Foraging for knowledge
Artist Syarifah Nadhirah shares tales she has learnt from Orang Asli communities about sustainability, food and our forests in her book In Recalling Forgotten Tastes.
IN a little epilogue of sorts titled “Seeding Inspiration” in the quaint book self-published by Syarifah Nadhirah, Recalling Forgotten Tastes, the local illustrator says that generations ago the information contained in this “guide” would have been common knowledge.
However, thanks to our complete reliance on the industrialisation and marketisation of food, we have become removed, detached, ignorant and apathetic about the produce in our very own lush backyard – our forests.
Born and raised in Kuala Lumpur, Syarifah furthered her studies in architecture at the International Islamic University Malaysia in Gombak, Selangor and currently runs a design and print company called Paperweight Studio.
“On the side, I practise as an artist, and work on different projects such as this book,” shared the 27-year-old in a recent interview.
Amid the dreariness of the times, Syarifah inspires a hope for the future by exploring her past, and reconnecting with her own roots as well as those of our indigenous communities and the land.
Made possible with grant funding from INXO Arts Foundation in 2019, Syarifah’s Recalling Forgotten Tastes is an illustrated collection of forest edibles, centred on environmental knowledge and traditional culinary practices of the Orang Asli communities in Peninsular Malaysia, primarily from the Semai and Temuan subgroups.
Her love for food is what initially sparked the idea for the book.
“The idea of food and where it comes from has always excited me,” she said.
“In my household now, there’s only me and my mum left. And like many other mother-daughter relationships, I think we connect mostly through food. Mum is an avid cook, and holds on dearly to age-old recipes, passed down from Grandma. She is always telling me interesting stories of how her family acquired food in the 1950s and 1960s in Muar, Johor where she grew up.”
Syarifah said that because she was not privy to first-hand accounts from her grandmother, mum’s knowledge and memories have instilled in her a deep sense of nostalgia.
“I can vividly remember my grandmother’s briyani and telur pindang. She said the more onions you put in, the better it’ll taste. And she was right, even if that meant we had to cut and dice 30 or 40 onions under her orders! My grandmother was the sort of person who didn’t mind squatting on the floor pounding chillis and herbs anytime her children and grandchildren came to visit.
“My first memories of food revolve around festive events, and lots of spices and herbs. My mum cooks briyani and nasi bukhari effortlessly. Her rule is to never measure things, but to go with your gut.”
Syarifah explained that her mother’s recipes and stories have always made her curious about the history of food, and plants more specifically.
“I have noticed however that Mum doesn’t have extensive knowledge about the plants that she uses in her cooking. Since moving to the city from Muar in the 1970s, she became detached from the idea of growing her own food,” explained Syarifah, adding that once in the city, her mum began working.
Syarifah has always loved drawing botanicals and anything related to nature and said that at some point she was inspired to do more research about local ecology.
An encounter with anthropologist Dr Rusaslina Idrus in 2018 led to meeting a Temuan community in Labu, Negri Sembilan.
“They welcomed me like family. And I have Dr Rusaslina to thank for inviting me to be in the same space. It was a humbling experience to celebrate Christmas with them, and one of the ladies took us on a garden tour,” recalled the artist.
“Shortly after that experience, I enrolled into an art residency (Rimbun Dahan programme in 2019) which ultimately led to the birth of this book project.”
Finding a great guide
As fate would have it, Syarifah later met Raman Bah Tuin, an Orang Asli from Kampung Batu 12 Gombak in KL.
“I remember how enthusiastic he was to tell us about his Semai culture and heritage. As it turned out, he lives in Gombak which is a stone’s throw away from me. One thing led to another, and he became a great guide and source of information. Raman took me on a quest to the nearby Gombak forest to learn more about edible and medicinal plants. He knew every plant by heart and was patient enough to teach me about them.
“I am glad to have met many extraordinary people during this book project because without a doubt, the indigenous communities hold the most precious knowledge about our forests.”
Putting brush to paper
The project took Syarifah about a year and a half to complete.
“It was supposed to finish earlier,” she said.
“But when the pandemic occurred, work on the book came to a grinding halt for a few w months. I tried to do research online, but my work is so visual l. So whenever the movement con ntrol order was relaxed, I would make plans to go to OA villages. Once I’d gathered enough infor- mation and findings, I started writing and illustrating over sev ven months.
“I was still going back and forth rth to the villages briefly in between, for verification of names and other information from the people I had interviewed.”
For the book, Syarifah made over 50 illustrations, but not everything made it into the final edit.
“I really wanted to put everything in the book but there was a problem with identifying some of the plants. Although the Orang Asli had names for everything, I had to verify each plant species with my botanist friends who assisted me in this project. And some of these plants were hard to identify, so they had to be left out.
“There were also occasions when I was asked to exclude species from my book, as the Orang Asli guides were wary of irresponsible parties who might want to exploit these crops.”
For the most part, Syarifah made sketches on site, but also took photographs so she could colour her sketches later.
“I would jot down their names as we went through the forest, then later I would sit down and analyse the samples and photos I had taken. Most of the work is watercolour and pen line drawings,” said the self-taught artist.
Along the way, Syarifah also met
indigenous artist Shaq Koyok, and mustered enough courage to ask him if she could visit his village in Pulau Kempas, Banting.
“He was kind enough to take me and a few friends to his hometown and the neighbouring forest reserve, Hutan Simpan Kuala Langat. His family embraced us like their own.”
Ties with the forest
Syarifah said that in the last couple of years she has grown not only as a visual artist, but also as a human being.
“I had to be mindful of my every step. Each of my plant illustrations was pieced together from indigenous knowledge and I was aware that I was now carrying that narrative. It felt like I was holding on to precious gems.
“I also tried to highlight the indigenous names of the plants as much as I could, instead of only focusing on their scientific names. This I did to bring the indigenous culture and language across in the book.”
Syarifah has devoted a chapter each to the four kampungs she visited: three in Selangor – Kampung Batu 12, Kampung Busut Baru and Kampung Pulau Kempas, and one in Negri Sembilan – Kampung Tohor. Each of these kampungs had its own unique environment, each with different lessons for her to learn. A fifth chapter outlines
how the plants she discovered are turned into daily nourishment as well as meals for festive occasions, as outlined by Lisa Koyok (Shaq’s sister).
“I myself had a go at making some of those dishes,” she said. “It was a great experience and I would like to continue cooking with these herbs and plants if I can access them. As for the kampungs that I visited, the ones in Gombak and Banting were the closest to urban areas, so the people there are exposed to commercial agriculture and nine-to-five jobs.
“Even though some of them admit to not eating the traditional way or foraging like they once used to, they shared so much of their ancestral knowledge while we were talking.”
Syarifah is relieved to know that this knowledge is still rooted in them, and that they continue to uphold their heritage and culture with reverence, even when external factors do not permit them to actively practise them.
“They have strong spiritual and physical ties with the forest. I love understanding their relationship with food, which is centred on humility and mindfulness.
“Before industrialisation, their people would rely entirely on nature for what to cook. They had to pay attention to how nature
worked, and follow the rhythms of the forest and the land – what fruiting trees to look out for at certain times of the year, what plants grow best when. As seasons changed, so did the food and vegetation. It was all about adapting to what the land provided and working with what you had.”
Syarifah added that it is common practice among the Orang Asli to only take what you need, and leave the rest in order for them to continue to grow. Sustainability, she said, is inherent in their way of life.
The main idea of creating this book, she shared, was to celebrate nature and bring up the question of food diversity. “What can we consume other than the stuff that we usually see at the grocery stores? What have we been missing out on?” she asked.
“Throughout the last century, we have grown to less appreciate our local sources of food and depend entirely on industrialisation, monoculture and processed food. I hope this book is a way to remind people about the forgotten tastes of the forests, and to cultivate a fresh appetite for the’ produce, as well as an interest for the knowledge that’s been handed down from the Orang Asli, generation after generation.”