2/11
Was
on the ferry more than 12 hours, we had to wait for the tide to rise
before any of the trucks could leave (angle too steep). Met truck
driver dudes who I saw later on the road from Waikelo to Waikabubak.
Killer climb through forest on the easiest gear. Once at the top of
the hill it was awesome. Got two hands of bananas, talked to a
curious crowd which kept growing. Lot of little hills in the high
lands. Stopped and met hella kids with a fellow who worked at a bank
next door to his house. His wife sells little cakes. The kids were
shyly trying bahasa Inggeris. Not too far from there to Waikabubak
where I found my friend’s shop and hung with his family and slept
there on a brand new couch.
2/12
Not
enough sleep to catch up, because it was time to open the store.
Biked straight South to the beach at Wanokaka, down a steeeeep hill.
On the way back met a cool man and a friendly English teacher before
going back up the hill, walking. Then turned West to head towards
Lamboya, the place for the Pasola festival. Wow, that road was
beautiful. Saw many traditional houses, collected more “hello
mister”s. Met four siblings on the road who were telling me I
should go back to Waikabubak to sleep. No way, it was already the
afternoon, and I was already here in Lamboya. Then Lance and Herman
came along on horses. Lance told me to sleep at his place, his father
is the kepala desa. Their house was just down the hill from the field
where Pasola would take place. Ok! Mandi in the river with the
horses. So stoked to be here, a very kind family. I received a family
name from Bp Titus, Reko Deta, and learned that in Lamboya the
first-born child gets the mother’s last name, and subsequent
children get the father’s last name. Lance will be a participant in
Pasola. I will stay until Pasola and check out gong music after that
(gong music is not allowed the month leading up to Pasola, and until
its over). Beautiful here in desa Welibo.
{{{at
this point I started slacking on writing in my journal, but I kept
notes about where I was, so I’ll remember what I can}}}
2/13
-14
Went
to two different beaches and did some bodysurfing and shell
scavenging. Lance has family living at Karaway beach. A kid wanted to
rent me a surfboard but the waves were close-out-y and close to
shore, so was happy to just body surf. A group of kids gathered and
watched me, then after I was done they all ran and played in the
water. The next day I rode my bike to pantai Morosi, another
beautiful and basically deserted beach. Met a guy collecting shells
at low tide. Many cowries, coral, dll.
2/15
Pasola
The
day before watched a ritual chicken sacrifice with pinang, coconut,
under a tree to ensure good crops. The chicken was quickly eaten
after being roasted over an open fire maybe less than 1 minute after
being killed. I just had rice. The night before Pasola Bp Titus and
family assembled baskets full of ketupat – cases to hold rice as
its cooked and a way to serve it too. They are made from young
coconut palm leaves. I tried helping, and eventually got the hang of
it. So cool to make a slick and functional finished product from just
one leaf!
Everyone
in Sumba was excited to talk about Pasola. It takes place in three
locations, Lamboya, Kodi, and Wanokaka. I caught the part in Lamboya.
It’s a homecoming of sorts, when many family members living away or
in different parts of Sumba return to West Sumba. The hullabaloo is
what is interesting to me, as I’m not a fan of “sports” which
use animals as unwilling participants. The dress is awesome. An ikat
wrapped around the waist with a long strand hanging down in front, a
beaded belt on top of that, a parang (long knife) with wooden sheath
tucked in on the left side, and head scarf wrapped with a pointy top,
everything really brightly colored, neon orange being a favorite. The
setting was a huge open grassy field on the top of a hill in view of
the ocean, thousands of people were in the audience surrounding the
field, people were walking around selling drinks and thisnthat. At
the end, it got scary, as horse riders started throwing sticks into
the audience and much of the crowd started to disperse. Sister Arlini
pulled me away, and we returned home. I guess blood starts boiling at
the end. It lasts from 10am til 1pm. It was SO HOT there… no shade,
brutal sun.
After
Pasola, the whole extended family and Lance’s younger brother’s
(Renol) friends all came over and hung out at the house. Tried sirih
pinang for the first time, thought it was gross and difficult.
2/16
The
day after Pasola, biked westward, hella hilly. Bought a head scarf
from a lady making ikat textile on her porch. Went to the beach with
all these kids from the kampung right on the beach, swimming in
undies. Drank coconut water. That night would be the highly
anticipated gong performance. I brought 100,000 Rp plus 4 packs of
cigarettes, .25 kg coffee, and 1 kg sugar as a thankyou. Walked up to
the kampung in the dark with Bp T. Crossed the river four times on
the way (oh, that’s why he told me to wear shorts). Nobody up there
has electricity and there is no road, just a path. Wow, so many stars
in the sky! We can hear the gongs as we approach and of course hella
frogs and some dogs. We climb the ladder up to the porch of this
rumah adat. I meet Bp T’s uncle – a Marapu (Sumba belief system
before western influence) elder. I’m offered sirih pinang but
decline. I take tea and fumble to set up my simple recording rig in
the dark. All the children gather around me to look and giggle. I was
stressing about their noise being picked up by the recorder, but
didn’t want to be rude and ask them to move. After all I’m the
outsider here. The musicians play for around two hours! One old man,
and two or thee young boys. Instruments: 1 hand drum, 7 or 8 gongs
played in groups of 3, 3, and 1 or 2. I think they played a mix of
the party repertoire and songs for funerals. It was funny to be the
only audience member with 20 kids looking at me and whispering to
eachother. I ran out of space a few times on the recorder, dang! (had
the wrong memory card with me. D’oh!) So I erased a few recordings
I had made of lengthy gamelan rehearsals. All the oldsters were
chilling outside on the porch chewing pinang talking. The room was
mysterious, lit by two little lamps. I could only see the gong
musicians and little else, there were women and children in the dark
back there. Finally it was time to go. I was lost in the rhythms and
feeling blissful on the walk home until all these dogs were barking
ferociously and continuously and following us, but were afraid of the
flashlight. Made it back safe. Stars were out, the moon was bright.
2/17
Biked
back to Waikabubak. Stayed in Mama Lydia’s (Mama Dorkas’
sister’s) big family compound. Heard gong music in the street,
marching along. They tried to get me to play the lead drum but I
didn’t know what the heck was going on with the slanting rhythm.
Uncle explained about the two styles of gong music – funeral and
otherwise (dance, building rumah adat, dll). Uncle took me on a ride
around Waikabubak and surrounding areas, then to his brother’s
house who’s wife is pintar bahasa inggris. Later, sister Arlini’s
English speaking friend came over and was translator between me and
the fam. She explained they were so worried I would not like the food
or the bed, but it was all cool with me.
2/18
Rode
to Anakalang, kinda rainy. Sister Arlini and friend cari sama antar
saya ke rumah pendetta Pier “Fin” and Yopi’s place. Met Ingko
and his father, and a group of people playing gong, and then gogah (a
stringed instrument made from a single piece of bamboo – the
strings are from the bamboo too) after returning from a days work in
the rice paddies.
2/19
Went
to Protestant church with Fin, Yopi, Ingko and a big community of
friendly people. Toured Ingkos kampung later. Ate corn dish with
lemony basily leaf (daun kumungi). Super good! Ate sirih pinang too,
smoked a corn husk cig, drank water straight from the mountain, saw
many megalithic tombs. Later Fin made bubur daun singkong another
traditional Sumba dish, enak! Then recorded gong music at a funeral
that I was lucky enough to be here for (which I know sounds weird,
but that’s where gong music is played, also in Sumba funerals are
more celebratory than ones I have attended in USA).
2/20
to Lewa
Stopped
by Mr. David’s house on the way out of town. Mr David and his
bothers were the gong musicians playing at the funeral last night.
Crazy old tomb sculptures in his back yard. On the way to Lewa
through beautiful forest full of bird calls on the highest part of
Sumba. There are seven endemic species in Sumba. I can’t remember
where I heard this but- some Dutch guy would come to Sumba just to
hear the bird calls. Made it to the church where Fin knew the pastor
and I could hopefully stay there, but she was out of town. A teacher
Mr Obed told me he would be happy to host me at his home. Hung around
at the church school, took a mandi, took pictures with many kids and
staff. Later the kids played gong, sweet! Ate a meal with the staff
after school. Then hung with Obed’s family that night.
