A trip to Pulau Sarang, Riau, Indonesia
A wedding, a fishing trip, a food paradise: as experienced by our intern, Amsyar
Hello everyone, this is Amsyar, an intern at Orang Laut SG! I hope everything is well. Recently, the team visited Pulau Sarang, one of the many Riau islands in Indonesia, to attend a wedding ceremony of Firdaus’ extended family. As part of my internship, I joined Firdaus’ family and relatives to experience island life. The following is my personal account and experience during the trip.
The adventure started off with a trip to Harbourfront Ferry Terminal to board a ferry to Sekupang Ferry Terminal. The brisk 45-minute trip was followed by a ride on a motorised sampan that took us to the island. During the trip, we made a pit stop at Belakang Padang, where we had a quick dinner at a restaurant by the sea before continuing our journey to Pulau Sarang.
The journey to Pulau Sarang was an exhilarating experience, as it was my first time riding a sampan in the dead of the night. We were enveloped by the stars, and I took the chance to bask in the sea salt-seasoned breeze blowing past me. I relished the ride, as it was a break from the constant MRT and bus rides we frequented in Singapore. Little did I know that this mode of transportation would be a common theme throughout my stay here at Pulau Sarang.
Upon reaching the island, we were met with a lively atmosphere. A blaring speaker was playing local tunes, and the island was filled with chatters. We got off the boat and were immediately greeted by Firdaus’ relatives, who were overjoyed to receive us. As I took a step into their home and pandered across my surroundings, it dawned upon me how different their physical surroundings were from the built environment I was familiar with back in Singapore.
The island’s coastal shore was lined with rustic wooden houses planted on stilts in the water. As I ventured deeper into the island, I discovered how wooden boardwalks connected neighbouring houses. More often than not, the occupants were relatives, perhaps signifying the importance of familial ties for the islanders. Additionally, there were no street lamps to illuminate the pathway, intertwining the different houses.
All in all, this place was an unfamiliar one to me.
When speaking to the islanders, I realised they spoke a familiar language: Bahasa Melayu. However, their dialect was one that I could not recognise. Due to Riau's proximity to Singapore’s Southern Islands, it is no wonder these communities share the same dialects. As an outsider, there were times when I had trouble understanding what was being spoken.
I felt confident speaking in Malay most of the time, but sometimes, I would have trouble communicating with the islanders. Language and linguistics are powerful tools that unite a community, and the evolution of their distinctive islander tongue indicates the tight-knit bond here. Like the waves surrounding the island, my sense of familiarity and unfamiliarity within this space fluctuated as I learned more about their culture.
After greeting a few of Firdaus’ relatives, Firdaus’ mother, Mak Noni, brought us to our stay for the rest of the trip. We walked through the island in the dark, passing by various homes. We chanced upon several goats and lambs frolicking along the walkway along the way. They were very cute. I was told that the goats were not native to the island, and goats were initially brought over by Firdaus’ late grandfather from Pulau Semakau when he had to evacuate his home in the 1970s.
Eventually, we reached our destination and were brought to the back of the house. Our sleeping place was a balcony overlooking the sea. In the distance, we could spot the Singapore Flyer. It got me thinking about how closely-knit our coastal communities were before the invisible boundary lines.
We then visited our neighbours for some late-night supper and tea. We had some epok-epok and homemade biscuits, which I enjoyed, accompanied by warm tea. We spoke about everything, from the islanders’ ancestry to how some of the islanders’ names were a combination of their father’s grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s. I could tell that everyone enjoyed each other's presence. I sensed that the islanders carried out their lives on their own accord. As if time stood still, life on the island moved slowly against the backdrop of modern society’s constant hustle and bustle.
Bedtime was upon us, and we walked back to our sleeping quarters. I was constantly looking at the surrounding sea and could not help but realise that the waters were shallow and the seabed was visible. I took the chance to take a dip in the sea. The water was surprisingly neither cold nor warm. I bathed in the sea and cooled off after a long day of travelling before getting ready to sleep. The night ended, concluding day one.
At 6am on day two, the generator powering our home shut off, turning off the fan that was keeping us cool the whole night. I woke up sweaty but was quickly mesmerised by a view that was not visible the night before. The vast blue sea and its surrounding islands painted a picture the islanders witnessed upon waking up every morning. It is important to note that the islanders do not have constant electricity running, as the island is only powered from evening till 6 in the morning.
During the day, the islanders can run their personal generators at home. However, it is costly. To provide further context, it costs $6sgd for fuel to power a house for 3-4 hours. It would cost $64 for electricity to run the entire day. It is expensive for the islanders, so they usually have to be prudent in their electricity usage.
After a quick shower and breakfast, we got ready for the first activity of the day: fishing. It was my first time fishing on a sampan, and I was beyond excited. After boarding the sampan, we set off into the sea. We travelled for a while before stopping. We had to skillfully drop an anchor into the water to prevent our sampan from drifting as we fish. Armed with a fishing line and squid as bait, we were ready to fish.
Firdaus’ brother, Faizal, taught us how to hook the baits and toss our line into the water. The trick was to feel the tension in the fishing line constantly. Tugs and pulls were easily noticeable as my hands gripped the line continually. At the start, I was fooled into thinking I caught a fish, only to realise it was seagrass or seaweed. After several tries, I finally caught my first fish, ikan Pungguk—a fish with brown stripes and green hues commonly found near the coral areas.
We would spend 15 to 20 minutes at each spot before anchoring in different areas, following the sea currents and wind. Faizal was catching fish after fish, while I caught a grand total of three during the session. After several hours of fishing in the hot sun, we returned to the village with our bounty, proud of the abundance of fish we caught. We cleaned up and prepared for lunch.
A plethora of dishes was lined on top of a tikar mengkuang. A tikar mengkuang is a traditional woven mat made from the leaves of pandan duri. It is typically used during communal gatherings and mealtimes among relatives and friends. The usage of tikar mengkuang can be commonly found across Southeast Asia. This weaving technique is also shared among other coastal communities in Austronesia.
Our lunch started with Assam Pedas, a tangy and spicy tamarind-based dish. I am used to eating Assam Pedas in Singapore and am familiar with the taste. However, the thickness of the broth and the use of freshly caught fish were game-changers that certainly elevated the flavours. The flesh was tender and soft, easily breaking apart.
Similarly, I was surprised by the Sotong Hitam, a dish in which the squid is cooked with its own ink, mixed in with spices and simple ingredients like chilli and onions. The use of freshly caught squid meant that the squid had a deeper flavour. It was so good that I kept going for more.
In the midst of the savoury dishes, we tried an island variety of mangoes called Buah Kuini. The mango was fragrant, had a more tart taste, and its meat was denser than usual. However, its aftertaste was much sweeter than the mangoes I have tasted. I dipped it in this condiment called Air Asam. Air Asam is a type of chilli paste with a tamarind base. It is much more sour in taste than your typical sambal and the chilli used was loosely grinded, giving the spice a more potent edge. There was a dichotomy of flavours at play when tasting this combination, as the spicy and savoury condiment cut through the sweet and tart flavour of the fruit. It was delicious as an intermediate snack before trying out other dishes.
Additionally, for the first time, I tried Siput Ranga, also known as Spider Conch. Spider Conch belongs to a family of sea snails that are often foraged in coastal areas and serve as a staple in the diet of islanders. The meat encased in the shell was boiled and appeared white. I tried the Spider Conch and thoroughly enjoyed it. It had a slightly sweet taste, but was overall neutral in its flavour. Its texture was chewy and served as a great vessel to pair with different sauces and condiments, such as the aforementioned Air Asam.
Next, we tried the freshly caught crabs and cooked them in two ways: a portion was boiled, and the others were stir-fried in sambal. I used my mouth to break into the shells before consuming its meat. The crabs were fresh and the meat remained intact as I extracted it out of the shell. We also ate the fish that we caught earlier in the day, which was deep-fried and had a crunchy texture. This lunch set was what the locals ate on most days, and personally, I would not mind doing the same.
After lunch, I went out to explore the island with the team. I grabbed my camera and snapped a few photos of the animals on the island before visiting a local convenience store. The owner was operating the store from her home, serving homemade drinks and an array of snacks. We bought ourselves some Bandung, a rose milk drink, before returning back to the house.
In the evening, we hopped onto the sampan again to visit the market centre, Belakang Padang, before embarking on another fishing trip. The market centre consisted of a wide variety of shops, such as convenience stores, vehicle repair shops and various eating establishments. There, we gathered several supplies and had dinner, before heading back out into the sea to hunt for some squid in the night.
The sun was setting as we ventured deeper into the sea. During our journey, we made a pit stop beside a house in one of the villages to refuel. A few of these houses that resided along coastlines sold fuel out of their homes, and all you had to do was call out for them. In this case, a man appeared and handed us a funnel along with a canister of fuel. We fueled up the sampan before paying him and continuing with our journey.
By this point, the night was pitch black. Soon, our eyes adjusted to the low visibility and we started hunting for squid. Our weapon of choice was the candak, a wooden rod with jagged ends to hold the fishing line. We used a special fish lure with hooks at the end as our bait. Previously, we anchored the sampan while fishing. However, this time, the sampan was moving at a slow speed as we casted our line, allowing the bait to move in the water, mimicking a live fish. To be frank, I did not catch a single squid, and neither did anyone from the team. It was surprisingly hard. However, Firdaus’ relative who accompanied us during our trip, managed to catch one. Faizal and his wife were on another boat and managed to catch 15 squid despite using the same equipment as we did. I guess the trick truly lies within the skill of the user, rather than the tool.
After squid hunting, we had another event on the agenda: a wedding. Firdaus’ family was invited to the wedding as the newlyweds were their relatives. We returned to the village to wash up and put on our best clothes before hopping onto the sampan. The wedding was held at another island, Pulau Kasu, and it took us 15 minutes to reach there. An island similar to Pulau Sarang, the island was roaring with festivities. Held at what seemed to be the town centre, a large canopy was the centrepiece of the wedding. The entire island population seemed to be in attendance, with everyone vying for a good spot to witness the wedding performances. When we arrived, there were children performing a dance for the bride and groom, with the elderly handing the children what I assumed to be packets of money. A good trade-off for the children, I would say. The children were clad in traditional costumes akin to the Baju Kurung I am familiar with back in Singapore. After the children performed, a lady wearing a different form of attire performed a traditional Medanese dance number. It consisted of a lot of intricate hand movements and facial expressions. A few of its movements reminded me of traditional Silat patterns, a martial art commonly practised in the Malay Archipelago. I spoke with a few islanders, who told me that the festivities would last until 4 in the morning. This perhaps means that weddings may not be a common occasion, and when given the opportunity to celebrate, the islanders give their all.
After the wedding, we returned to Pulau Sarang, where we washed up and prepared for another night of sleep before returning to Singapore on day 3.
After waking up and having breakfast, we headed to an island nicknamed Pulau Jepun, also known as Japanese Island. Pulau Jepun homed the remnants of an old resort that was abandoned for a long time. The island was named Pulau Jepun by the locals as the abandoned resort was owned by a Japanese company, and many Japanese had frequented the island. Throughout my many sampan rides during my stay here at Pulau Sarang, I noticed various islands with rows of houses that were seemingly more modern than the homes of your typical village here. It seemed to me that many companies tried to turn these islands into island resorts, and when it failed, they left the infrastructure there to rot. This inexplicably damages the physical landscape of these islands, possibly affecting its ecosystem at the same time too. After exploring Pulau Jepun for a while, a thunderstorm was upon us, and we rushed back to Pulau Sarang for some shelter.
Upon returning to Pulau Sarang, we got ready for the trip back to Singapore. We brought back some of the fish and squid we caught, alongside a few local snacks. On the way back to Sekupang Ferry terminal, we rode the sampan one last time, and I reflected on my time here at Pulau Sarang.
Despite being only roughly 25 km away from Singapore, the islanders lived a life that was vastly different from life in a concrete jungle like Singapore. Unlike the Southern Islands in Singapore, the coastal lifestyle is still healthy and thriving. This makes me ponder about how the indigenous islanders from Singapore must have felt when they were relocated, watching from a distance how the islands they once called home were transformed, and with it, their way of life extinguished.
It made me think about how the physical space along Singapore's coastal lines would look like today if the livelihoods of our own coastal communities were sustained and how the indigenous islanders would interact with the mainland locals. The diffusion of islander knowledge and a mutual learning from each other would have taken place. I could only imagine how much the youth of today would have enjoyed the opportunity to learn from the islanders as I did during the trip, and this could have been a possibility had the Indigenous population of Singapore been allowed space to continue honing their craft, and to perhaps provide a haven for them to relive their old life. It was a privilege to be able to experience a snippet of what islander life is, and I am grateful that they allowed me into their home, earnestly teaching me about their lifestyle and sharing their knowledge generously.
How enviable.I wish I was there. A long-lost relative of my step-grandfather by the name of Helmi Dalip was from Riau.I met him once.How I wish I knew some people from those parts.I only made it to Bataam once.Some time... I will retrace my Orang Laut roots.