hiking and ceremonies

seeing much of the local area by motor bike and only having day visits to certain areas, i began to want something that lasted a bit longer. i came across some good information about where i could hike. after shopping for some emergency supplies to last 5 days i left the shop with 1 bottle of water and a packet of the cheapest biscuits, which later turned out to have a split down the under side of the packaging so turned soft and absorbed the jungles damp humidity.

trying to find a bus or bemo to my chosen village 15 km away was hard and being sent in the wrong direction every time i asked i decided to take the route in stages, asking to get dropped at road junctions to where i could find more direct forms of transport. half a day later i had reached the penultimate village, and i was happy to walk the last 2 km which the locals couldn't understand- why wouldnt i want a tourist priced motorbike taxi!!

on arrive a few heads began to turn and i felt like i was being watched, i wondered around the 20 odd houses that formed the village and asked one man where the restaurant was, knowing full well there was no restaurant, hoping he'd abide by the traditional culture type way of giving and sharing, fortunately for me he did and quickly laughed at the fact i thought there would be place to eat and invited me in to his house and gave me a generously portioned meal. the rain had started and i didnt fancy walking any more so put in to practice the 'is there a hotel in the village' question and with a similar response he'd offered to accommodate me. the evening was spent with his family in a small wooden shack, swapping basic stories but the food they kept offering was great.

the following day a discussioned about my compact sized sleeping bag interested them over breakfast, but it wasnt long before i got my next set of directions to the next village. this time it was a 5 or 6 hours walking through the jungle, along a small trail, which i was promised would come at some place!! discovering a few little houses along the way and traversing rotten log bridges i stumbled across a tongkanan build, 4 men were hard at work building a traditional house and were pleased at my interest and rest stop as i watched them.

with little wildlife to see the jungle seemed to go on and on, breaking in parts giving amazing views over the neighboring valleys. afternoon saw me arrive in a small religious town where an annual volley ball tournament was taking place, some local kids told me about it and took me there, as i walked up to ringside i didnt know if the people were more interested in the me or the match. i attracted the attention of one volley ball coach and he began to tell me the efforts they go to, to organize the tournament, and how the best they can do is a scrubby church green as a court. i was invited to stay the night with him and the volley ball team who were all camping in a giant make shift tent- the only problem was with their bright gas lamp and no mosquito nets...

the following day and some harder hiking up and over valleys and through coffee plantations i had to make a few 50-50 decision into which way to go, luckily each time was right and my next village was reached. staying 2 nights with what seemed a quite wealthy family i had a few shocks. in front of his house were 12 traditional building- alot for any family and each one was being renovated, i asked why and he replied by telling me if was a for a future funeral ceremony. his mother had died 3 months before and this development was in aid of her funeral. after this he quickly asked if i wanted to see her! a normal response might have been no but i heard my self say ok..

we walked into the house and upstairs through to a side bedroom, a silence had come over us both and i didnt know what to expect, he pulled back the curtain door and ushered me to enter. on the bed was an open coffin with his mother inside, i didnt know what to do but curiosity enticed me to peer over and it was like he wanted me to have a closer look and said 'please please' and stepped the other side of the coffin. he explained she had be preserved with some injection and that their tradition was to keep the body in the house until the ceremony, which can be anything up to 2 years away depending purely on funding.

that night was spent sleeping on the floor with his family,all in the same room, but in the next room to his mother, it seemed a little creepy at first but tiredness soon took effect. his brother took me to another ceremony the next next, a funeral that was actually taking place, a short bike ride along a bumpy track we arrived along with a possible 200 guests. the service took the form of lavish meals and mass animal sacrifice- pigs were killed either by a slow knife down the throat to the heart or a slower stab and twist through the ribs. it didnt matter which way the boys found enjoyment from it, the buffalos were left to the men and a planned slash of the throat brought them down. with too much meat to be cooked and eaten every member was given a food parcel to take home- some with a leg other with a liver, no matter what they were given an instant squabble and need for swapping body parts took place.

on my return back to the main town, where i was to meet some friends i found the cheapest way to get back was to hitch hike and the first vehicle to stop was a cattle truck, loaded up and going to the market it was quick and efficient- maybe even more so than the local buses. my friends arrived and a few days later we had news of another funeral celebration. a convoy of motorbikes rocked up to a village in the middle of nowhere and having not ate or drunk for half a day, the 3 hour bike trip took its toll and the lightheadedness i encountered was made worse by the slaughter of 2 bloody buffalos and the gutting and cutting of flesh made me faint. some how i fainted in a squatting position rather than face first- if i had fallen front first it would have been a messy splash in a pool of blood, however my fall would have been cushioned by the soft fleshy cuts of meat.


my recovery around the back was made slower by the dieing squealing pigs the boys were play stabbing, but as i did return the 3 buffalo was up next and the strongest of the lot. 4 cuts to the neck angered the animal and some how he broke free on the 4th slash, circling the mini arena lined with people, he bucked and semi charged, falling and squirting blood over people, he made a dash for the only exit back to the field, i happened to be in his path and with nowhere to go i ran and tried to climb some of the seating structures, but after a few passes his efforts failed and he fell to the ground. learning from their mistakes the men later slaughtered them at a safer distance where no one could get hurt.

the high light for many of then was the buffalo fighting towards the end of the day, the men would stick chili powder up the bulls arses to anger them in hope of a better fight.

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