Vanishing Tattoo --
Trip Updates
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| The next boat to Kapit (which we are supposed to be on) is at 11:00 am. We get up at 7:00am and convince the owner of the Rajang Hotel who has a son who owns an internet cafe to open it early for us.
I fear I will suffer from writer's block. Just before The Vanishing Tattoo research trip I had been hired by a pair of local Vancouver Producers to write a one hour pilot for a television series. This is a job that normally would take at least a couple of months. I had worked around the clock while getting ready for this trip and finished it in less than half that time. And the bastard was good... But the effort had nearly burned me out. I sat in front of a blank computer screen. Still trying to recover from the computer crash of last night. Part of me wants to just give up I am so tired. I am covered with bruises, blisters, insect bites and spots that I don't want to even hazard a guess at what they are. But by nature I am obstinate, obdurate and just a plain pay in the ass. Sometimes tenacity is more important than talent... Thank God for my field notes... The words begin to come, slowly at first, but I coax them out... I can't get the Tech TV request for an interview out of my head. Calculations are running through my head. Tom and I try to figure out what PDT time is. Is it a typo? Is it Pacific Standard Time? S & D are right beside each other on the keyboard. And a request for an interview between 1pm and 4pm on Thursday, November 16th is what in Borneo? Soon my mind is reeling and I feel like screaming.... Agggghhhhh! I finish my dispatch and we rush back to the Hotel to get the boat to Kapit. Everything Tom and I own is damp. Damp from the rain, damp from the humidity, damp from the river. And it smells like it too... I vaguely remember all those different out-fitting places we went to selling all those different sizes of Ziploc bags. I am a moron. And it's not like Tom and I haven't been around the block before. we consider ourselves adventures, not tourists. But we sure should have been paying closer attention to the tourists. Tom shrugs it off, "Hey, buddy, the last time I traveled around the world, I carried everything I owned in a paper bag!" At this point all I can do is laugh. What's the alternative? On the boat ride to Kapit someone has purchased a three foot long fish that looks like a cross between a Catfish and an eel. It escapes its bag and tries to slither to freedom. No such luck. In Kapit we meet Robert Mayau, another Iban tattoo artist who will take Tom back to his old head-hunter friend. Tom is crushed to learn that of the ten old men who had been so heavily tattooed on his trip only four survive. This is a heart-breaking moment for Tom. The trip back up the rivers of Borneo had been one of his strongest motivating factors. We both felt as if the rug had been pulled out from beneath us. Over dinner, Tom and I struggle with what to do. I feel an interview that could reach 80 million potential viewers is crucial to helping make The Vanishing tattoo a reality. Tom still feels the lure of the Belleh... Should we stay or should we go. For the first time we talk about separating. Neither of us really wants to split up the party. But the phones in Kapit are of such a dubious quality I don't want to chance not being able to do the interview. And in three days we will be flying out of Kuching to Bangkok. The discussion becomes heated. I think the material we've collected from the Skrang is wonderful, gold, couldn't get any better. Tom can't believe he's come this far and won't reach his ultimate goal. I don't want this to degenerate into a quarrel. We both want what's best for the project, but neither of us is sure exactly what that is. The dinner falls silent. Poor Robert Mayau doesn't know what to say. No one will say what we know is going to happen. Tom is going to stay in Kapit and continue up the Balleh and I am going back to Kuching to do the phone interview with Tech TV. After dinner we go to the Country Karaoke Bar, but the mood is awkward. |
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