The story goes that Brunei is derived from the word barunah. As early settlers reached the Brunei River, they were captivated by the beauty and richness of the place. Barunah! they exclaimed in delight. The classical Malay expression (roughly translated as "Oh, yeah!") was not only in appreciation of the physical attractiveness and lush natural richness of the site. Just as importantly, the area was deemed ideal by the settlers because it offered security from marauders and easy access for trade. The exclamation became the name of the new city state. The third Sultan Sharif Ali later added Darussalam, the Arabic word that means "abode of peace," in the 15th century. And thus, the country is known today as Brunei Darussalam.
Barunah indeed. The fast boat (or "water taxi") brought us to Kampong Ayer, one of the world’s largest water villages, a settlement that has lasted 600 years. Houses standing on stilts were built on the shallows of the Brunei River in the 14th century, and the community endures today. It is a thriving village of homes, schools, and even a police station built on top of the water. Technology has brought with it not only the latest facilities and accoutrements of modern living, but also improvements in the sewerage system. Thus, the river remains relatively clean and able to support marine life. As we negotiated the waterways, we caught glimpses of Kampong Ayer’s residents going about their usual daily routines. Schoolchildren on a snack break waved to us from the windows of their classroom while a woman poured what looked like excess orange juice from a pitcher into the river, an elderly woman half hidden behind a pale yellow curtain stared dispassionately as curious tourists in boats passed by, and a young housewife busily watered flourishing pots of bright fuchsia, white and lavender bougainvillea, oblivious to the steady stream of boats buzzing through the waterway. Gazing at the shoreline, one can easily distinguish the towering minarets of a distant mosque, partially concealed by a cluster of smaller buildings.
The mosques of Brunei are an architectural delight. One can go to the Jame’Asr Hassanil Bolkiah Mosque and marvel at the gold domes, but one is required to remove his footwear before entering. In accordance with local custom, women are required to cover their heads and dress conservatively. For us, black robes and head- scarves were available. To visit the mosque at night is a visual treat. Numerous lights strategically light the mosque, and it gleams like an enormous gem. Indeed, it is a fitting monument to a devout people who live their faith.
It is impossible to overlook the evident richness of Bruneian culture. At the Royal Regalia Museum, gold predominates. Although the miniature version of the throne room of the Sultan’s palace in the museum is merely a diminutive reproduction, one can easily imagine the magnificence and splendor of the real structure with its crystal chandeliers and gold-encrusted walls. Brunei’s prosperous oil industry is also apparent, with miniature reproductions of the oil wells – also in gold. Understandably, however, photographs are not allowed to be taken within the museum.
To be able to feel the pulse of the ordinary people, one must visit the night market of Bandar Seri Begawan. The cooked delicacies are a multicultural feast of Malay, Indian, Chinese, Indonesian and Western influences. Bruneian kueh-meh or biscuits and sweets are sold in a section of the market near the fruits. The Bruneian call the fruit by unfamiliar names: cempedak, tarap, belunu, membangan, binjal, but the fruits are familiar. They have durian, rambutan, mangoes, lanzones, marang and bananas. As we feasted on a variety of durian with bright yellow-orange flesh and breathed in faint whiffs of fragrant Indonesian clove cigarettes that were being smoked nearby, it became clear to us that, other than gold, Brunei’s friendly, honest, courteous and hospitable people are its other greatest treasure.
We thought it couldn’t get better, but a trip to Ulu Temburong proved us wrong. The Peryadan Forest Reserve showed us that Brunei’s wealth is not measured in the currency of gold, oil, people or culture alone. Riding in a swift temuai or motorized canoe through the rushing waters of a clear river, the thickness of the forest canopy was bewitching. Mosses and ferns grew thickly on the branches of ancient trees, and multi-hued birds darted from tree to tree. In various sandbars that we passed, egrets waded in shallow water, feeding on the fish that were trapped in eddies. They seemed unperturbed as we passed by, barely glancing up at the hum of our canoe’s motor. Enormous tree trunks from aged trees knocked down by wind were left where they fell like picturesque natural installations. And, to get to the canopy walk, one had to traverse a wooden path that was, more accurately, an uphill climb of 1,226 steps, leading up a steel structure that soared above the treetops.
As one surveyed the unbroken horizon of green from above, however, one could only revel in the splendor of the forest. The difficulty of the climb was soon forgotten.
In Brunei where the rich forests throb with life, even man and nature are at peace.