Free Of Foreign Build by Jackie Parry Page A

lucky to have found someone so lacking in judgmental traits and seemed to love me more as I let myself just be me. At school I had been shy. I had thought that I was not very smart and this shredded any confidence I may have had. Given the freedom to be me, completely, revealed my clever side.
     

8
Playing with orangutans
    There was so much to see at Kumai, such as Tanjung Puting, an orangutan rehabilitation centre. Dr Birute Galdikas had, for twenty years, been reintroducing orangutans to their natural habitat and rescuing them from captivity. The animals were taught how to live wild within the forest of Borneo. The Tanjung Puting National Park was one of the few protected tropical jungles. It was unique in its diversity of ecological zones: wetlands, lowlands, swamp forest, hardwood rain forest, and mature tropical heath. The park had been the site of the longest running studies of orangutan behaviour. The animals that were at the rehabilitation centre were confiscated pets destined for the lucrative black market. We were told that nowhere else on earth could we see so many orangutans in their natural habitat.
    The humidity in Borneo was exhausting, but after a good night’s sleep, we ventured ashore. True to form, we left half of the relevant paperwork we needed to check-in back on the boat (passports, boat papers, crew lists). Although we were still in Indonesia, we had to check in and check out with the officials at each port. The pain could be taken out of the rigmarole if you hired an agent, but this was expensive. You could complete all the paperwork yourself by visiting all the authorities one-by-one. In this part of the world, in order to “smooth” the pathway-of-paperwork, the officials regularly asked for bribes. It was cheaper to deal with the bribes ourselves than to hire an agent.
    Taking our first steps on Kalimantan, we were assailed with the usual sounds and smells of a developing country. The faint odour of sewage, dust, and spices mixed with the noise of umpteen motorbikes and mopeds, ridden with a serious absence of road rules.
    The small town of Kumai was delightfully lacking in the normal tourist trade. The locals were exceedingly friendly, and foreigners were the centre of attention. Feeling a bit like Hollywood stars, by the time we reached the end of the dusty street our faces ached with smiles and greetings. The grubby, barefoot kids flashed white smiles at us and continuously shouted ‘Hallooo Meeeeses; Hallooo Meeester.’ There was no hassling from the street peddlers selling their fake trade and invading our space. In fact, despite the obvious lack of money, Kumai was rather pleasant. It seemed that the town had found its own structure. It was littered with small retail shops, a few tailors, a market, and other such small establishments, where the locals generated their own income. The majority of Kumai was residential. The houses were mainly large sheds that were basic, unpainted, a bit dull and sad, but coloured by the remarkably bright, happy smiling locals. Instantly, we could sense that the locals were content with their lot in life.
    The Indonesians were generally small in build, which made us feel cumbersome and clumsy. Many of the girls tried all sorts of tinctures and lotions to lighten their attractive dark skin. They all sported inordinately shiny, black hair. The women were slim and even though they were small, they mostly had model figures. We didn’t see many of the familiar pear-shapes prevalent in the first world. It’s here I found out a secret to the perfect bust: enormously padded bra’s (which are as attractive as two buckets and bailing twine). These industrial sized items were rife in South East Asia, but obesity here was not a problem; Asians eat rice like the Brits drink tea.
    The town felt comfortable, like wearing your favourite jumper. Kumai’s main street had about four interconnecting side streets. Wandering around trying to find the officials’ office, we