some fact and personal account of my 6 days journey in sumba island

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Some fact and personal account of my 6 days journey in Sumba island Introduction Fascinated by the living megalith/stone culture, animal sacrificial rite, intricate gold jewelry, ikat textile, hidden lagoon, and surf beaches, Sumba had been on my travel wish list for more than 3 years until late last month that I and my “partner in crime” had a chance to finally visit during 31 July to 5 August 2015. Sumba is an island located in the eastern part of Indonesia, a region called Nusa Tenggara Timur (NTT) – east of Bali/Lombok, south of Flores, west of Timor and north of Australia. Sumba is said to be one of the poorest and driest region of Indonesia. Economically, that may be true, but culturally, I beg to differ. Contrary to conventional guidebooks, our trip started from west and finished in the east of Sumba. We used Waikabubak, capital of west Sumba, as a base for 3 days to explore traditional villages and beaches in the region, and continued to the east for another 3 days in Waingapu, capital of east Sumba, to see more of traditional villages, stone tombs, and the making of ikat – traditional textile, used in marriage and funeral ceremonies. Traditional villages Traditional villages in Sumba were built on the hill tops in order to protect themselves from enemy and to be closer to heaven. Story was told that the first generation of Sumbans descended from the sky on a ladder made from water buffalo horns to a village in the north of the island, and also that when people died, their spirits would ascend to the sky via the same passage. The belief in getting closer to the sky also reflects in Sumba architecture.

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Sumba Indonesia

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Some fact and personal account of my 6 days journey in Sumba islandIntroductionFascinated by the living megalith/stone culture, animal sacrificial rite, intricate gold jewelry, ikat textile, hidden lagoon, and surf beaches, Sumba had been on my travel wish list for more than 3 years until late last month that I and my partner in crime had a chance to finally visit during 31 July to 5 August 2015. Sumba is an island located in the eastern part of Indonesia, a region called Nusa Tenggara Timur (NTT) east of Bali/Lombok, south of Flores, west of Timor and north of Australia. Sumba is said to be one of the poorest and driest region of Indonesia. Economically, that may be true, but culturally, I beg to differ. Contrary to conventional guidebooks, our trip started from west and finished in the east of Sumba. We used Waikabubak, capital of west Sumba, as a base for 3 days to explore traditional villages and beaches in the region, and continued to the east for another 3 days in Waingapu, capital of east Sumba, to see more of traditional villages, stone tombs, and the making of ikat traditional textile, used in marriage and funeral ceremonies. Traditional villagesTraditional villages in Sumba were built on the hill tops in order to protect themselves from enemy and to be closer to heaven. Story was told that the first generation of Sumbans descended from the sky on a ladder made from water buffalo horns to a village in the north of the island, and also that when people died, their spirits would ascend to the sky via the same passage. The belief in getting closer to the sky also reflects in Sumba architecture. Traditional houses in Sumba have high point and tapered roof (somewhat like Mexican hat) made of thatch. House loft is where people keep their spiritual things and heirlooms, as this part of the house deems closer to heaven and spiritual world, whereas the main part or middle part of the house is served as living quarter for members of family and the lowest part is for their animals, e.g. horses, pigs, and dogs. Megalithic culture Megalithic culture may be something in the past in most parts of the world, but here all over Sumba it is a living tradition existing in a form of limestone tombs aboveground burial chamber built of large stone slabs in various shapes and beautiful carvings which can be seen in most traditional villages. Houses in traditional village are built in two rows in parallel with a thoroughfare in the middle which functions as a stone burial ground and a place to perform ritual sacrifice. However, with globlisation penetrating in every corner of the world, and Sumba is no exception, nowadays some of the houses choose for an easier way to build tombs from concrete and colourful ceramic tiles instead of traditional limestone. Gold jewelryGold heirloom objects in Sumba are used as a medium through which the Merapu priest or village shaman communicates with the dead ancestors. They are considered as an immortal form of wealth and carefully stored in a house loft. They are used in important ceremonies, such as marriage and funeral. The best known of gold objects in Sumba is Mamuli which I used to give an illustration sometime ago on my page here https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152282548986809&set=a.10150347387531809.341913.601151808&type=1&theater Hidden lagoonOn the west coast of Sumba lies a hidden lagoon, called Danua Wee Kuri. To get there from Waikabubak, we passed several traditional villages and countless burial grounds through dirt roads. It took us almost 2 hours to arrive. Distance wise, its not far but we had to negotiate bends and curves of poor conditioned single-track roads at slow speed. Danau Wee Kuri is hidden from the road, there is no sign indicating its location. But once we arrived there, its worth the time and effort. The lagoon is surrounded by rocks and thick bushes and connected to the Indian Ocean by underground channels. We could see the sea water seeping through holes and cracks from rocks that separate the ocean from the lagoon. The water in the lagoon is crystal clear and has turquoise green colour. Very picturesque!

Spiritual belief of MarapuKapambu, like most other traditional villages, is a village on a mountain top which can only be reached on foot since the trail up there is very steep and full of loose rocks. Our driver had to park his car at the foot of the mountain. Upon our arrival at Kapambu, my excitement was running high cos its the first village that we visited. I must admit that I studied quite a bit about Sumba and its local etiquettes beforehand, but I wasnt aware that here people are still very strict about their belief, custom and tradition until I made a mistake. The situation is that when I was looking around thoroughfare and stone tombs of the village, I came across a wooden pole, about 1.5 meter tall, with some sign of erosion and patina caused by weather. With my curiosity, I extended my hand to touch that pole to check if it was just a bare piece of wood or it had also been carved with motif. All of the sudden, the whole villagers who stood around me went wild, cried out in their panic voice and said something inaudible in their local language. I sensed that something was wrong, so I backed off from that pole. Our driver quickly came to me and told me that its Marapu a spiritual force of gods and dead ancestors. That pole represented Marapu of the village. After his brief explanation, we were asked to proceed to a house belonging to the head of the village rumah adat. The head of the village and his family gathered on a balcony and explained to us further about their belief and tradition.

At the time, the situation looked quite tense I felt that when I had eye contacts with other senior village men, whereas women, young and old, looked at us with a little sympathy some even giggled. I apologised to the head of village for my ignorance and inappropriate behavior, and offered him and other village men a packet of cigarettes, which I prepared specially for this kind of situation thanks to my pre-departure research. Here and some other parts of Indonesia, offering betel nuts or cigarettes to elderlies especially head of village is considered as a sign of respect or a peace offer and unity. After the long explanation and the all of the cigarettes were taken, we were a bit relieved and were then asked to sign a guest book (buku tamu) and to give donation as an extra offering to the village. Now, it seemed that I was forgiven and we were released from the house. Still embarrassed, puzzled and a little panic from what happened, we walked around the village a for bit with super extra care not to touch or step on to anything until we felt theres nothing more to see, so we left the village descending to the car for other destinations.Ritual sacrificeAnother interesting village that we visited was Sodan its the highest ascend in Sumba above a beautiful river valley and rice field. We went by car off trails cutting across shallow river until we reached the point where the car couldnt go any further. Then we walked up to Sodan village for half an hour or so. Upon registering ourselves with the head of the village, we were escorted by a few senior village men to the highest point there a ritual sacrifice were taking place. We were so fortunate to witness this. Its a kind of a funeral which villagers were collaborating in replacing an old tomb stone lid with a new piece. The rite is called tarik batu or pulling stone in English, dated back 4,500 yrs ago. There, village men were labouring by using primitive tools in moving and lifting stones. Wood, bamboo poles and robes were used to perform this task saved exclusively for village men, whereas women were preparing for food and feast after the job would be done. Water buffalos, pigs and chickens were killed as part of this sacrificial rite. In their belief and custom, blood from either animal or human spilling on the ground is a sign of fertility in future cultivation and harvest. The more blood, the better! In the ceremony, villagers were chanting, together with beats of drums and gongs; at the same time, we could hear background noises from water buffalo and pigs getting butchered. Marapu played an important part of this ritual sacrifice it has animistic, spiritual and dynamic elements. When the task was half done, where the old stone lid was removed and the tomb was opened, the head of village invited women who were relatives to the dead to come up to give their offering. This comprised mainly ikat woven fabric which is considered as valuable belonging of people of high status, together with other valuables. These objects were put inside the tomb before it was closed again. After the new stone lid was placed in a perfect position over the tomb, the rest of women were allowed to come up to the site to serve hot tea and cigarettes to the men at work, including us. We took an hour and a half to observe the whole process. Thereafter, all the villagers went down one level from the stone grave to the villages thoroughfare for the feast, and of course, we were invited to join them. We felt most welcome at this village, everybody seemed friendly, some invited us inside their houses for a chit chat and served us their traditional snack, betel nuts and lime. Senior villagers even encouraged me to take the video of the ceremony and allowed me to step on some stone tombs, which otherwise I would be forbidden, in order to get the best view of the ceremony.As for the feast, we werent certain if we should participate cos we were so overwhelmed from the background noise of the animals getting slaughtered earlier and now witnessing the bloody scene of the cutting and processing fresh meats. Besides, we didnt have much time since we promised our driver that we would be back to his car asap after were done. Further, the rain was fast approaching in our direction. Walking down the steep slope in wet condition would be an ugly mess. So, we politely excused ourselves from joining them. The senior villagers who invited us looked rather disappointed. After a few minutes of talks / negotiation, they seemed to understand us and let us go, or probably they would know that no matter how much they tried to persuade us, we wouldnt stay for the meal anyway. Just when we were about to start descending to the car, a young village man rushed to us and in his hand a huge chunk of meat, supposedly from the water buffalo killed earlier he brought for us to take home as a gift from the village. We were hesitant and discussed among ourselves for a while about how we should respond. We came to the conclusion that it would be much worse if we were polite enough for now to accept that piece of meat and threw away later even without their presence. So we thanked the young man several times for the meat, but politely told him that we couldnt take it with our lame excuse that we had no kitchen in fact, we didnt know how or what to do with the meat.Surely, we were highly appreciative of the villagers kind gesture and generosity, especially for embracing us to be part of their very important ritual. At the same time, we felt bad for not being able to accept the present, and hoped in a little corner of our mind that somehow they didnt feel offended or insulted by our response. At least there was a little comfort for us on our way downwards, one of the senior village men, who escorted us to the ritual site, walked along with us to the entrance of the village where we came in to make sure that we found our way back safely to the car, and there he bid us a farewell.

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