While smoking among men seems much more prevalent here than in American, I do not remember having seen an Indonesian woman smoke. Apparently one of the female ETAs was told something along the lines of, "don't smoke in public; people might think you are a prostitute." Maybe it's a good thing that I haven't seen women smoking.
Indonesian men tend to start smoking earlier than Americans. Pak Muslim , a teacher at my school, started smoking in elementary school. Apparently this is normal. Indeed, in addition to making the news for various tectonic events, Indonesia also has its share of smoking-toddler news sensations like Ardi Rizal (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/26/ardi-rizal-smoking-video_n_590404.html). Sad times. Now if only someone would start a rumor that all men who smoke are Johns...
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Toraja 2
A month and a half ago I went to a corpse-moving ceremony in my counterpart's village with Mary Barnes (another ETA) and her parents, who happened to be visiting that day from Makassar (side note: this is the village he currently lives in. This village is associated with his wife's Tongkonan. The pictures from the previous post are from in or near the village he is from originally, Nanggala). The old bunker style grave got too crowded, so the Tongkonan (technically the group of people associated with the Tongkonan associated with the grave) built a new one next to the first. They moved three of the coffins from the old grave into the new one. As might be expected, a corpse moving is sort of like a funeral, just more low-key.
Soon after we got there we saw a buffalo slaughter. While almost every buffalo I have seen killed has needed only one slash of the parang (machete) to the neck, this slaughter did not go so well. It took a lot of tries to get a good cut. This is the first whack. I would be up all night if I uploaded every attempt I caught on camera.
The buffalo was not too happy. We weren't too happy about it either. A lot of the Indonesians were laughing. This probably makes you uncomfortable. This made Mary's parents uncomfortable (I think). Indonesians tend to laugh when they are uncomfortable. Sometimes communication across cultural norms can backfire. Oops.
The four bules:
After the slaughter, Mary and her parents left. I ended up nongkronging (hanging out) with my counterpart and some other Indonesians under a rice barn (the usual place to hang out during ceremonies like this). You'll see a picture of the underside of a rice barn in a second. From the side and front they look like small Tongkonans without the buffalo horns.
After nongkronging for a bit, a few of the Indonesians started moving the coffins.
The inside of the old grave:
During the move, at least one of the corpses had its clothes taken off (the clothes probably had been on top of the bodies rather than actually on the limbs). I did not notice whether new clothes were put on, though I do know that there is some (yearly?) ceremony where the dead are undressed and redressed in new clothes. Here is the pile of clothes tossed behind the two graves:
At least one of the coffins had an inspection panel, allowing me to look in and see the dead person's face. And the cigarette in its mouth. Note: I have not mentioned gender since I'm not quite sure. I remember thinking the person was a woman, but I don't remember how I concluded this. Very few Indonesian women smoke, however, so the mere presence of a cigarette suggests it was probably a man. For more on smoking in Indonesia, see one of my perpetually forthcoming posts.
The new grave from the outside. The clump of people is carrying one of the coffins inside:
The inside of the new grave:
While the coffins were being moved, the butchers were preparing lunch:
My counterpart (Marthen) with some of the meat:
Fun for all ages:
After the meat was ready, it was time to nongkrong again. Here's me under a rice barn, eating rice (the photo interrupted the nongkronging; photo credit to Marthen):
After lunch we prayed for a while. Incidentally, my counterpart led most of the service. Apparently he has some sort of leadership position at the church. I'm not quite sure how he has time for everything. On top of teaching more hours than any other teacher at school and teaching Saturdays at an SMK (technical high school) in Makale, he finds time to be a church leader.
All in all, a good day, and a good experience.
Soon after we got there we saw a buffalo slaughter. While almost every buffalo I have seen killed has needed only one slash of the parang (machete) to the neck, this slaughter did not go so well. It took a lot of tries to get a good cut. This is the first whack. I would be up all night if I uploaded every attempt I caught on camera.
The buffalo was not too happy. We weren't too happy about it either. A lot of the Indonesians were laughing. This probably makes you uncomfortable. This made Mary's parents uncomfortable (I think). Indonesians tend to laugh when they are uncomfortable. Sometimes communication across cultural norms can backfire. Oops.
The four bules:
After the slaughter, Mary and her parents left. I ended up nongkronging (hanging out) with my counterpart and some other Indonesians under a rice barn (the usual place to hang out during ceremonies like this). You'll see a picture of the underside of a rice barn in a second. From the side and front they look like small Tongkonans without the buffalo horns.
After nongkronging for a bit, a few of the Indonesians started moving the coffins.
The inside of the old grave:
During the move, at least one of the corpses had its clothes taken off (the clothes probably had been on top of the bodies rather than actually on the limbs). I did not notice whether new clothes were put on, though I do know that there is some (yearly?) ceremony where the dead are undressed and redressed in new clothes. Here is the pile of clothes tossed behind the two graves:
At least one of the coffins had an inspection panel, allowing me to look in and see the dead person's face. And the cigarette in its mouth. Note: I have not mentioned gender since I'm not quite sure. I remember thinking the person was a woman, but I don't remember how I concluded this. Very few Indonesian women smoke, however, so the mere presence of a cigarette suggests it was probably a man. For more on smoking in Indonesia, see one of my perpetually forthcoming posts.
The new grave from the outside. The clump of people is carrying one of the coffins inside:
The inside of the new grave:
While the coffins were being moved, the butchers were preparing lunch:
My counterpart (Marthen) with some of the meat:
Fun for all ages:
After the meat was ready, it was time to nongkrong again. Here's me under a rice barn, eating rice (the photo interrupted the nongkronging; photo credit to Marthen):
After lunch we prayed for a while. Incidentally, my counterpart led most of the service. Apparently he has some sort of leadership position at the church. I'm not quite sure how he has time for everything. On top of teaching more hours than any other teacher at school and teaching Saturdays at an SMK (technical high school) in Makale, he finds time to be a church leader.
All in all, a good day, and a good experience.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Toraja: a primer
Toraja, the part of Indonesia where I live, is known for its culture. Indeed, rumor has it that Toraja’s culture makes it the second-ranked tourism destination in Indonesia after Bali (according to the government), though a recent visit to Bali confirms that tourist traffic in Bali dwarfs tourist traffic in Toraja by several orders of magnitude. I should note, by the way, I’m not sure how the government came to this conclusion, if indeed they every did come to the conclusion. I’m pretty sure Borobudur (or the Borobudur/Yogyakarta/Solo area) is also more heavily trafficked as well. Why, then, have I not yet mentioned Torajan culture?
I have stayed away from mentioning it for so long because it has taken me so long to appreciate (and because I am really bad at posting with any regularity or frequency. I was actually ready to write this at least two months ago). Now that I am ready, here are my thoughts as well as a decent introduction to Torajan culture and ceremonies.
Torajan society is structured by family lineage (through both parents). At some point (still not clear to me when, but I think any time is ok), members of a family gather together money to establish a Tongkonan, which I will loosely translate as a “family house.” Here is a Tongkonan. Thank you, google image search, for the picture. Somehow I don’t have a good picture of just a Tongkonan.
When a Torajan gets married, he (she) joins his (her) spouse’s Tongkonans, as do all of the couple’s children. Torajans cannot join too many Tongkonans since they have a responsibility to each of their Tongkonanans. Consequently, people only count a few generations back.
Clearly not everyone from a Tongkonan can live in it. Indeed, nowadays, no one lives in most Tongkonanas. The buildings are actually rather small and uncomfortable on the inside. Instead of anyone living in the Tongkonan, one family may live near it in a modern, more comfortable house, while other Tongkonan members live elsewhere. Tongkonan members who live elsewhere still belong to the house, and will return to participate in ritual events related to it.
If no one lives in a Tongkonan, why build it, and why call it a house? In the good old days, many people did live in Tongkonans. Even when people do not live in it, the Tongkonan still plays a vital role for its members. Tongkonans may host meetings for the extended family with which they are associated if that family needs to discuss something important. A Tongkonan is a physical representation of a family that allows the family to show its wealth (through buffalo horns displayed on a post at the front of the Tongkonan. Buffalo are very expensive ($4000 for a normal buffalo, $8000 for a white buffalo, $20000 for a buffalo with really big horns (think 1 meter each)), so the more buffalo you sacrifice at funerals and other ceremonies, the richer you must be. I was at one funeral where over 100 were killed (30 the day I was there) and have heard of a funeral with 120+ buffalo). Tongkonan also play a role in Torajan funeral ceremonies.
When a Torajan dies, he may be buried in the burial grounds (cliffs, caves, bunkers) of any of his Tongkonan. His family chooses the Tongkonan, though presumably he has some input. In the months (years) before the final burial but after death, he will be stored in that Tongkonan. After his burial, his body will be taken care of (redressed, moved if necessary) by that Tongkonan.
So how about those burials? Torajans tend to be buried with clothing, some possessions, and the souls of buffalo. As might be expected, the rich burials led to grave plundering. Consequently, for many generations Torajans have been buried in cliffs and caves and, more recently, in concrete bunkers. So says Lonely Planet, anyway, though I haven’t heard anything about grave robbers. Grave robbers or not, though, at this point I think people get buried in these locations more out of tradition than anything else. Indeed, at this point I think most aspects relating to burial practices in Toraja are traditions that remain from religious or other practices from before when Toraja became majority Christian. Torajans bury their dead in cliffs, bunkers and caves since that’s just where you bury your dead.
Anyway, funeral ceremonies last anywhere from a few days to more than a week. Throughout the length of the funeral ceremony, family and friends visit, offer condolences, watch and bet on buffalo fighting, bring assorted animals for sacrifice, watch pig, deer, horse, cow and buffalo sacrifice, eat lots of food, and pray (most Torajans are Lutheran). It’s sort of like a shiva, except with animal fighting and sacrifice and unkosher meat. I’m pretty sure shiva is not a principal social event for most Jews though. Note: If you are really confused, you are probably a Hindu, or at the very least, you are not Jewish. Given the length of the funeral ceremonies, most of the time is spent around talking.
Moving the coffin a few days before the burial:
Here's the first Buffalo I saw killed:
Look! It was grass fed:
Sanitary conditions:
Buffalo fighting:
At first, I was put off from funeral ceremonies because of the animal sacrifice. Perhaps this was because a Torajan I had just met (randomly, in a restaurant) showed me pictures and video of a buffalo sacrifice from a funeral he had recently been to and expected me to be excited. I have to come to appreciate these ceremonies as a time to get together to socialize. Sure, I’d rather socialize in other contexts that don’t involve animal slaughter, but I’ll take what I can get.
I have stayed away from mentioning it for so long because it has taken me so long to appreciate (and because I am really bad at posting with any regularity or frequency. I was actually ready to write this at least two months ago). Now that I am ready, here are my thoughts as well as a decent introduction to Torajan culture and ceremonies.
Torajan society is structured by family lineage (through both parents). At some point (still not clear to me when, but I think any time is ok), members of a family gather together money to establish a Tongkonan, which I will loosely translate as a “family house.” Here is a Tongkonan. Thank you, google image search, for the picture. Somehow I don’t have a good picture of just a Tongkonan.
When a Torajan gets married, he (she) joins his (her) spouse’s Tongkonans, as do all of the couple’s children. Torajans cannot join too many Tongkonans since they have a responsibility to each of their Tongkonanans. Consequently, people only count a few generations back.
Clearly not everyone from a Tongkonan can live in it. Indeed, nowadays, no one lives in most Tongkonanas. The buildings are actually rather small and uncomfortable on the inside. Instead of anyone living in the Tongkonan, one family may live near it in a modern, more comfortable house, while other Tongkonan members live elsewhere. Tongkonan members who live elsewhere still belong to the house, and will return to participate in ritual events related to it.
If no one lives in a Tongkonan, why build it, and why call it a house? In the good old days, many people did live in Tongkonans. Even when people do not live in it, the Tongkonan still plays a vital role for its members. Tongkonans may host meetings for the extended family with which they are associated if that family needs to discuss something important. A Tongkonan is a physical representation of a family that allows the family to show its wealth (through buffalo horns displayed on a post at the front of the Tongkonan. Buffalo are very expensive ($4000 for a normal buffalo, $8000 for a white buffalo, $20000 for a buffalo with really big horns (think 1 meter each)), so the more buffalo you sacrifice at funerals and other ceremonies, the richer you must be. I was at one funeral where over 100 were killed (30 the day I was there) and have heard of a funeral with 120+ buffalo). Tongkonan also play a role in Torajan funeral ceremonies.
When a Torajan dies, he may be buried in the burial grounds (cliffs, caves, bunkers) of any of his Tongkonan. His family chooses the Tongkonan, though presumably he has some input. In the months (years) before the final burial but after death, he will be stored in that Tongkonan. After his burial, his body will be taken care of (redressed, moved if necessary) by that Tongkonan.
So how about those burials? Torajans tend to be buried with clothing, some possessions, and the souls of buffalo. As might be expected, the rich burials led to grave plundering. Consequently, for many generations Torajans have been buried in cliffs and caves and, more recently, in concrete bunkers. So says Lonely Planet, anyway, though I haven’t heard anything about grave robbers. Grave robbers or not, though, at this point I think people get buried in these locations more out of tradition than anything else. Indeed, at this point I think most aspects relating to burial practices in Toraja are traditions that remain from religious or other practices from before when Toraja became majority Christian. Torajans bury their dead in cliffs, bunkers and caves since that’s just where you bury your dead.
Anyway, funeral ceremonies last anywhere from a few days to more than a week. Throughout the length of the funeral ceremony, family and friends visit, offer condolences, watch and bet on buffalo fighting, bring assorted animals for sacrifice, watch pig, deer, horse, cow and buffalo sacrifice, eat lots of food, and pray (most Torajans are Lutheran). It’s sort of like a shiva, except with animal fighting and sacrifice and unkosher meat. I’m pretty sure shiva is not a principal social event for most Jews though. Note: If you are really confused, you are probably a Hindu, or at the very least, you are not Jewish. Given the length of the funeral ceremonies, most of the time is spent around talking.
Moving the coffin a few days before the burial:
Here's the first Buffalo I saw killed:
Look! It was grass fed:
Sanitary conditions:
Buffalo fighting:
At first, I was put off from funeral ceremonies because of the animal sacrifice. Perhaps this was because a Torajan I had just met (randomly, in a restaurant) showed me pictures and video of a buffalo sacrifice from a funeral he had recently been to and expected me to be excited. I have to come to appreciate these ceremonies as a time to get together to socialize. Sure, I’d rather socialize in other contexts that don’t involve animal slaughter, but I’ll take what I can get.
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