I am determined to finish reading Elizabeth Gilbert‘s “Eat, Pray, Love” – before I get swept away by the movie and what would surely be a feast of colours, culture and food of Italy, India and Indonesia.

So far, it has been worth it – every 104 pages of it, which is where I am currently and which in her setting, is Italy.

Imagine, hankering for a taste of an Italian dessert that does not even sounds that amazing – but if she is willing to forgo heaven for it, it must be that good. Or wishing that I too could meet divine Italian men who will teach me to say Attraversiamo or learn L’arte D’arrangiarsi.

But in the midst of elegant Italian phrases, cultural quirks (Italian men hung out at bakeries after football games – to eat cream puffs…) and the delightful food, she spoke about something equally captivating – personal and profound.

Depression and Suicide.

That she was severely depressed for years and at one point succumbed to taking antidepressants and sleep aid to stop her suicidal thoughts. She didn’t know what caused her despair, what triggered the endless sobbings, the urge to take her life to end her sufferings.

And if even her – someone so accomplished, so privileged, talented and in many ways, blessed – could fall under depression, it shows that this is not something that happens to only that sort of people.

And if you read the way she tried to rise above her misery, it is also clear that this is not something people could just snap out of it if only they would try harder.

But serious subject aside, it is now on to Naples – where she experienced Italy’s best margherita pizza with double mozzarella —->

The roads of the interior towns of Ranau-Tambunan-Keningau-Kota Kinabalu in the mid-70s were nothing like they are today.

Gravel and filled with potholes, plenty of muddy spots to get stuck at during rainy seasons, chokeful of dusts to inhale during dry periods and riverbed crossing subject to water level – but they are still proper roads.

Nothing like the bridle paths across thick jungles and mountain terrains of my grandfather’s era in the not-so-long-ago 1950s and 60s when they would trekked for a few days for what is now an hour drive.

A scenario not even my fertile imagination could conjure convincingly.

Thus, it helped to read books such as the Borneo – The Stealer Of Hearts written by Oscar Cook, who lived in various parts of Sabah (Keningau, Semporna, Tuaran, Kota Belud, Labuk and etc) from 1911-1919 as a North Borneo Civil Service officer.

Personal, insightful and very amusing, “It is customary for Muruts to show respect to the white man by producing their very best tapai, and pitting the oldest and ugliest women of the village against him in a drinking competition“.

Many interesting narrative of incidents of his dealings and involvement with the locals which on many occasions, he spoke fondly of, “Morality and clean living such as I saw and experienced while in Semporna make me wonder at the audacity of those whose one idea is to Christianise the native“.

When this book was published in 1924, it was the most authoritative book on North Borneo – and despite not having read many books on North Borneo, this is certainly one which deserve a read by anyone keen on the history of our state.

Get a copy of “Borneo – The Stealer of Hearts” from Kadaiku in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah.