Last night Ben, Perry and I ventured into the jungle around 10:00pm. Evidently, nighttime is when your chances of seeing wildlife increase.  If I’m being totally honest, I might have been trudging along a bit louder than necessary in an effort to announce my presence to any snakes, etc. (If Ben reads this, I will likely be banned from any future hikes). And when I accidentally got the hiccups a few minutes into the walk, I could’ve tried a bit harder to suppress the noise.  Anyway, we didn’t see much of anything except this little scorpion below. Also a glow-in-the-dark caterpillar but I was too preoccupied to bother taking a picture.

The möbius circle is continuing, parts in darkness, parts in light, always continuing.

Today it felt like I was stuck in darkness.  Of course, most extended travel follows a rollerrcoaster of extreme highs and extreme lows.  My day of darkness included feelings of great inability to make even a dent of positive change in the spiraling devastation to Borneo.  Last week a palm oil company in Sumatra set massive fires to the forest in an effort to clear the land quickly.  And so with the raging fires come reports that the last of the orangutans in Sumatra might be wiped out in a matter of weeks.  Obviously the orangutans are not the only precious animals caught in the middle of such evil.  Sitting with JoJo and Juvi today, it all felt pretty hopeless.  What does their future look like?  Is there any land that is a safe release spot for them?  What is my role in all of this?

And yet in the darkness there is always a drop of light.  My afternoon consisted of an inspiring conversation with Ali, a former manager of an orangutan center in Borneo.  With years of experience in this field, he shared stories of overwhelming emotion.  The moment when you carry a rehabilitated primate into a safe forest and lift the door of the cage one final time.  The brightness in the orangutans’ eyes when they realize their training is complete, they are free.  He shared the exuberance in his young son’s voice when he saw his first wild orangutan swinging high in the canopy of the rainforest.  Such beauty and freedom when any creature is able to live out the life they are meant to have.

Tomorrow is another day- fortunately for me the möbius circle is continuing and there will be parts of light ahead.

I’ve been back in Borneo a little over a week.  It’s so good to be here again- yet so much has changed since my trip in September.  For starters, I’m no longer employed.  That was a big risk but a lesson in taking leaps of faith.  There are relationships and friendships that have been temporarily left behind, and their daily presence in my life is missed.  And in the rainforest we learn of burial grounds and villages that have been destroyed since our last trip.  The best change since September has been a potbelly.  It sits comfortably between the strong arms and growing legs of a baby orangutan named JoJo.

It was pretty much love at first sight with JoJo back in September.  Her big curious eyes, feisty personality; even between the hair pulling and testing bites, she easily weaseled her way into my heart.  While I was home, I spoke to various audiences about my experience in Borneo; a Microsoft conference, churches, schools, and friends.  Stories and pictures of JoJo stole the show every single time.  So arriving back in Sintang and seeing her loving local caretakers providing for her (one easy piece of this evidence being her potbelly) was heartwarming.

Also…she may or may not have a new playmate…but I’ll save that update for later. 

Joining up with the global team was another highlight.  They are all so amazing.  The energy this international group of ten people shares is like nothing I’ve ever been apart of.  (The group lost four people because of jobs and other personal reasons.) They are a constant source of support, laughter and motivation.  The running joke here at the longhouse is that we are stuck together for life.  But I expect it to be true- an experience like this, with all the ups and downs, heartbreaking situations, inspiring stories…this is the type of thing that bonds individuals for a lifetime.  No one else can truly understand the intensity of this project.

The past week has been spent reconnecting with Dr Willie Smits, the film crew, all the wonderful locals, and school students here in Sintang.  We have had day after day of planning, budgeting, discussing, planning again, etc.  Some were really productive meetings; others were mind blowingly frustrating, but we are slowly working out our plans for the next 80 days.  Careful budgeting of the limited finances that we have and debating how our energy will be most useful to the local communities are our biggest challenges.

We also had a few days where we were able to dive in and get our hands dirty.  We started with the Sintang Orangutan Center.  Painting, rebuilding parts of the fence, planting new trees–it already has made a difference around here and we are just beginning.

Here’s a few photos from my first week back in Borneo:

A pregnant cat gave birth in the longhouse two days after our arrival. To say I was THRILLED would still be an understatement.

Jojo.

The growing gal! JoJo.

I spent some time painting the new security station at the Sintang Orangutan Center.

Turns out I'm not the most coordinated painter.

Here is my set up in Sintang (Please notice the can of tuna on the bed for a certain furry friend).

While I was in Tembak, we took a hike into the virgin rainforest. Dr. Willie came across a mushroom that he believes has never been discovered or seen before.

After taking alots of photographs of the mushroom in its natural environment, we placed it on a leaf and I carried it out of the rainforest and into civilization.  Discovering new mushroom species, no big deal- just another average day!!

Feeling quite pleased with myself for carrying the treasured mushrooms out of the rainforest. Please ignore how special I look due to the glasses sliding off my face.

Snails the size of my hand, also a daily occurance on Capitol Hill

One of my biggest hesitations with traveling to Borneo was the idea that this project is being filmed for a 3D Action Movie. Being in a film was never a dream or desire of mine, and frankly the videocameras can be a bit intimidating. At least in the beginning of the trip, I was very aware of where the cameras were; now twenty days later, it’s quite easy to ignore them and pretend they aren’t there. There are 12 film crew traveling with us, and they have been a blast getting to know! It is clear they are doing an incredible job at capturing the stories of destruction, beauty, love and hope in Borneo. What an amazing tool this film will be in spreading the story to the world.
Last week filmed individual video “diaries” where the film crew set up the camera and then left us alone to talk to the camera for 10 min. It was surprisingly easy for me, and, while I’m not sure what I rambled about, I chatted away….just me and the camera.

The longhouse is a flurry of activity today.  I spent time with the women this morning, pounding rice flour and sifting for cakes they are making.

I needed some time alone so I wandered down to the river.  One of the Dayak mothers was washing her clothes, and I sat quietly watching her until she finished.  A few minutes after she left, I also turned to start back to the longhouse.  As I crossed the wooden bridge leading back to the village, I noticed her wet bare feet had left perfect footprints.  My stride easily fell into sync with where her feet had just walked.  I couldn’t help but put myself in her shoes and think about what her life is like.  What are her anxieties?  Her great joys?  Does she dream for the future?

As I neared the end of the bridge, the sun was beating down on her imprints; they got fainter and fainter and then they disappeared…

I am terrified of the issues that face this village.  Maybe Ensaid Panjang will find a way to save itself from the palm oil companies that are encroaching on their land; maybe DeforestACTION will aid them in their struggle.  But the painful fact is that not all the villages can or will be saved.  And for many, it’s already too late.  Their rich culture,  deep history and loving communities are disappearing as suddenly as the Dayak mother’s imprint.

Fifteen Eco-Warriors cannot save them.  One hundred and fifty people cannot save them.  Even one thousand five hundred individuals are not enough.  But perhaps if we all spread the word,  if we all start caring and making informed decisions about the companies and products we support, if we all become a voice for the voiceless…

I know I’ve done a terrible job at regularly updating this blog during these
first 20 days in Borneo, but we have been in the bush and so often we
haven’t had Internet.

Currently I’m sitting in the longhouse at Ensaid Panjang where we have been
living with the Dayak tribe for the last five days.   Time passes slowly
here, helping the women in the kitchen, playing with the children, swimming
and bathing in the river, and hiking in the nearby virgin rainforest.  The
first few days here no one explained to our group what was going on with
this particular tribe.  We spent our days with them in blissful ignorance,
believing that their life was as beautiful as it appeared.

A few days ago, the tribal head took us into the peet forest.  It was two
hours of intense hiking where Willie or the village head would stop every
few minutes and explain the medicinal value of various plants.  Pointing to
poisonous trees, they explained that, if it rained and you were standing
under said tree and the water dripped off of the leaves, it would burn holes
into your skin.  To my untrained eye, I just saw green–green trees, peet
swamp, beautiful ferns and bushes.  But, to the Dayaks who work this land,
pouring their sweat into this place, it is an overflowing medicine cabinet;
it is a giant grocery store.  It is their entire life.  These people are not
wealthy with money’ this rainforest is their livelihood.  Without it they
have nothing.

In the middle of our hike, the village head stopped and pointed to a nearby
tree.  A fierce red slash was cut into the side–a screaming sign to the
village that “they” had been here and were coming back.

The red slash is proof from the palm oil company that they are marking the
land they are preparing to steal.

So how is this happening?  It’s hard for me to grasp too.  In America, the
issue of land rights is much more clear cut.  The rules of Indonesia are
blurry and grey, and the corruption runs so deep on every level.
Essentially, the most common story we are told as we travel from village to
village is that the palm oil companies will bribe a few members of the tribe
to “sell” the land of the entire village– land they have no authority to
sell and certainly no permission.  Sometimes the company will take certain
tribe members into Pontianak (the city) and secretly videotape them to use
as leverage later. The company creates tension among the tribe, hoping it will become broken and lack unity.  Then they make their move, tossing in an embarrassingly small amount of money as a bribe ($50 Euros for one hectar), and take the land–the
livelihood of the community.

I don’t feel like I’m explaining it very well.  But I can share that these
communities are devastated.  They are hopeless and broken.  We see it in
their eyes, their dejected body language, their pleas for us to help.

It had been said that just having us here is giving them strength.  Many of
these villages have never had foreigners come to their community.  They beg
us to tell their story to the world.

From Liza:

Meet my new best friend, JoJo.  She’s a three year old Orangutan we rescued from a village called Tembak yesterday.  Little JoJo was quite nervous about her new environment so Eco Warrior Ben Dessen and I spent the night sleeping in the Orangutan cage with the sweet girl.

It was an amazing night with JoJo reaching over at all hours of the night to hold my hand.  My heart is obviously stolen, such a sweet girl.

Teaching her how to use her teeth. I have a piece of vine in my mouth demonstrating and you can see how closely she is watching me. Right after this she tried it with her own teeth.

JoJo's first morning in Sintang...after Liza and Ben spent the night to keep her company

Editor’s Note: Be sure to tune into a LIVE webcast from Sintang, Borneo, Indonesia where Liza and the rest of the eco-warriors will report on their first week on the ground.  www.livestream.com/deforestaction  It begins Sunday, September 18, at 10:30 PM NEW YORK TIME.  

A Dayak house by the river

I’m sitting under my mosquito net at the Kobus house, struggling with adequate words to describe the Dayak tribes I met this week.  We spent four days meeting with various tribes in their villages.  They live in the heart of Borneo, removed from the ways of the world but fully immersed in their rich culture and history.  They depend entirely on the land, living sustainable lives in the middle of the rainforest.

We were welcomed into their tribes as though we were kings and queens.  They have never experienced such a diverse group of visitors before and prepared a full ceremony for our arrival.  Before we were able to enter the village, the tribal heads preformed ritual ceremonies, cleansing the space, asking the gods to protect us and chanting.  We were required to drink tuwak and rub a plant-based substance in our hair.

Eco-warrior Fabrice grabbing a handful of plant mixture for his hair

Dr. Willie preformed other rituals and used the machete to ceremonially cut the bamboo divider that separated us from entering the village.  When the tribal heads gave us the “ok”, we entered their village.

The dry season has left many villages struggling for food.  Yet they prepared their best feast for us and used valuable resources, all to honor us.  It was so humbling to know this, and I accepted their generosity with the internal promise that I will repay them with our advocacy work.

Often the tribal leaders would use an interpreter to share with us how the palm oil companies were illegally stealing their land and how helpless they felt.  Their resources are so limited, and they would turn to the Eco-Warriors with tears in their eyes, begging us to tell the world, pleading with us to share with our home countries of the injustices being done to them. Soon, if the palm oil companies succeed, the Dayaks will be slaves in their own land

One day we took a longboat even deeper into the jungle and met with a tribe who was just told a palm oil company will take their land.  They took us a particular spot–their ancestoral burial ground–a sacred place where 48 families are laying in rest.  They have lived in this place for 200 years.  And now, in the blink of an eye, the land and all the history on it will be gone forever.  What can they do?

The high priestess and village head was beside himself.  I stood listening to his story in complete disbelief.  My thoughts turned to my own grandfather. What if his grave was just snatched away for a company to expand their product?  How can this be happening?

For a society like theirs, they do not have history books printed of their culture; they must depend on places like a sacred burial ground to ensure their traditions continue.  Just another devastating example, and from village to village it was the same story, just from a different mouth.  Stolen land, desperation, hopelessness.

We trekked into the jungle to meet one Dayak on the plot of jungle land he has owned and worked for the past eight years.  The surrounding trees had blue spray paint on them, and he explained that a palm oil company had been there days earlier to survey the hectares of land and would be back in several weeks with equipment to clear it out.  I will explain later in more detail how the companies are stealing the land. It’s all quite complex, and I’m still working to understand it myself.

The final village we visited told us again of their desperation. They shared how they had been praying, and, when we showed up, they thought we must be angels.  Angels?  This is hard for me to stomach because I am part of the problem.  I would be appalled to read the backs of the various containers, makeup, foods, lotions, and drinks, and I believe it would be fair to say most, if not all, would contain palm oil.  This trip is enlightening me and expanding my world view yet again.  When I am at home in America, I am so deeply disconnected to the source of the products I consume.  With every purchase I make, I submit a vote.  And unknowingly I’ve been voting for the palm oil companies.