Ramayana Ballet

When we were in Jogjakarta back in July, we had the pleasure of (again) attending a performance of the Ramayana Ballet. It was held in the grounds of the 9th Century Hindu temple at Prambanan, 17km east of Jogja along the road to Solo.

With the towering temples in the background, it was a wonderful, and wonderfully appropriate, venue for the performance of this mythic saga. Here are a few highlights.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_005

The Ramayana is, in every sense, an epic. The ‘ballet’ – which perhaps more of an opera, with equal proportions of music, dance and theatre – just includes some of the best-loved and key scenes of the massive story.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_009

There’s pageantry, strong characters, gamelan orchestra music, martial arts and acrobatics, romance and drama. No wonder that this Hindu epic remains the most popular and well-known folk story in Muslim Java.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_266

We are introduced to the main protagonists: Rama, prince of Ayodhya, unfairly forced to live in exile in the forest.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_028

Sita, his devoted wife, and herself a princess. She joins him in exile.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_082

Rama’s faithful younger brother, Laksmana, who also follows Rama into the forest. The two of them are (of course) brave warriors, and rather handy shots with a bow and arrow.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_013

And of course there are is a variety of nasty adversaries for the heroes to battle, ranging all the way along the scale of evil and strength. Chief amongst the foes is the demon Rawana, King of Langka. You only need to look at him to know that he’s a nasty piece of work. And when he speaks, he roars, growls and bellows.

He falls for Sita, and sets out to win her by fair means or foul. No, actually only by foul means.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_046

Rawana sends a beautiful and uncanny golden deer into the forest to entice Sita. She is enchanted by it, and she sends Rama and Laksmana off to try to catch it for her. They leave her in safety, protected inside a magical protective circle. Rawana tries to capture her, but he can’t get inside the circle.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_047

Sneaky trickster that he is, Rawana returns disguised as an elderly mendicant. Kind-hearted Sita takes pity on him, and leaves the protection of the circle – and is of course immediately captured and spirited away to Langka by Rawana.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_106

Rama enlists the help of the monkey army, led by the white monkey Hanuman. He’s brave and clever strategist, and ultimately his assistance proves to be decisive…

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_070

En route to his kingdom of Langka, Rawana encounters, battles and defeats the bird-man Sampati. Before he dies, he reveals to Rama (or was it Hanuman?) that Sita has been spirited away to Langka. And so the scene is set for confrontation and battle.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_124

Down in Langka, the women of the royal court perform an elegant dance for the newly arrived Sita.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_134

With Sita now a prisoner in Langka, Rawana tries all his best tactics to win her affection. Being a violent ugly brutish boorish nasty-tempered thug, he fails. (And in any case, she is already happily married to Rama, the seventh incarnation of the god Vishnu!)

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_191

Hanuman comes in disguise to the court of Langka, and reveals himself to Sita, proving his identity by showing her Rama’s ring. She pleads to Hanuman for Rama to come and rescue her.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_087

Hanuman’s monkey army loosens up in preparation for battle. They build a floating bridge so that Rama and the monkey army can get across to the island of Langka.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_168

Never give flaming torches to monkeys. It’s sure to end in disaster.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_183

Hanuman returns to the court of Langka, and proceeds to set the place ablaze.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_225

Rama and Laksmana join in the battle, and proceed to defeat Rawana’s generals one by one.

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_243

Rama and Rawana do battle in the inevitable climax. Guess who wins?

Ramayana_Ballet_20150714_279

In victory, Rama is overcome by nasty jealousy, and questions Sita’s chastity while she was in Langka. How he could imagine that she could succumb to Rawana’s advances is beyond me. She agrees to undergo an ordeal by fire to prove herself to the undeserving Rama.

Of course, she comes out of the test unscathed and smelling like roses (though maybe a little smoky). Rama is restored to his rightful position as King of Ayodhya, Good has triumphed over Evil, and order is restored to the universe.

More photos from the Ramayana Ballet can be viewed on my website.

Tiwah Tewang Rangas

The Dayak Tiwah ceremony that we attended back in last November was one of the most astonishing and powerful things that we have experienced in Kalimantan. So when we heard that another, much larger Tiwah Massal was to be held in the nearby Katingan River village of Tewang Rangas, we were determined to get there. Fortunately our dear and very knowledgeable Dayak friend Lelie was able to accompany us, and we were able to stay at the family home of Pak Damelson, who is one of Karen’s workmates at the Museum Balanga in Palangkaraya.

The Tiwah is a secondary funeral, sometimes held many years after death, which aims to help the soul of the deceased on its journey through the afterlife to ‘the Prosperous Village’ i.e. Heaven. ‘Good’ spirits, and the spirits of the ancestors, are invited down to the village to help in this task, and also to help protect the village from other, malign spirits that might be around.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_005

The Tiwah ceremony is a big, complex and expensive affair, and it is increasingly common for a mass Tiwah to be held for a number of the recently (or not-so-recently) deceased. The Tiwah at Tewang Rangas village was large indeed, and was for some 57 people who had died between the years of 1945 and 2013. The government of the local district (the Kabupaten of Katingan) helped to fund the event, which involved ceremonies over a period of about six weeks. We attended for the main days, when the big ceremonies are held, a large number of animal sacrifices are made, and the remains of the deceased are reinterred in specially built wooden crypts (known as sandung, or pambak).

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_032

In the central square of the village, a number of kayu ulin (Ironwood) posts are erected, each with a carved and painted representation of one of the departed. A large circle of people move in a slow anti-clockwise dance around these sapundu, raising their arms and inviting the spirits, with every sideways step, to descend.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_067

In the Dayak Ngaju Kaharingan religion, there are no priests as such, but the ceremonial proceedings are led and presided over by one of more basir – specialists in the complex and precise details of correct ritual procedure. The basir must have the gift of being able to communicate directly with the spirit world, and be adept in the ancient Sangiang language, which is the language of the Kaharingan spirit world, and is used for recitation of lengthy prayers.

At Tewang Rangas there were no less than seven basir (known locally along the Katingan River as ‘pisur’’). Chief amongst these was Babak (above), who comes from the nearby village of Tewang Rangkang, and was in fact the basir at the Tiwah we attended there. He was very busy throughout the Tiwah.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_410

Three bukung characters were also busy throughout the days we were there. The role of these masked and costumed figures is to protect the village and participants in the ceremonies from any ‘malevolent’ spirits who might try to attend. They wander around more or less continuously clacking together poles of split bamboo, to scare them off. They also manage to terrorise small children around the village. Apparently the identity of the individuals inside the bukung costumes is a secret, and they are not even allowed to return home to sleep at night in case their human identities are revealed.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_050

Over the two main days of the Tiwah, a large number of buffalo, cattle, pigs and chickens were sacrificed. The pigs (on the second morning alone there were some 17 slaughtered) are despatched to the afterlife very quickly and relatively humanely, with a single carefully aimed blow of the mandau (the short sword/bush knife universally worn by Dayak men) to the heart. In just a few seconds, it is over.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_141

For the buffalo and cattle, the process is neither quick nor painless. Each beast is tethered to one of the sapundu, via a very strong rope and yoke of rattan cane. Selected family members have the ‘honour’ of taking turns to spear the animal (always on its right side). When the poor creature can no longer stand, it is then quickly finished off with a large knife. This last step is performed by a Muslim villager in proper halal manner, so that the meat can subsequently be shared with the Muslim members of the community. Ever practical and communal.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_104

 

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_061

For the Kaharingan participants, the blood of sacrificed animals is considered to be pure and cleansing. It is collected and used in other offerings and in subsequent rituals. A drop is placed on the chest, neck, chin and forehead of participants. Mothers dip their infants’ feet in blood to give them strength and good fortune for years to come.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_316

On the day before we arrived, the bones of the deceased had been removed from the graves where they had laid since burial. These were cleaned, wrapped in fine cloth and placed into coffins. These were all laid out in state on a large covered platform, where they stayed for two days until all the dances, prayers, sacrifices and offerings had been completed. One or more family members maintained a vigil beside each of them, day and night.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_378

For one important ritual, one of the pisur sits in the doorway of the main ceremonial building, and begins a long prayer in the Sangiang language. At regular intervals he throws rice from a bowl placed in front of him. This invites and encourages the good spirits to come to the Tiwah. He seems oblivious to all around him, and you have to be careful to avoid getting showered with rice as you enter or exit the building.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_459

As darkness comes, the bukung look even more otherworldly. Rice wine (baram) and beer having been freely consumed for some hours, the action on the street can get a bit ‘messy’. Nothing aggressive, in fact everyone was very good-humoured indeed – just a number of intoxicated people…

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_233

Next day, after all the preparations and sacrifices have been completed, rattan mats are spread in a large shaded pavilion, and a huge array of offerings and ceremonial objects are laid out. Babak and another basir conduct the prayers, and each of the offerings is bathed in smoke, touched by the mandau of the basir, and raised up into the air three times.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_374

After the completion of the prayers, there is a long procession of family members carrying the coffins about 500 metres to the location of the newly constructed sandung crypts.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_411

Each of the coffins is lined up outside the appropriate sandung, each covered with a batik cloth. Only the bones of blood relatives can be placed in the family sandung, as it is considered possible that anyone else (including spouses) could later turn out to have actually been evil spirits which had taken human form.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_454

A gong orchestra is playing, there is much more baram  and beer consumed, and there are a range of strong emotions amongst the substantial crowd. There are people looking contemplative, there is hilarity, there is mourning, yahooing and singing. Family photographs are being taken everywhere – as well as photos with the four bules (foreign visitors) who were in the village.

And one by one, each of the coffins is passed through a little doorway into the sandung, and placed in its final resting place, ending a journey which for some of the deceased had taken 70 years since they passed away.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_476

The woman above appeared to be hysterical, and I was told that the spirit of one of the deceased had entered and taken possession of her. After flailing around for a bit, she grabbed both of my hands while I said some inane soothing things to her. She did actually calm down, and proceeded to thank me profusely, before collapsing exhausted. The (blurry) woman on the left of the photo was concerned that the spirit might have transferred to me.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150809_487

The friendliness and hospitality of the people of Tewang Rangas was amazing. We were welcomed and encouraged to witness – or participate in – all of the important parts of the ceremonies. We were invited into people’s homes and given several meals (which, not surprisingly, featured lots of buffalo meat, beef and pork!) They were as curious about us as we about them, and we literally lost count of the number of times we posed for photographs.

Tewang_Rangas_Tiwah_20150808_401

More photos from the Tewang Rangas Tiwah can be viewed on my website.

Dayak wedding ceremony

We’ve been to a fair number of wedding receptions over the past year in Kalimantan. Actually, Karen counts 11 that she has attended – Dayak, Banjar, Javanese (she’s a couple ahead of me…) – and we’ve been invited to even more. Interestingly, in no case have we met the Happy Couple before showing up at their wedding.

In a reversal of usual practice in Australia, the wedding reception is open to almost anyone who has some kind of connection to the wedding families (one wedding we attended had around 2000 guests), but the actual ceremony is usually a relatively private affair, attended only by family and close friends.

So we were delighted when our friend Lelie asked us to accompany her and her mother to the traditional Dayak wedding of two old friends of hers friends in Palangkaraya one recent evening. Lelie went to high school with Mensie (Mensie Martha Lovianie) and Alben (Briptu Alben Olandi Lambung). Although held in the capital city of the province, it was conducted as if it was held in a village, and as if the groom Alben  was coming from another village.

So, first the warriors of the village assemble and greet each other.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_1

While awaiting the groom’s arrival, there’s time to make some wardrobe adjustments. Note the hornbill skulls and feathers in the headdresses.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_016

There’s time also to limber up and practice a few dance moves with an attentive and proud teacher.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_2

Soon everyone is ready. The gong orchestra is playing, and everyone looks down the road for the groom.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_022

Then the groom arrives, flanked by his parents and an entourage of family members. But entry through the gate to the village is blocked (by some magic but flimsy-looking strings with flowers suspended from them) and, more convincingly, by a fierce-looking warrior in full war regalia, armed, poised and ready to fight.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_3

This is the beginning of the Lawang Sakepeng ceremony. A male visitor to the village must prove his worthiness by fighting and defeating a local warrior at the gate. Only then will he be welcomed in – assuming that he is still alive and standing up. Nowadays it is all ritualised; the arrivee can nominate someone to fight on his behalf (presumably a better pugilist), and the fighting is a stylised dance, with no actual contact between the two ‘combatants’.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_032

They circle around on either side of the entrance gate, gradually working in closer to each other, and to the magical strings that separate them. The music from the gong orchestra gets louder and faster, and the onlookers start calling out encouragement and cheering any impressive moves.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_4

Then they engage in the hand-to-hand battle (without actually touching each other!), in the course of which the strings are torn down, the two fighters swap sides and the visitor, now proven to be a good fighter (or at least to have one on his staff as his ‘best man’) is admitted and welcomed to the village.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_5

A dance is performed to welcome and honour the visitor and his family. Having made it through the initial challenge, they are now treated with great courtesy and respect.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_045

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_046

The groom is ushered in through all the wedding guests, to an inner room. He’s looking relieved – but his challenges aren’t over yet. There are  no less than 16 specific requirements that have to met before the wedding can occur. (This being 2015, all the proceedings are monitored on a video camera and screened in the courtyard outside for the guests to view.)

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_057

First up, once settled down inside, the groom’s and bride’s families exchange formal polite greetings and a number of gifts. The groom’s family give gifts of cash, a selendang, a gong, land (on which to build a house), and other things…

Then, down to business. The bride’s father asks: “Well, why have you come here?” And the groom (perhaps a little sheepishly) replies that he’s come to take a bride.

And so begins the process known as Pengantin Bayangan. Attendants come outside a locate an unmarried girl, seemingly at random, from amongst the guests and bring her inside. “Is this the one?” the groom is asked. He replies that no, she’s not the one. She’s not the right height, or the nose is wrong, or some such discrepancy. He apologises to her for embarrassing her in front of so many people, and gives her a gift of money. And the (no doubt relieved) girl is led back outside, and another is brought in for the same examination. This whole process was repeated three times, and caused much hilarity. We wished that we could have understood all of the exchanges going on (in Dayak Ngaju language, not Bahasa Indonesia) at this point.

Meanwhile, dancers helped the groom look for his bride-to-be, and entertained the small gathering of guests outside.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_6

After a few errors, the ‘right’ girl is presented to the groom, who confirms that she is indeed Ms Right, and there are exchanges of vows and much celebration. No-one could tell us what would have happened if he chose the wrong fiancé, or if he rejected the right one – or if she rejected him at this point. They just looked horrified, and said that that simply doesn’t happen! It mustn’t actually have been too difficult for him to make the right selection, as his fiancé was wearing a matching outfit to his.

Both wedding costumes feature the motif of the batang garing (the Tree of Life), a central symbol for the Dayak Ngaju, complete with the four branches, spears and balanga (ceramic jar) at the base. (More about the batang garing at another time…)

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_7

More celebratory dancing, and then the warriors, reassured that they would not be called upon to fight, retired for the evening. (By this time the little warrior had already disrobed and disappeared. It might have been past his bedtime).

The bride is now introduced to all of the members of the groom’s family – a process known as Pakaja Manantu.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_062

The next part of the ceremony was really interesting, and VERY different (and I have no photos…) Both families are active members of the Kristen (Protestant) Church. So, when the traditional ceremonies were over, a minister in conventional church attire presided over prayers, a sermon, and a number of hymns that we all sang from the hymn-sheets that were handed out. We sang Di Hatiku, ya Yesus (“In my heart, O Jesus”), Tiap langkahku (“My every step”), and Keluarga hidup indah (“Family life is beautiful”), amongst others.

The contrast between the two halves of the wedding ceremony was striking. But it was explained to us that the two parts are of equal importance: “The Lawang Sakepang ceremony is to show pride in our budaya and adat [culture and traditional customs]; the second part is our agama [religion]”. It’s a neat way to reconcile the two contrasting halves, but the distinction between adat and agama is not always so easily made – for example in the Tiwah funeral ceremonies. (But much more about that at another time…)

So then it was time for the obligatory series of group photographic portraits, a delicious buffet dinner – and then everyone went home. Sudah makan, pulang.

Palangkaraya_Dayak_wedding_20150805_097

Chicken and veggies

One of the many nice things about working of the Agricultural Project of the Yayasan Usaha Mulia (hereinafter just ‘YUM Agro’) is that I get to meet the project participants, and to spend time making photographs in the seven villages in which YUM works. (More about the project here).

The photographic work is a pleasure for me of course. But it’s also useful for YUM to document and report on their progress, for educational materials and to promote their activities. Lately I’ve been photographing the ‘home garden’ and ‘small animal husbandry’ (chicken) projects.

Marang_Ayam_20150731_146

It’s now musim kemarau (the dry season). The rivers are way down, and in many locations there is simply no water available for irrigation, so many of the vegetable gardens are dormant until the rains arrive in November or December. But some other places have permanent (or semi-permanent) water supply, and so gardening is able to continue.

In Marang village, Ibu Nursiah is able to keep her crops of corn, beans, eggplant, chilli, tomatoes thriving due to water from a nearby bore. Her bigger problem is soil quality, as the soils in this region consist of mostly sand or peat – both infertile. To grow vegetables requires a big effort to build the soil up with compost, worms, bokashi, manure, and other sources of organic material.

Habaring_Hurung_20150813_076

Ibu Yani in Habaring Hurung village, like all 300 of the families that now have gardens established with YUM support and advice, grows eight different kinds of vegetables. The raised beds are enclosed within a mesh fence, to keep chickens and other ‘pests’  out. When I visited she was harvesting spring onions and pare belut (snake gourd). When I commented on how good the fresh spring onions looked, she insisted that I take a bunch home with me. They were as tasty as they looked.

Habaring_Hurung_20150813_088

Ibu Rosali is Ibu Yani’s neighbour in Habaring Hurung. She has just picked some bayam – a green leafy vegetable that is common here. Bayam is usually translated as ‘spinach’, but it’s not closely related (though both are in the Amaranthaceae family). Like (English) spinach, it’s a good source of iron in the diet.

Habaring_Hurung_20150813_107

Ibu Rosali has twin daughters, seen here posing with their friend in front of the family plot of rubber trees. Their friend is wearing a blouse with the almost-ubiquitous Hello Kitty design on it. Cute pink saccharine-sweet things (clothing, bags, thongs, pillows, keyrings, toys, stickers, notebooks, cups and plates,…) are highly prized here, and Hello Kitty’s dumb (literally – she’s mouthless!) visage appears on just about everything. According to Wikipedia, the Hello Kitty industry is currently worth around US$7 billion per year. Go figure! But I digress…

Trans_Kebun_dan_ayam_20150806_065

In Banturung village, Mama Putri’s daughter appears to be looking very excitedly at a freshly picked eggplant, but the truth is that she was watching some other children playing nearby. Indonesian eggplants are usually that long shape, looking somewhat like a purple cucumber.

Trans_Kebun_dan_ayam_20150806_091

Mama Putri’s other children (though at least one might have belonged to a neighbour’s family) followed me around everywhere as I checked out the garden and took photos. Like (almost) all children here, they wanted to be photographed too.

Trans_Kebun_dan_ayam_20150806_036

The home vegetable garden program is well established in this district, and YUM is now encouraging the cultivation of fruit trees to further improve and supplement family diets. Here, Mbak Joko keeps a proud and watchful eye on her newly planted manggis (mangosteen) tree.

Marang_Ayam_20150731_134

Recently the YUM Agro project has moved into the promotion of ‘small animal husbandry’ (free-range chickens and fish farming) in order to boost the dietary protein intake of families in the region. The aim is to increase the number of family meals which contain meat (chicken) from the current average of 12 per month to 30. Ibu Nursiah is already a successful gardener in Marang village, but she now also has her hands full with chickens.

Habaring_Hurung_20150813_007

For the home gardens, experience has shown that they are much more successful when women have responsibility for them. But men are much more likely to be involved in the rearing of chickens. Pak Mispan lives in Habaring Hurung village, which is one of the new villages established a couple of decades ago to house transmigrasi settlers – in this case Javanese people who have moved to the far less crowded (and less fertile) Kalimantan.

Marang_Ayam_20150731_004

Mama Ema is also a successful gardener and small-scale chicken farmer in Marang village. Like many women, she applies a paste of rice flour (and sometimes including ground medicinal root, bark or leaves) to her face to screen her skin from the darkening effect of the sun, and to prevent skin problems like acne. In Java, apparently women only apply it at nighttime for skincare purposes.

Marang_Ayam_20150731_030

It is expected that families will have the production capacity to also sell around five chickens per month. This will provide valuable supplementation to the families’ very modest incomes. Mama Wendi (from Marang village) appears to have already chosen next month’s chickens for sale.

Marang_Ayam_20150731_177

Two years ago Afandi, the boy in the photo above, was 1.5kg and 16cm below the healthy minimums for his age. Since his mother Ibu Nurhayati joined the YUM home garden program, his growth has improved substantially, though he is still under-sized for his age. The family has now joined the YUM ayam kampung (free-range chicken) program, and it is hoped that the extra protein in his diet will further assist his growth.

Marang_Ayam_20150731_222

Bapak Pendi – Marang village

Trans_Kebun_dan_ayam_20150806_105

Ibu Tania from Banturung village has one of those smiles that you can’t resist smiling back at. The chickens – although not actually smiling themselves – certainly appear to be happy in her care.

Isen Mulang parade

No story this time, just some faces from the opening parade of the Isen Mulang Festival, which was held in Palangkaraya 18-24 May. The festival is an annual celebration of Central Kalimantan cultural diversity – but most particularly Dayak culture. Isen Mulang means ‘Never give up’ or ’Never retreat’ in the Dayak Ngaju language. It is the motto of the province of KalTeng (Central Kalimantan).

The festival program is chock-a-block with performances and competitions between the 13 kabupaten (districts) and one city that make up the province. Dragon boats, dance, music, blow-pipe target shooting, cooking, wood-chopping, night-time soccer using flaming coconuts – it’s diverse, a bit like a Royal Easter Show, even including sample bags from each district. The Festival has strong local support, but seems to be little known outside of Central Kalimantan. We attended many (but by no means all) of the events, and saw no more than perhaps a dozen foreign tourists during the entire week.

The Festival was opened by the Governor Agustin Teras Narang, signalling the start of a three hour parade around the Bundaran Besar (the ‘Big Roundabout!) which is the centre of Palangkaraya. And what a unique parade it was!

Isen_Mulang_20150518_159

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_104

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_063

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_071

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_279

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_078

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_086

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_091

Isen_Mulang_20150518_095

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_125

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_139

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_142

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_201

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_144

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_163

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_188

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_207

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_204

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_245

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_281

 

Isen_Mulang_20150518_038

Durian Season

The dry season has begun here, and the smoke has started to thicken from the countless fires across the island of Borneo (especially our part of it…!). Soon it’ll be mask-wearing time again. The smoke is likely to worsen from now until the wet season starts some time around November – though the forecasts for a doozy El Niño event suggest that this year’s rains may be delayed into 2016. Everyone looks forward to the arrival of the rain.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_007

And the wet season is also keenly anticipated because it is … Durian Season! This fabulous odorous fruit is available here from December through to February. Regarded here as raja buah (the ‘king of fruits’), the segments of this 1-3kg fruit segments have custard-like flesh around the seeds (which are also edible). It’s delicious, and quite unlike any other fruit that we’ve tasted.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_038

It also smells a bit – well, a lot actually – even before the fruit is opened, and we often see signs at hotels and public transportation advising that possession of durian is prohibited. We like the smell (in moderation), though some people consider it repulsive. Having spent a couple of hours travelling a car with the back section stacked up with fresh durian fruit, we can confirm that the scent can be a little overpowering.

There is an Indonesian saying: Durian jatuh, sarong naik (“The durian falls and the sarong rises”), referring to the supposed aphrodisiacal qualities of the fruit, but we can’t directly confirm this to be true.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_023
There are a number of different species of durian, at least nine of which are edible, and a large number of cultivars. They are all members of the Durio genus. The trees grow large, up to 25-50 metres depending on the species. They all have thick hard skins (to survive falling from the trees when ripe), which are adorned with hard sharp spikes. In fact the word duri means ‘spike’ or ‘thorn’ in Indonesian (and Malay).

Durian from the Katingan River region to the north of Kasongan, about an hour to the west of where we live, are prized for their flavour, and are priced accordingly.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_062

The village of Tewang Rangkang, which we have now visited several times with our friend Lelie, is right in the heart of the Katingan durian-growing region. There are numbers of the big trees in plots on the outskirts of the village, each plot belonging to a local family. In each one there is a simple wood-and-tin shack/shelter (pondok). Throughout the fruit season, family members take turns to sleep overnight in the pondoks, to guard against thieves making off with the valuable fruit.

The pondoks may be simple constructions, but they always have a strong roof. A heavy durian falling from 40 meters onto your head could be fatal… (even worse than a coconut!)

Tewan_Rangkang_20141025_0015

Durian trees flower in September – October, and the fruit are collected as they fall from the trees around three months later. The flowers of most Durian species are pollinated by bats.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_170

The ripe fruit fall to the ground with a bit of a whoosh and then a big thump when they land, making it easy to locate each new incoming Durian missile. While we were visiting, everyone made a game of racing to be first to get to the newly descended fruit.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_031

With Lelie and her sister Susi we dropped in to visit at a neighbouring pondok. Ibu was preparing a meal of forest mushrooms, which she kindly shared with us. In her batik blouse, bathtowel cummerbund and leopard-skin tights, she displays a fashion sensibility of refreshing individuality. The mushrooms were delicious.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_055

Attached to the outside of the pondok was a web with perhaps the biggest spider I have seen. I didn’t get close enough to measure it, but I estimate it to have been easily 20cm across. Those long spidery legs looked strong enough to pick up durian…

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_072

Back at Lelie’s family pondok, a barbecue was under way. Fish caught in the Katingan River (some fresh, some dried and salted), local free range chicken (ayam kampung), and rice and veggies from the family’s ladang gardens. I think that the only purchased ingredient was salt.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_083

Tante (Lelie’s aunt) likes a good joke and a bit of teasing, and so she made an elaborate show of not wanting to share the barbecued food with anyone. Fortunately she wasn’t serious…

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_095

And so we tucked in. The sambal was mostly garlic, tiny onions and chili, crushed on the flat hardwood mortar (cobek) in the picture above. Karen enquired about the wooden cobek, which had been made by Uncle Itiu. He slipped away after lunch and came back with a gift for Karen – a ‘spare’ cobek that he had at home…

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_115

After lunch, Lelie, Karen and Enjel found a shady spot to relax – but it was NOT under a Durian tree.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_152

And Enjel borrowed her mum’s fan to keep cool – or to play with.

As the day went on, the stockpile of Durian fruit grew larger and larger. And that’s how we came to be travelling in a car loaded up with fuming Durian when we returned home that evening.

Tewang_Rangkang_Durian_20150215_013

Mahakam Lakes

Here’s a followup to the previous post about the Mahakam River in East Kalimantan, but this time focussing on just one part – the wonderful Mahakam Lakes.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0701

The Mahakam Lakes region is a complex of wetlands including some 32 lakes, three of which (Jempang, Semayang and Melintang) are large – each more than 100 sq km in size. All up the wetlands cover over 8,000 sq km, but much of this only gets inundated during the wet season. There are nine major villages and a population of around 15,000 people – Kutai, Dayak Benuaq, Banjar (who have moved up from Nagara in South Kalimantan), and other communities. The landscape looks and feels a lot like the Lake Sentarum region in West Kalimantan, (which we visited in April).

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0616

We were there late in the wet season, when the water levels are still high, so most of the villages can only be accessed by longboat. On the smooth waters with a small outboard motor whirring away behind you, it’s an extremely pleasant way to travel, and there are always interesting sights along the way.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0802

In most of the villages, like Jantur pictured above, the houses and roads are built entirely on wooden platforms standing on wooden stilts.

20150430_Sungai_Mahakam_1161

In Muara Muntai (above), the arrival of a motorbike is preceded by a clattering sound as the tyres rattle the boards underneath.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0787

Life ‘on the boards’ goes on as it would on any Indonesian streets. People promenade, carry loads to and fro, sit and watch the world go by, and kids ride their bikes and fly their kites. We thought we had time to walk the length of Jantur village, but it is longer than we at first realised, and we made very slow progress as we had to stop, exchange pleasantries and explain ourselves to everyone that we encountered along the way.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0310

One problem with living amongst all that lovely timber is that fires are common, and often devastating in impact. (We have seen this before at Flamboyan in our ‘home town’ of Palangkaraya). The fire in the village of Tanjung Isuy (above) happened a month before our arrival, and destroyed many of the buildings and jetties fronting the lake. They somehow managed to contain it before the whole village was burnt.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0936

Nowadays, living in longhouses (rumah panjang, betang in Central Kalimantan or lamin in East Kalimantan) is uncommon – though we saw many longhouses, including new ones, in West Kalimantan. This one above is fairly new, so it is built more for convenience than for protection. The older style of rumah betang are elevated four or five metres up, with retractable access steps, so that the occupants are safe from predatory animals and raids from enemy tribes.
Inside there is (as always) a long open communal area, and doorways into the private quarters of each of the families. This one is about a ’12 door’ longhouse – meaning that 12 families share the building.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0939

The floor on the inside of this longhouse consists of strips of split bamboo. Like all Indonesian houses, you leave your shoes or sandals outside, and it was quite painful to walk around inside with our tender western feet. Thankfully there are mats here and there…

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0916

Pak Jayo and his wife Bu Panis live in dusun Panaat Bura, on the outskirts of Tanjung Isuy. Their home is surrounded by dozens (maybe hundreds) of wooden figures that he has carved. There are gardens containing (amongst many other herbs, fruit and vegetables) the Doyo plant, whose fibrous leaves are used to make the ulap doyo cloth which is unique to the Dayak Benuaq people of this area.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0919

They warmly welcomed us and showed us around the house and garden. They make a range of handcraft goods for sale to visitors, though their Visitors Book showed the most recent guests were more than a month previously. I bought a bikini ha necklace strung with boar’s teeth and a kind of wood that will make me invisible to my enemies. You never know when that might come in handy.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_1013

In Tanjung Isuy we arranged (i.e. paid for) a traditional dance performance one night. It was a mostly disappointing and perfunctory performance, because many of the dancers had been called to a special service at the local church, and those who did show up were perhaps not the most skilled of dancers. One dance was however very interesting. It told the story of a young girl who became very ill after being visited by malign spirits (above). Her mother despaired and moaned, and a ritual healer (a balian or perhaps a basir) was summoned to exorcise the spirits that had put the bad spell on her. Happily, his chanting and dancing worked like a charm (which in fact it was), and there was a short and joyous finale.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0517

The new (2013) longhouse at Mancong village is an impressive two-storey affair, and it functions as a cultural centre rather than as a residential building. It sports a large number of carved wooden patung belongtang out front. These are normally built as the place to tether buffalo and cattle to be sacrificed during the tiwah funeral ceremonies – but these ones were more likely built solely for ornamentation. Either way they were impressive. Note that all of the figures are standing on stylised ceramic jars – these are the balanga after which the Palangkaraya Museum (where Karen is working) is named.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0510

A traditional dance performance was under way inside the longhouse, and these children were waiting outside for their turn to perform. Nice cultural juxtaposition: the girl was texting friends on her handphone while she waited.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0405

Not surprisingly, the wetlands are home to an abundance of wildlife. Lots of fish, and fishing is the main livelihood of people in the villages. There were macaque monkeys in the trees, and water monitors in the river. We saw (but DIDN’T manage to photograph), the widespread but endangered Irrawaddy Dolphin (Orcaella brevirostris [L], Pesut [I]). But the most visible wildlife are the thousands of birds. Terns, herons, egrets, eagles, babblers, bulbuls, flycatchers, swifts and swiftlets, kingfishers, drongos…

The bird above is a Blue-throated Bee-eater (Merops viridis [L], Kirik-kirik Biru [I]). Yes, it eats bees (and other flying stinging things), catching them in flight and carefully squeezing out the venom before eating. For some reason it (reportedly) ignores insects which are not in flight.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0439

Stork-billed Kingfisher (Pelargopsis capensis [L], Pekaka emas [I]) This bird is listed as ‘uncommon but widespread’ (being found from India to Indonesia). It lives in forested areas near tropical rivers and lakes, and so its biggest threat is habitat loss.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0362

A pair of Lesser Adjutants (Leptoptilos javanicus [L], Bangau Tontong [I]) in Peregik village. These are big storks, more than a metre tall, and called adjutants because of their ‘military gait’ and habit of standing at attention for long periods. They are found in isolated communities from India to Indonesia, and a wild population does exist on the Mahakam.

These two, and a number of others that we saw along the river in the same village, are captive birds. We were told that they are kept to scare other birds away from the fish that are laid out to dry in the sun, but we were also told that they are kept just as pets, so we’re not sure of the truth…

20150430_Sungai_Mahakam_1067

Purple Heron (Ardea purpurea manilensis [L], Cangak Merah [I]) in Melintang village. Like the Lesser Adjutants of Peregik village, this is a captive bird, though wild populations do also exist in the area.

20150430_Sungai_Mahakam_1179

Another captive, this time a Brahminy Kite (Haliastur indus [L], Elang Bondol [I]) seen in Muara Muntai village. He looks healthy enough – but surely she (or he) can’t be happy to be restrained like that?

Bird trivia: the Brahminy Kite is the mascot of Jakarta city, and is regarded as sacred (and a manifestation of Singalang burung no less) by the Dayak Iban of West Kalimantan and Sarawak.

20150503_Sungai_Mahakam_0256

Finally, and almost inevitably, we were invited to a wedding reception (we think that makes eight now). This one was in Muara Muntai village. The bride, groom, and close family members were all resplendent in their shiny green and gold outfits. There was a very polished band playing well-known Indonesian pop songs, and lots of dancing. One interesting thing was that, apart from the groom’s one dance pictured above, none of the male guests danced. There were however two guys dressed in red and gold who came with the band, and they did dance performances throughout the reception, sort of like male go-go dancers.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0568

 

20150430_Sungai_Mahakam_1113

Mahakam River

The Mahakam River runs for just under 1000km from the Muller Mountains in the ‘Heart of Borneo’ southeast to the provincial capital of East Kalimantan (Samarinda) and the coastal delta, eventually discharging into the Makassar Strait.

20150506_Sungai_Mahakam_0052

It’s very wide and muddy in its lower reaches, and narrow, almost fresh and punctuated by rapids nearer the headwaters. The Mahakam Lakes, an extensive region of shallow freshwater lakes, some only existing during the wet season, sit near the middle.

Map-Mahakam-journey

On the map it may not appear that we got far in those ten days. But it’s not an area that can (or should) be rushed – and the logistics of getting around can be complicated. Six hours on local buses to get from Balikpapan to Kota Bangun, three days on motor-powered longboats to explore the Mahakam Lakes, then 41 hours on a local passenger/freight boat to reach Long Bagun, around 14 hours on three speedboats to get up the rapids to Tiong Ohong and back again, and a final all-night car trip (with eight of us in the car) to get back to Balikpapan. But we enjoyed the challenge of organising it all as we went along, and it all came together rather nicely.

20150504_Sungai_Mahakam_0200

Our longest single stretch of travel was on a ‘kapal biasa’, the main passenger and freight vessels on the river. We spent 41 hours on board, delayed when the spotlight at the front of the boat stopped working, which meant that we could no longer travel at night for fear of colliding with the many large logs floating in the river. We slept on a platform upstairs, where there are spaces for 76 passengers, though thankfully it wasn’t full. Downstairs is crammed with cargo goods being delivered to the many villages along the way, and also with those passengers who couldn’t afford the $25 fare to travel in ‘luxury’ up top.

20150504_Sungai_Mahakam_0179

We really enjoyed the journey, spending much of our time sitting on a little platform up front from where we could watch the river, villages, forest and other vessels pass by. The river meanders continuously, the boat moved slowly with many stops, and the steady hum of the engines made for relaxing and contemplative travel.

However the facilities were somewhat basic. The shared ‘bathrooms’ have less floor area than a phone booth, with a big hole in the timber floor which doubles as the toilet and as the means of bathing. The latter is achieved by repeatedly lowering a small bucket-on-a-rope down into the river below to fetch pails of coffee-coloured fast moving water below with which to wash.

20150501_Sungai_Mahakam_0750

As always there were many people keen to wave to us as we passed, none more exuberantly than this guy who looked resplendent in his typical Kutai-style hat, cigarette in gloved hand. He was one of a team working at a timber mill which was mounted on a floating platform in the river.

20150430_Sungai_Mahakam_1250

There are plantations (mostly rubber and oil palm) and gardens, but for most of the journey the banks were a wall of forest. Almost none of it is ‘primary’ (undisturbed) forest, with all of the accessible and high-value trees having been removed long ago.

20150504_Sungai_Mahakam_0173

It’s still beautiful, with big trees standing defiantly amongst the smaller trees, vines and regrowth. Bands of monkeys (mainly long-tailed macaques) lurk on the branches.

20150507_Sungai_Mahakam_0038

But logging (along with coal mining) is still the major industry up-river. The trees are usually felled some distance from the river, and brought by truck down rough forestry tracks to the river. There is no road to the mills in Samarinda, hundreds of kilometres downstream, so the logs are transported down the river.

20150504_Sungai_Mahakam_0210

Once in the river, big rafts of timber are constructed by tying logs together with rattan and rope. These rafts can be a hundred metres or more from end to end, and it takes several days to journey to the mills. One or two little boats are used to pull and guide them, and a small team of men ensure that the raft stays tied together. These guys have great balance – falling between two logs could be nasty – and they seem to spend nearly as much time in the river as on it.

20150430_Sungai_Mahakam_1213

Coal barge heading downstream.

20150505_Sungai_Mahakam_0121

Riverside cliffs downstream from Long Bagun.

20150505_Sungai_Mahakam_0143

We stayed in Long Bagun village, where the kapal biasa terminates before the rapids upstream. As always, we met lots of interesting and friendly people. Traditional tattoos are still common, and the guy on the left above sported some of the finest dayak motifs we have seen. He seemed a little fearsome at first, until we read the tattoo across his chest which says (in English, a language he doesn’t speak!) “Love my Family”. The bloke in the middle was putting the finishing carving touches to a pair of wooden statues to adorn the front entrance of his home. (He also keeps a angry little pet monkey on a chain, which launched itself at Karen when she got close.) We met the couple on the right as they began their wedding ceremonies by visiting the homes of all of their family members in the village.

20150505_Sungai_Mahakam_0149

Angry little pet monkey.

20150507_Sungai_Mahakam_0003

The last village we stayed in was Tiong Ohong. The six hour speedboat journey there from Long Bagun was sensational, negotiating several rapids, through deep gorges and deep forest. The rapids were pretty exciting, particularly after we were told about the boat that capsized a few months previously with the loss of three lives. We were quite happy to put on the bulky lifejackets offered to us.

20150506_Sungai_Mahakam_0079

Tiong Ohong is actually two villages, (Tiong Ohong and Tiong Bu’u) facing each other across the river, with a suspension bridge connecting them. You cling to the side rail when motorbikes cross over.
The village is also the base for the seven day ‘Trans-Kalimantan Trek’, a very tough wet trudge through jungle and over the Muller Mountains to the Kapuas River in West Kalimantan. Mud, leeches, spiky vines and dozens of river crossings. People who have done the trek express ‘grim satisfaction’ on completion, and we are yet to find reports of anyone actually enjoying it.

But we stayed on the river, returning from Tiong Ohong to Balikpapan over the following two days, and we enjoyed every minute of it.

20150502_Sungai_Mahakam_0334