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Published: July 15th 2007
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Shortly after writing my last blog I hopped on a bus to Tana Toraja: an area filled with beautiful mountains and a strange culture.
On the bus I met an Oil executive from Jakarta who was returning to his village to attend his friends fathers 50 buffalo funeral and he invited me to come. Funerals in Tana Toraja are the most interesting part of a very interesting culture.
While most Torajans have been contaminated by christianity they still keep their old beliefs about death: that the dead can take animals and possessions into the afterlife and if enough animals aren’t sacrificed at their funerals they can come back to haunt you. When someone dies the family keep the body in the house (often for years) until they have enough money for a huge number of buffalos and pigs. People work their entire lives to be able to afford a huge funeral. The more buffalos the higher status so anyone who had 50 buffalos was a high flying sort of guy.
I agreed to come to Louis village in 2 days time and in the meantime and just after I got off the bus I found a hotel
with a very nice but strange owner. He thought he had struck gold in the back garden and for some reason thought I could provide testing and extraction facilities. When he finally showed me a sample of a yellowy substance with the texture of bread, I told him it probably wasn't gold but stressed that i wasn't an expert. The next day I attended a ridiculously dangerous motorcycle race. There was no safety barrier and when people could hear the racers approach they would run into the centre of the track to get the best view. Then they would disperse just in time for the racers to go straight through the middle. By the time I arrived one driver had already been killed but you couldn’t have guessed as everyone was carrying on as normal.
The morning of the funeral I got a lift to Louis village where I met his dead dad and his “very crazy” sister. Louis dad had been very dead for a year now but Torajans believe that until the funeral the dead person is still alive so they kept the body just by the front room surrounded by cakes, clothes and deodorant. They believed
that he could use these and they talked about him like he was just another person in the room. I failed to understand how and why they believed this but my politeness overpowered my curiosity so I didn’t press the point. After saying goodbye to Dad we started loading up Louis’ buffalo. Louis was a hot shot so was giving two buffalos to that days funeral. This was very generous since a buffalo can sell for 1000 pounds sterling and if it’s a rare Albino buffalo from 2000 to 4000 pounds.
After loading up the buffalos for some reason I was given a false identity, for the day I was a fellow Oil executive working in Jakarta. However I immediately screwed up by telling someone I was a student in London. Saya bodoh!
The first thing you see as you arrive at the funeral are dozens of pigs bound in bamboo ready for slaughter. At the entrance to the funeral is a booth where all donations are recorded. Louis told me that because he is giving two buffalos he can expected to receive three in return when he held his fathers funeral next year so it’s a bit
like an investment. This was my first introduction to the fascinating world of buffalo politics.
We waited by the pigs until we joined the back of a procession which was entering the main part of the funeral. A man was filming everything while another man was compering in a loud voice. Meat was everywhere and we were surrounded by dead pigs and soon to be dead pigs. This funeral was only the first day of receiving guests so unfortunately no buffalos were being sacrificed. The atmosphere was more like a party and the small kids were running around and causing hell. Louis had to leave early so we only stayed for a while but luckily I would attend three more funerals in Toraja.
The night after the first funeral I was on the road returning to my hotel and I heard a huge KERASH!!! about 2 metres to my right. I looked around and saw a JEEP with one side that had caved in and a limp motorcyclist lying on the ground. People suddenly appeared from no where and and came streaming to see what had happened. I assumed the person was dead because of the huge damage
to the JEEP but I didn't hang around to find out.
My second funeral was attended with Agus a local English teacher on holiday. This was an hours motorbike from where I was staying but the scenery was stunning so the journey was fantastic. When we arrived he introduced me to his friend Jerry a local student. Jerry was a very interesting guy and he told me that a hundred years ago before the Christians came humans were also sacrificed at funerals. Very important people would have servants sacrificed to help them in the afterlife. This funeral was more jovial than the first and we all got tipsy on palm wine called Tuak. It was here that I first saw a pig sacrificed. They kill the pig by stabbing him just behind the neck. For a horrible few seconds it squeals but soon it loses too much blood to fight. You feel sorry for the pig but everyone else is laughing so its hard to get bummed out.
I attended two funerals and a wedding with Agus and he became my friend and chauffeur. One night I bought a large piece of meat and some palm wine and
Jerry cooked us up a feast. All his friends came round and Jerry played the guitar and violin and while everyone else sung Torajan songs.
For my last 4 days in Tana Toraja I stayed in a homestay on the top of a hill with amazing view over mountains and rice fields. I spent most of my time reading and writing but one day my hosts invited me to a funeral in the next village. When we arrived we were taken to the equivalent of a VIP box which allowed us to look over all the action. I finally got to see a buffalo sacrifice but it was less grand than I expected. The buffalo is tied to a post in the centre of the courtyard and a man approaches with a ceremonial knife and with one flick of the wrist cuts the buffalos throat. The killing is over quickly unlike the Pig and the buffalo doesn't make much noise at all.
Watching a live buffalo transform into a few piles of flesh, blood, organs, muscles and bones in 90 minutes is amazing. The fact that they used to sacrifice humans like this makes it even more interesting.
It makes you realize that inside you is just a pile of organs which could be removed by anyone a sharp knife and a spare afternoon.
I spent just under two weeks in Toraja but I could have spent 2 years there. The people, scenery, architecture and ceremonies are all wonderful but there are so many places in Indonseia I was yet to see I boarded the 8 hours bus to the capital of Sulawesi, Makassar to get on a ferry to Java.
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