Dancing barefoot in the rain, deep in a rainforest in Borneo, that’s the kind of moment the Rainforest World Music Festival in Sarawak, Malaysia creates. It’s the sort of memory that lingers, long after the music fades.
Getting There
The journey from Delhi to Sarawak was long, but surprisingly smooth, a flight to Kuala Lumpur, then a short hop to Kuching, the relaxed and quirky capital of Sarawak. For those unfamiliar, Kuching can be a pleasant surprise (they’re obsessed with cats, the city’s name literally means ‘cat’ in Malay), and it moves at its own gentle rhythm, far from the chaos. But the real reason for being there lies about 40 minutes outside the city, somewhere between the trees, the mud, the music, and something hard to explain, but easy to feel.
Music in the Middle of Nature
The Rainforest World Music Festival isn’t a typical music festival. There are no flashy LED screens or big-name sponsors. It’s held at the Sarawak Cultural Village, right at the base of Mount Santubong and surrounded by rainforest. The setup is open-air — wooden longhouses, forest paths, and music floating through the trees.
You hear all kinds of sounds: African drums, the Bornean sape, violins, bamboo flutes, and many instruments that might be unfamiliar. Artists from around the world come not just to perform, but to connect. They jam, share stories, teach, and play together in a way that feels real and unscripted. It doesn’t feel like a staged show, more like a shared moment.
Workshops, Rain Showers & Barefoot Dancing
During the day, workshops invite people to try instruments, join in casual jams, or just sit under the trees and take it all in. As night falls and it starts to pour — the energy shifts, the lights come on, people find open spaces to dance, food stalls serve satay and Sarawak laksa, and there’s an easy sense of joy in the air.
Why it stays with you
The Rainforest World Music Festival is hard to describe because it’s not just something to watch. It’s something to be part of. It slows you down in a good way. It opens you up. People return with muddy shoes, a sunburn, and songs they can’t name still playing in their heads. But more than that, they return a little lighter. Like something inside shifted, even if they can’t quite explain how. And most of them? They’d go back in a heartbeat.
