Meet Yee Kuat

Even over an occasionally fuzzy video call on a tiny screen, Yee Kuat makes you feel like you are right there in Kampung Gurney, sitting outside his house while he tells you about the bounty grown and reared in his village. 

Sharing how the villagers tend to the land, his pride is evident: “Our fish only eat cassava leaves,” he shares. “Our food is organic, we live in nature. What we have here is about the mountains, the forests, the river.” 

Yee Kuat is of Temuan ancestry, one of 18 indigenous tribes in Peninsular Malaysia collectively referred to as Orang Asli, or “First People” in the Malay language; his Chinese moniker reflects his half-Chinese heritage and education in a Chinese school, where he also learnt to speak Mandarin.

An entrepreneur, he is also the chairman of his village committee in Hulu Selangor, an hour’s drive away from Kuala Lumpur, the Malaysian capital. And even amid a lockdown in the COVID-19 pandemic, he hopes someday that travellers would someday get to experience the land he knows and loves.

Kampong Gurney is flanked by the Sungai Sendat recreational rainforest, the treeline of which can be seen from the hilltop village. Just past the village is the Sungai Sendat waterfall, a draw for many day trippers who revel in its cool, clean waters.

Video courtesy of Native

The waterfall divides the public recreational forest from the Orang Asli's ancestral land, where their durian trees can be found, among other crops and vegetation they cultivate in the forest. 

“We hope to open a guesthouse and host travellers, so that they get to know us, get to know nature, our food,” says Yee Kuat. “That’s why I’m glad to have met Daniel, because he has ideas that can help us pursue this dream.”

“Daniel” is Daniel Teoh, founder of Native, a social enterprise in Malaysia that partners with Orang Asli communities to offer travel experiences, to deepen appreciation of indigenous cultures while supporting livelihoods.

A Friendship Bears Fruit 

Daniel and Yee Kuat connected over that most pungent king of fruits — durian. 

Even the most passionate durian fans may have never heard of the durians cultivated by Temuan growers. Often generalised as “kampung durians” or “forest durians”, they in fact bear descriptive names like durian susu (milk durian), durian matahari (sun durian) and durian daun (leaf durian), reflecting their unique qualities. 

This ripe heritage was not lost on Daniel, who got to know the durians and their growers over annual invitations to enjoy the fruits of their labour. 

“Last year, when the COVID-19 situation was okay, we were able to visit a lot. And they asked if we would buy their durians,” shares Daniel. “So we decided to buy some durians to sell on [the Native] platform. And we also ran two tours, where visitors could be hosted by Orang Asli growers and learn about the durian cultivation process.”

The success of the efforts — some 1 tonne of durians were sold — led Daniel to start Biji Bumi Durian this year as an offshoot of Native, focused on selling durians grown by Orang Asli. Working with 12 growers, over 3.9 tonnes of durian were sold by the end of the season, bringing a much-needed shot of income amid a pandemic. 

Central to this effort was Yee Kuat, who has been trading durians since he was 15, buying them from his fellow Orang Asli growers and selling them to retailers or wholesalers in bigger markets. Yee Kuat, says Daniel, “knows everyone”. “We were educated on the names of the varieties, who the farmers are, the farming methods,” he adds. 

Typically, the durians were sold to middlemen for about RM3 to RM7 (US$0.70-$1.70) per kilo. Biji Bumi Durian however, paid the growers between RM8 to RM25  (US$1.90-$6) per kilo of durian, depending on the quality and what they would fetch in the market. 

“We want to get them better sales, we want their durians to be of better market value,” says Daniel. “We made sure we got the high grade durians, because we really want to change the perception of their durians.”

Forty per cent of every RM1 earned by Biji Bumi Durian was distributed to the 12 growers — totalling RM30,559 (US$7,355) in all. Biji Bumi Durian covered the expenses of transport, packaging and other related costs.

Connecting with Malaysia’s ‘First People’ 

Although durian season has ended for the year, the work continues for Native to help their partners develop opportunities in tourism. 

Yee Kuat notes that growing up, he interacted with very few people outside his village, which has a population of 300.  “We are strangers to most people. It is hard for people to understand us. Or know us. And we were afraid of outsiders too,” the 33-year-old shares. “We are afraid of what others think of us.” 

Those from older generations used to caution against having too many dealings with outsiders. “They would warn us of scams, that other tribes and villages have lost land and had to move,” says Yee Kuat.

“I want people to know why we belong to this land and why it is special to us. And we need to find a way to grow, to develop our livelihoods.”

Yee Kuat Chairman, Kampung Gurney village committee 

The 18 Orang Asli tribes, each with its own language and culture, make up less than one per cent of the population of Peninsular Malaysia, and are categorised into three groups: Senoi, Proto-Malay and Negrito. 

The Temuan are classified as Proto-Malay, who are thought to have migrated to the Malay archipelago and peninsula between 2,500 to 1,500 BC. Today, they live in the states of Malacca, Negeri Sembilan, Pahang, Selangor and Johor. 

Due to land dispossession for economic development and various other policies, the Orang Asli’s ability to preserve traditional subsistence lifestyles are under threat, compromising their livelihoods. Almost all Orang Asli communities in Peninsular Malaysia are in the bottom 40 per cent (B40) income group.

Daniel, who hails from Penang, was a university student when he met Faizul, who is Temuan, in a village near his campus in 2016. The two became friends after Daniel helped Faizul raise funds needed to finish building his home. 

Seeing the rise of platforms like Airbnb Experiences, Daniel lit on the idea of creating experiences where others could get to meet and learn from Orang Asli communities as he had. “Faizul was onboard, and we put together some ideas on how we could show people a different side of Malaysia while creating an alternate driver of development in their community,” says Daniel.

“I feel passionately about the cultural transitions that many Orang Asli face, where they often feel like they have to choose between 'modernisation' or tradition. Many communities exist in between and they should have every freedom to shape their culture as they see fit.”

Daniel Teoh Founder, Native

Since 2019, Native has co-led close to 50 tours, working with 15 hosts in four communities, and generated RM12,000 (US$2,880) through these experiences for its hosts, plus RM6,500 (US$1,560) for a community development fund. 

Though it has currently paused running activities due to COVID-19, it has kept busy. Apart from the Biji Bumi Durian project, Native is partnering with NGO EPIC Homes to develop a tourism project in Kampung Serendah, to be owned and managed by a Temuan community there. 

It has tested out virtual experiences, and also designed online learning experiences for schools with its Orang Asli partners, such as a webinar for the Singapore University of Social Sciences.  

And Native remains committed to working with Orang Asli communities to develop tourism experiences owned by the community. “Initially, these experiences can be booked through us, but we hope they run it on their own in future. We see ourselves as ‘incubating’ these enterprises,” says Daniel. “We don't want to become gatekeepers, because it is not in line with our mission of long-term empowerment.” 

Says Yee Kuat of Daniel: “He has a good heart, and he comes up with ideas. Our younger folks are open to ideas. They don’t want to work for others forever.”

Within Malaysia, Daniel acknowledges there is a long way to go in addressing the bias and lack of understanding the Orang Asli face. “There is discrimination even in our language, like ‘Jakun’ is a [derogatory] word for stupid, but it is the name of a people. 

“Tourism is powerful because it puts the Orang Asli face-to-face with other people. When people have encounters, they spread the story, they share the positivity, and change minds,” says Daniel. 

Yee Kuat agrees.  “We really hope people know about us, then our village will have hope. We have so much to share, but no one knows about us. Native has given us this opportunity, so that we can work for ourselves and don’t have to be exploited by others.”

Native was one of the six winning teams under Singapore International Foundation's Young Social Entrepreneurs programme in 2019. Through mentorships, study visits and opportunities to pitch for funding, the programme nurtures social entrepreneurs of different nationalities, to drive positive change for the world. 

Sometimes, as travellers, we long to be transported to a different place and time, grounded by an eye for beauty and authenticity. A longing that has only strengthened in the COVID-19 pandemic, which has bound many travellers to home.

Terrapuri Heritage Village is one such place.Nestled on a scenic slice of coast between the South China Sea and Setiu Wetlands in the Malaysian state of Terengganu, it offers the remote locale and contemporary comforts we desire from a weekend getaway, but it is no cookie-cutter resort. 

Terrapuri, which means “Land of the Palaces” in Sanskrit, is modelled after an ancient Malay palace. Every building in the compound is lovingly reconstructed from old wooden houses that belonged to Terengganu royalty and noblemen centuries ago.

Behind this concept is Alex Lee, a Terengganu travel industry veteran with a deep commitment to conservation that remains even as tourism revenue takes a dive from the pandemic’s chokehold on international travel. 

The Royal Treatment

When Nozirawati Rohim (Wati) first joined Terrapuri in 2015, she was amazed by what she saw. “I had never seen any place like this. Here, you really get a kampung [Bahasa Melayu for “village”] atmosphere and lifestyle,” says Wati, a general worker at the resort. “Where else in Malaysia can you find beautiful traditional houses like these [in one location]?”

Arriving at Terrapuri, guests are greeted by a gate that recalls ancient temples, which opens to a calming oasis, anchored by a sprawling courtyard with a moat, flowering plants and towering palms.Amid this lush setting are 22 resurrected guest villas restored in the style of classic Terengganu houses: each stands on a raised platform with high stilts, steep gabled roofs and a wide verandah. Beneath each house are implements like ploughs, coconut scrapers and sampans (wooden boats) — just like how kampung folks stored them in the old days.

The sense of history is carried through in the interior appointments. A gerobok (traditional wardrobe), wooden chairs, brass trays, chests and earthen jars recall homes of wealthy Malays in the olden days. Period details are faithfully recreated, right down to latches used to close windows and doors from the inside. 

To construct Terrapuri, Alex began buying old houses from all over Terengganu. In 2006, he started rebuilding them house by house on a 4-ha piece of land facing the South China Sea.No expenses were spared to ensure authenticity. Because of their age – between 100 to 250 years old – most of the houses were extensively damaged or decayed. More than 50 skilled Malay artisans were hired to restore the original wooden structures and to recreate the intricate sobek (filigree) and kerawang (piercing) wood carvings. All the wooden parts were polished until they achieved the silvery sheen characteristic of their original era.

“The project ended up costing RM10 million (US$2.36 million). People called it 'Projek Orang Gila' (Crazy Man's Project).”

Alex Lee Founder, Terrapuri Heritage Village

Yet the process yielded priceless revelations. “I met so many carpenters, house owners and villagers who opened my eyes to the richness of our local heritage. If nobody champions all this, our history is in danger of disappearing,” he says. 

To make the iconic Singhora clay roof-tiles — which were no longer widely manufactured — Alex tracked down the sole living craftsperson in neighbouring state Kelantan. “This kind of roof allows the house to breathe,” he shares, “but they’re also high maintenance and delicate. Sometimes, a falling mempelam (mango) can break the tile.”To put the pieces together, the ancient technique of building without using metal nails — known as pasak — was employed. Upon completion, each house was named after the village it came from and traditional rituals performed to bless them and the occupants.There was one more challenge. Who was going to run Terrapuri? Alex was advised to bring in trained hospitality specialists, but he insisted on hiring from the nearby village, although most could barely speak English and had no experience in hospitality. “This is our opportunity to empower our community,” he said.After nearly five years of planning and construction, Terrapuri finally opened its doors in 2011.

Conservation amid COVI9-19

Even with the pandemic, restoration work has continued, with all of Terrapuri’s staff employed to maintain the property, while Alex continues to hire artisans to restore houses that will eventually be part of Terrapuri. 

To bring in revenue, Alex has been offering “Book Now Travel Later” deals valid till March 2022, which offer guests discounted rates for advance bookings, allowing them to contribute to preserving these architectural gems and ensuring local livelihoods even as travel is restricted. 

Without tourists, demand for local crafts and specialities like batik fabrics, woven baskets, and keropok keping (fish crackers) have plunged, so Alex has set up Terrapuri online stores for these products via e-tailer platforms, to help their makers develop a modest stream of income. “It’s still very new but there is some good response,” he shares.

Bestsellers include the batik sarongs and the keropok keping, a traditional Terengganu snack invented as a way to use up excess fish. Made of seasoned fish paste, these salty, crispy crackers are delicious eaten with chilli sauce, and can be bought in both raw and ready-to-eat form.

Amid the slump, there have been flowerings of interest among Malaysians for Terrapuri’s offerings; Alex has received commissions from individuals seeking classic Malay furnishings for their homes, which has provided much-needed income for the artisan communities.

“A lot of people buy furniture from Java or Bali. We want people to see the value of Malaysian lifestyle and Malay culture, and what our artisans have to offer,” says Alex. “We have a showroom now, and we will keep working on these collaborations, to bring work to our communities.”

A Heart for Heritage

Growing up, Alex was fascinated by the beauty and ingenuity of traditional Malay architecture, while immersed in the outdoors as well as local foods like budu ( fermented fish sauce) and belacan (shrimp paste).

These formative experiences came together when he ventured into the travel industry in the late 1990s, by renting out his grandfather’s shophouse in Marang town to backpackers on their way to Terengganu’s popular resort islands, dubbing it Marang Inn.

When guests asked for excursions, he engaged his fishermen friends to organise boat tours and river safaris, splitting the profits. Seeing the potential of the travel industry, he set up his own travel agency, Ping Anchorage.Marang Inn did well, earning mentions in Lonely Planet and The Guardian. But more than that, his international guests became his window to global trends and issues. From them, Alex learnt the concept of heritage conservation, a concept in its infancy in Malaysia. "Here, old wooden houses were seen as a symbol of backwardness and poverty, not as precious antiques. What was not valued by the locals was prized by foreigners,” he laments.Marang Inn was eventually demolished to make way for urban development. Seeing the same fate befall other buildings in the town, Alex realised the urgency of creating awareness about heritage preservation. Terrapuri became the project that turned this vision into reality.

It is a message that has seeped into the consciousness of those working alongside him. “When people come here, we are excited to promote our traditional food,” says Wati.

“What's the use of flying thousands of miles only to eat spaghetti? When visitors come, we must introduce them to our heritage food like ayam hikayat.”

Wati General worker, Terrapuri Heritage Village

She appreciates how Alex has been steadfast in hiring locally, unlike bigger hotels. “With stable finances, I’ve been able to gradually upgrade my lifestyle...I am thankful to Mr Lee for employing locals from nearby villages to improve their economy.”  

“I hope this resort will stand strong. You need a place like this to let the next generation know about the arts and crafts of Malay culture. Nowadays, children typically stay in big cities; they only know apartments and stone houses,” she adds.

Nature's Grocer and Guardian

Tempting as it is to luxuriate in Terrapuri, venturing out rewards the intrepid traveller. A day tour of the nearby Setiu Wetlands, created by the ocean meeting coastal rivers, is a chance to encounter rare wildlife and meet the communities living there.

The richness and diversity of Setiu Wetlands is not lost on Alex, who believes that ecotourism can help protect the land while empowering those who call it home. 

Though an important ecosystem that acts as a storm buffer and is home to 29 species of mammals, 161 species of birds and 36 species of reptiles and amphibians, the wetlands are under threat from uncontrolled land use. The World Wildlife Fund estimates nearly 20 per cent of Setiu’s natural vegetation was stripped between 2008 and 2011.

To increase local sensitivity towards conservation and improve locals’ livelihoods, Alex recruits fishermen as boatmen for Terrapuri’s day tours during monsoon seasons, when they do not go out to sea. With other stakeholders, he organised workshops and retraining programmes for locals to help them understand the importance of protecting their mangroves.

“If in the old days, they would simply chop down the trees to obtain wood, now they help us to replant them. They have become our eco-warriors,” Alex says with a smile.

Through Terrapuri, visitors get to meet other living legends too: “Botol Man”, a retiree who created a mini-museum from over 7,000 discarded bottles he collected from the beach; a heritage boatmaker who crafts sailing vessels for world competitions; and Pak Harun, a fisherman who can detect specific species by skin diving into the ocean and listening to fish sounds.  

To support traditional Terengganu products, Terrapuri’s tours also include a visit to a village to shop for handicrafts and food items made locally from materials harvested from the wetlands. 

Says Alex, “We have plenty more local legends and hidden gems yet to be discovered. The problem is that all these stories are not properly recorded. I’m hoping to get them documented someday so that at least the future generation will know.”

In 2015, local lobbyists scored a major victory when the government agreed to gazette 400 ha of the wetlands as a state park, and RM8 million was pledged to conduct eco-training for locals to manage the land. 

Alex hopes the value of community-based tourism takes root, so that the people and culture can thrive, and find greater appreciation among their fellow Malaysians. 

“During COVID, Malaysians cannot travel overseas, so we are seeing more Malaysian guests,” he shares. “Most of our guests came from Europe, from Singapore, but we hope to see more Malaysians appreciate what we have here, and keep the culture alive.”

In February 2020, when we published our story on Batu Batu in Malaysia, travel seemed like a given for anyone with the means. Mere weeks later, COVID-19’s relentless spread brought global movement to a halt. 

In Malaysia, the government launched a Movement Control Order (MCO) to contain the coronavirus’ spread, and businesses across the country — including Batu Batu — shuttered.

This not only affected the island’s tourism, it also put the brakes on the conservation work of Tengah Island Conservation (TIC), which is founded and funded by Batu Batu. 

The urgency of this was not lost on Batu Batu. As TIC Programme Director Tanya Leibrick put it: “If we don’t continue to protect the coral reefs now… there won’t be anything for people to come and see in a few years. That will massively impact tourism. Conservation protects the biological assets that provide for the livelihood of many communities.”

What happens to an island paradise in a pandemic? And when it reopened after a three-month closure, what lies ahead for Batu Batu’s sustainability mission? Find out through first-hand accounts from Tanya, Batu Batu co-founder Cher Chua-Lassalvy and TIC Outreach Coordinator Mohammed “Zam” Alzam.

16 March 2020: The Announcement 

Zam: “It was so sudden. Malaysia’s Prime Minister appeared on TV in the evening to announce that a MCO would start on 18 March.”

Cher: “It also happened to be the Singapore school holidays that week, so Singaporeans who were holidaying in Malaysia immediately checked out of their hotels to return home. I found myself in a similar situation as my family is based in Singapore. 

The Causeway was jam-packed – I’ve never seen it like that! I decided to leave my car behind in Johor Bahru and walk across with thousands of people. I only got home at half past 1am!”

Tanya: “Besides Malaysians, TIC team has members from France, India, Italy, Spain and the UK. We were all really anxious and began to phone our embassies for advice. Given the uncertainty, we decided to stay for a while and see what happens.”

18 March – 9 June 2020: MCO

Cher: “Having to close the resort during the MCO was tough. The closure meant only a few teams needed to keep working throughout the period — Maintenance, Engineering and Finance. Imagine all the bookings that had to be refunded and the paperwork involved!

But the toughest part for me was having to put staff on unpaid leave. Around half of them returned to their hometowns on 17 March, but quite a number of them were unable to travel home in time.”

Zam: “Personally, the hardest part was helping my family in Sabah to manage their worries about me… while managing my own anxiety at the same time. I spent hundreds of dollars on standby tickets as the lockdown kept getting extended. It was financially tough as my livelihood had stopped, but airlines don’t do cash reimbursements (only credit reimbursements).

Tanya: “Most of us were on unpaid leave which was difficult, but we were aware it could have been a lot worse. Being on the island, we were able to still walk around and be outside in nature.

“It actually felt surreal being in this beautiful place while seeing how bad the pandemic situation was becoming worldwide. I felt guilty that I couldn't help or do anything about it.”

Tanya Leibrick Director, TIC

Tanya: “We didn’t get to patrol the other islands to see what was happening with turtle monitoring there, because we weren’t allowed to do that under the MCO. We didn’t get to do dive surveys either. 

Cher: “We also don't know what happened to the eggs, if they were poached etc. We suspect that hard times and lack of patrolling might have meant more opportunistic egg gathering. We know that there were divers in the reefs off Batu Batu late at night during the MCO, probably taking sea cucumbers or anything valuable from the reefs. We missed out a good amount of work on the PEDAS programme (school visits, community engagement) so we’re a little behind there as well.”  

Tanya: What we were able to do was to continue patrolling and cleaning the beaches on our island.” 

Zam: “And we also planted a lot of trees...we spent quite a lot of time planting coastal bushes and trees there to bring back some of the vegetation.”

Tanya: “One highlight during the MCO was spotting the rare sight of a green turtle nesting, and being able to release hatchlings from a few turtle nests into the ocean.

We also did an online fundraiser for TIC that was really well-received. I think up until then, I didn’t realise how many guests had taken our conservation work to heart. To come out and sponsor us at such a difficult time for everyone, meant a lot to us.”

1 July: The Reopening

Beginning 10 June, domestic tourism was allowed to resume in Malaysia

Cher: “Since the reopening, we have done better than we could have hoped. It definitely helps that the weather has been amazing! Morale is pretty high — the team is happy to be back, and guests seem really happy too. We have had some Malaysian celebrities coming and our staff are very excited about that.

As part of our ‘source locally’ ethos, we have been working with a seamstress in Mersing town to sew batik masks to give to all staff. It’s a work-in-progress to have Mersing locals own the project and scale it.

Our solar panels are also up now. The installation was delayed due to the MCO. Otherwise, [it] would have saved us quite a bit of money [during the shutdown].”

The Road Ahead

A lockdown was re-introduced in October in selected states and areas, including Kuala Lumpur 

Zam: “On the TIC community outreach front, it looks like our school [outreach] programme has to be postponed to next year. We did discuss some digital lessons, but a lot of the schools are currently focused on getting back on track with their curriculum.”

Cher: “The lack of a clear scenario makes it hard to plan ahead, the uncertainty of what might happen if there’s a second wave [of infections] and we have to close the resort all over again.”

Tanya: “I don’t think we realised until the MCO how much we depended on revenue from tourism, and how quickly that can be taken away. So it’s helped us to start putting other plans in place, to look at grants and other fundraising strategies.

People tend to wonder, ‘Why should we care about the turtles? Why should we care about coral reefs?’ Those are big questions and there are no easy answers when humans are suffering. But the ongoing pandemic highlights that the health of humans and the ecosystems around us are more connected than we think. Zoonotic diseases like COVID-19 are thought to be much more likely with humans encroaching on natural spaces.

Aside from that, protecting coral reefs not only guard coastlines against storms and wave impact, they also sustain fisheries as coral reefs support a huge percentage of the fish population. So if you don’t protect coral reefs, fisheries could collapse and that could impact food security.

What’s more, if we don’t continue to protect the coral reefs now… there won’t be anything for people to come and see in a few years. That will massively impact tourism. Conservation protects the biological assets that provide for the livelihood of many communities.”

Cher: “When you’re able to travel again, do your research, be aware of ‘greenwash’. If an entity says it supports biodiversity management, ask about their projects, how they carry out the work, what are the impacts, do they have reports? Hold businesses accountable...We all need the pressure. Then support the travel businesses that are doing the right things.”