflection, ‘Look Doctor, can you give me your word that what I tell you remains between us. I need you’re help.’
‘John, I’m an old man, you know me for many years, if it is in the interest of science you can count on me. If, which I cannot believe would be the case, it’s something illegal, then I would not be part of it.’
‘Okay, it’s nothing illegal,’ Ennis said hesitatingly, ‘it’s something of great interest to science. What I found, is according to our information, on Indonesian territory.’
Ennis told him the complete story. Nordin was stunned; he had stopped eating, which Ennis had never seen him do during a meal.
‘This is truly astounding, if it is true then I am happy to have lived to witness such a discovery. Is Lundy sure?’
‘Yes, he is.’
‘How can I help then?’
‘First I would like to come to Kuching, then you will have to finish with this story of treasure trove. I don’t want police on my back. Then we have to start head hunting!’
‘Excellent, I’ll attend to that as soon as I am back tomorrow. How do you suggest I explain the mystery?’
‘I don’t know but perhaps you can tell them I found some old bones, orang-utan bones, probably left by illegal poachers, that’ll keep them quiet.’
Ennis was right; the authorities did not want any bad publicity on illegal activities in the national park, which did indeed exist, especially with the loggers who transported poached Indonesia timber across the border into Sarawak. There was also poaching of wild life, supplying a strong demand for certain animal bones and part
s for Chinese medicine, with high prices offered to poachers, who were Ibans or even park officials, even though the risks were high with heavy fines and imprisonment.
‘So how is the antiques business John?’
It so happened that Ennis had promised Aris to contact a friend of his in Brunei. It was the result of a jumbled telephone conversation, when Aris had excitedly talked of rumours concerning the discovery of another ancient Chinese junk off the Brunei coast. Ennis had wondered if Aris was confusing stories of the wreck discovered by the French a couple of years previously, which was back in news, following the opening of an exhibition in Brunei, presenting the vast collection of Chinese porcelain recovered by undersea archaeologists.
‘Fine, have you heard any rumours about new wrecks being discovered?’
‘No, but the other day I spoke to one of your compatriots.’
‘Oh!’
‘Well in fact he’s French, you probably know him, Robert Guigulion, he has been based in Malaysia for years, if anybody knows anything about the wreck then it’s him.’
Ennis knew of Guigulion but had never met him; he was a specialist in undersea archaeology and exploration. He had discovered several wrecks and had built an apparently successful business dealing in the artefacts he recovered.
‘Contact him on my behalf, he’s a very nice fellow.’
Ennis had reluctantly agreed that Aris fix a meeting for him in Brunei, with his friend, a certain Joe Hamza. He was to contact him on his arrival in the capital, which bore the unwieldy name of Bander Seri Bagawan. He received a fax of confirmation at his hotel with Joe Hamza assuring him that all the necessary appointments would be made with the ‘ministry’.
The next day he tried to call Joe but without success. He then half-heartedly wandered down to the Royal Brunei Airline’s offices in the Far East Plaza and picked up a flight timetable. Over a coffee in the hotel coffee shop he reluctantly ran through the flight schedule to Bandar Seri Bagawan. Finally he called the Airline and booked a seat on the six o’clock flight the next evening, accepting the agents offer to book him a room. The room was part of a four day all in offer; they had insisted that it was the most economical travel package to the Sultanate! He took their word for it and ordered the tickets.
The next day he arrived at Changi Airport forty-five minutes before the flight, however, he did not leave as planned, the Royal Brunei flight simply did not exist and he had been automatically transferred to their only other available flight that left Singapore at nine.
The Lost Forest Page 17
