Unnatural Sounds

PhotoCredit: LGS "Sarawak Peat Swamp"

My work often takes me into the equatorial rainforest. Although I have spent quite a bit of time in the jungle, each time I do so, I am acutely aware that I am just a visitor and there is so much that I do not know about it. I do know that you must always respect it and the animals. Not to do so is to quickly invite disaster. Tragedy befalls those who underestimate the strength of river currents or who ignore the dangers of wild animals. Many, even seasoned trekkers, can be overconfident but end up getting lost in even a small area of jungle. In many parts, the jungle can be so dense that during the day you cannot see more than a few feet into the underbrush and at night the darkness is complete. It becomes so easy to get lost, disorientated or to become panicked and afraid.

The native forest people, the Orang Asli, share tales of spirits of the forest and give advice on how to appease or avoid them. Pure superstition? When you are in the deep jungle, it is hard not to give weight to their tales which are told soberly and with gravity. Many outsiders who work in the jungle listen to their advice and follow their instructions dutifully.

Since visibility in the jungle is so poor, many of the tales allude to the sounds that one hears in the jungle. One simple rule that is almost universally followed in the deep jungle is never to call a companion by name. The Orang Asli believe in evil spirits that lure men into the jungle by calling their names. These men are never seen again. They believe that you remain safe if the spirit does not learn your name. Call an Orang Asli by his name in the jungle and he will turn white with fear and you have made a mortal enemy. When travelling in the jungle and if the party gets separated, they will call to each other by whistling but never by calling their names.

Others tell of hearing babies crying. Some have even claimed seeing a small woman clad in white in the middle of the jungle just off the trail and when they leave the trail to investigate, they are unable to find the trail again.

Hard to believe? There was a celebrated case of a University researcher walking along a long-distance trail in the National Park. She was somewhere in the middle of her party but it was so strung out along the trail, that she was out of sight of the front and the back parties. She disappeared and search parties failed to find her. She reappeared some 10 days later, back along the same stretch of trail where she disappeared. It is said that she thought she heard a voice call her name.

Logging often occurs in the deep jungle and the logs transported out by lorry on rough logging roads that run for many kilometers through the jungle. In some parts, lorry drivers advise each other not to be stuck out on the road at night. Occasionally, some lorries may breakdown. When that happens, the drivers try to lock themselves in the cab of the lorry with all the windows closed. Seasoned drivers will have curtains and cloths to cover all the windows. They say when the darkness comes, there will be a time when they hear a cacophony of strange shrieking voices outside their cab. They advise one another not to look out or they will encounter eyes floating in the darkness that will compel them to walk into the jungle.

I have never experienced any of this myself but I stick to the rule of not calling out some one's name. Once I slept in an open tent and could hear twigs snapping all around in the darkness (very similar to Blair Witch Project). However, that might quite likely have been just a wild animal moving about.

On the contrary, for me the eeriest experience I had in the jungle was silence. It was during the day and I was climbing up a hill. All through that trip, the jungle was full of sounds from birds chirping, leaves rustling and the ever present hum of the cicadas. I remember reaching a small plateau just short of the ridge top when I was stunned by the silence. The sun was bright and the light filtered down through the tree canopy. There was a light breeze and the leaves were rustling. But that was all. The cicadas and the birds had fallen silent. I felt the hairs at the back of my neck rise. I walked as fast as I could, feeling a chill that did not go away until I reached the top and there the birds and the cicadas were heard again.

Pure superstition? In the deep jungle, it seems easier to believe.