Part Three: West and Central Sumba

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.