Lingering love in Sarawak

A bunch of roses is not going to work in the Sarawak jungle - the Iban women of Malaysia's largest state quite literally demand blood. Or did, until about the 1920s, when head-hunting was banned.

Decapitating some chap from the village down the river was the equivalent of an engagement ring. A Sarawakian woman would not look at you, let alone marry you, unless you were handy with a machete.

Head-hunting is not practised any more in Sarawak, a state that perches on the northwestern edge of Borneo. But you can still see a chandelier of blackened skulls hanging from the rafters of some long houses.

Just because the custom is banned doesn't mean romance is dead. A man might have a traditional tattoo painfully applied with a copper nail. And that orthodontist no-no, picking up lumps of wood with your teeth, is a popular after-dinner pastime.

The ultimate accessory is the palang - a piece of bone or hardwood inserted through the penis at a right angle. Objects designed to stimulate the woman during intercourse are attached. It is copied from the natural palang of the Borneo rhino: armed with a similar crossbow on its anatomy, it is a bit of a stud in the animal kingdom. Of course the rhino doesn't have to go through the pain of having a small bow clamped to the end of its penis and then a six-inch nail hammered in just beneath the glands.

The procedure is performed in a cold river to numb the pain and it is usually carried out by that well-known practitioner of soft touch, the tattoo artist. You can die from infection and all sorts of nasty boils and scabs, so if you survive you'd want to tell a few girls. The men do this by having a hook tattooed onto their leg. It's the same as driving around in a Ferrari - only cheaper.

I was surprised to see that the captain of our longboat, proudly sitting in front of his Suzuki outboard motor in his Guess? T-shirt, dark glasses and flip-flops, wore shorts short enough to dis-play such a tattoo.

Seven of us were in Sarawak to take part in the Baleh-Kapit raft safari, an annual competition to promote central Sarawak and the area around the Rajang, the longest river in Malaysia. After a three-hour express boat ride to Kapit, the last outpost on the river, we stepped into a longboat and headed for the Majau long house. We docked just as the sun was setting.

High up on the bank a row of figures were silhouetted against the evening sky making a lot of noise: a line of young girls in bright dresses dripping with silver coins were waiting at the entrance. Behind them were a gang of local villagers. At the front stood a man carrying a cockerel under his arm, who looked like the friendliest witch doctor you would ever want to meet. Beside him were the drum beaters and an old woman banging on some copper lids. The welcoming ceremony, or miring, had begun.

On the ground a gunny sack wriggled as a pig awaited its fate. A spear was thrust into its neck and it twitched about until it stopped squealing. Then everyone banged and whistled and marched their way around the compound and inside the long house.

Large communities live in long houses: long wooden high-rise buildings on stilts. The set up changes very little: a long covered galley, or ruai, runs the length of the house, where families come to eat and socialise. Doors off this lead to rooms where an entire family will live. Out the back there is usually a garden and the toilet, or hole in the ground, surrounded by a corrugated metal fence. This little room is also where the dog lives.

The long-house dwellers are mostly hard working farmers who like to have a good time in the evening. They do this with the help of a drink called tuak, a potent local rice wine - it wouldn't surprise me if it fuelled their outboard motors. The Ibans are so hospitable you cannot walk past anyone without being invited in for a drink. My first glass was poured from a Chivas Regal bottle, a promising start, though what came out looked more like a couple of soluble aspirin in rainwater. I downed it in one.

Everyone had to take it in turns to dance the ngajat, a traditional ritual of dancing around a tree. The standard of your performance doesn't matter. I don't know if my drunkenness impressed, but rows of beautiful faces the colour of polished pine with eyes that shone in the dark sat around and giggled.

That night I didn't sleep well. I'm not sure if it was the music or the thought I might wake up with a palang. Just as I dropped off it was time to get up for the race down the Rajang to Kapit. After a peanut-butter-andjam sandwich we all headed down to our bamboo raft that had been built for us the previous day. It didn't look much - lengths of green bamboo tied together with string, and a paddle each.

Though the race started slowly, the boat we overtook on the first bend was our first and last overtaking manoeuvre. Forty-five kilo-metres and five hours later we arrived triumphantly in Kapit.

A cheer from the local crowd echoed across the river. I even thought I saw a couple of local girls pointing and eyeing up our team. I was wrong, of course - it was the men on the speedboat behind us. Apparently these days it is the size of your outboard motor that impresses the girls.

Way to go

Bridge the World (020 7911 0900) has returns from Heathrow to Kuching, via Kuala Lumpur, on Malaysia Airlines for £575 return. Try also: Trailfinders (020 7938 3366), Quest (0870 442 3500) and Airline Network (0870 241 0031). For a package, call Guerba (0870 054 9199): 13 days from £1,215pp and Explore (01252 760 100): 12 days from £798pp (both deals include flights, accommodation and some meals) or Peregrine (020 8675 5550): £10 days from £375 (flights extra). For more information contact www.sarawaktourism.com