AN EXCURSION DOWN THE RIVER--LONG PAHANGEI--THE OMA-SULINGS--THE GREAT
TRIENNIAL FESTIVAL--HOSPITABLE NATIVES--INCIDENTS IN PHOTOGRAPHY
It is significant as to the relations of the tribes that not only Bukats
and Punans, but also the Saputans, are invited to take part in a great
triennial Bahau festival when given at Long Tjehan. Shortly after our
arrival we were advised that this great feast, which here is called tasa
and which lasts ten days, was to come off immediately at an Oma-Suling
kampong, Long Pahangei, further down the river.
Though a journey there might be accomplished in one day, down with the
current, three or four times as long would be required for the return.
However, as another chance to see such a festival probably would not
occur, I decided to go, leaving the sergeant, the soldier collector, and
another soldier behind, and two days later we were preparing for departure
in three prahus.
What with making light shelters against sun and rain, in Malay called
atap, usually erected for long journeys, the placing of split bamboo
sticks in the bottom of my prahu, and with the Penihings evidently
unaccustomed to such work, it was eight o'clock before the start was made.
Pani, a small tributary forming the boundary between the Penihings and the
Kayans, was soon left behind and two hours later we passed Long Blu, the
great Kayan kampong. The weather was superb and the current carried us
swiftly along. The great Mahakam River presented several fine, extensive
views, with hills on either side, thick white clouds moving slowly over
the blue sky. As soon as we entered the country of the Oma-Suling it was
pleasant to observe that the humble cottages of the ladangs had finely
carved wooden ornaments standing out from each gable.
We arrived at Long Pahangei (_h_ pronounced as Spanish jota) early in the
afternoon. Gongs were sounding, but very few people were there, and no
visitors at all, although this was the first day of the feast. This is a
large kampong lying at the mouth of a tributary of the same name, and is
the residence of a native district kapala. After I had searched everywhere
for a quiet spot he showed me a location in a clump of jungle along the
river bank which, when cleared, made a suitable place for my tent. Our
Penihings were all eager to help, some clearing the jungle, others
bringing up the goods as well as cutting poles and bamboo sticks.
Evidently they enjoyed the work, pitching into it with much gusto and
interest. The result was a nice though limited camping place on a narrow
ridge, and I gave each man one stick of tobacco as extra payment.
During our stay here much rain fell in steady downpours lasting a night or
half a day. As the same condition existed higher up the river, at times
the water rose menacingly near my tent, and for one night I had to move
away. But rain in these tropics is never merciless, it seems to me. Back
from the coast there is seldom any wind, and in the knowledge that at any
time the clouds may give place to brilliant sunshine, it is not at all
depressing. Of course it is better to avoid getting wet through, but when
this occurs little concern is felt, because one's clothing dries so
quickly.
The Oma-Sulings are pleasant to deal with, being bashful and unspoiled.
The usual repulsive skin diseases are seldom seen, and the women are
attractive. There appears to have been, and still is, much intercourse
between the Oma-Sulings and their equally pleasant neighbours to the east,
the Long-Glats. Many of the latter came to the feast and there is much
intermarrying among the nobles of the two tribes. Lidju, my assistant and
friend here, was a noble of the Long-Glats with the title of raja and
married a sister of the great chief of the Oma-Sulings. She was the
principal of the numerous female blians of the kampong, slender of figure,
active both in her profession and in domestic affairs, and always very
courteous. They had no children. Although he did not speak Malay very
well, still, owing to his earnestness of purpose, Lidju was of
considerable assistance to me.
The kampong consists of several long houses of the usual Dayak style,
lying in a row and following the river course, but here they were
separated into two groups with a brook winding its way to the river
between them. Very large drums, nearly four metres long, hung on the wall
of the galleries, six in one house, with the head somewhat higher than the
other end. This instrument, slightly conical in shape, is formed from a
log of fine-grained wood, light in colour, with a cover made from wild ox
hide. An especially constructed iron tool driven by blows from a small
club is used to hollow out the log, and the drum is usually completed in a
single night, many men taking turns. In one part of the house lying
furthest west lived Dayaks called Oma-Palo, who were reported to have been
in this tribe a hundred years. They occupied "eight doors," while further
on, in quarters comprising "five doors," dwelt Oma-Tepe, more recent
arrivals; and both clans have married Oma-Suling women.
The purpose of the great feast that filled everybody's thoughts is to
obtain many children, a plentiful harvest, good health, many pigs, and
much fruit. A prominent Dayak said to me: "If we did not have this feast
there would not be many children; the paddi would not ripen well, or would
fail; wild beasts would eat the fowls, and there would be no bananas or
other fruits." The first four days are chiefly taken up with preparations,
the festival occurring on the fifth and sixth days. A place of worship
adjoining the front of the easternmost house was being constructed, with a
floor high above ground on a level with the gallery, with which it was
connected by a couple of planks for a bridge. Although flimsily built, the
structure was abundantly strong to support the combined weight of the
eight female blians who at times performed therein. The hut, which was
profusely decorated with long, hanging wood shavings, is called dangei and
is an important adjunct of the feast, to which the same name is sometimes
given. Ordinary people are not allowed to enter, though they may ascend
the ladder, giving access to the gallery, in close proximity to the
sanctuary.
Prior to the fifth day a progressive scale is observed in regard to food
regulations, and after the sixth, when the festive high mark is reached,
there is a corresponding decrease to normal. Only a little boiled rice is
eaten the first day, but on the second, third, and fourth, rations are
gradually increased by limited additions of toasted rice. The fifth and
sixth days give occasion for indulgence in much rice and pork, the
quantity being reduced on the seventh, when the remaining pork is
finished. On the eighth and ninth days the regulations permit only boiled
and toasted rice. Not much food remains on the tenth, when the menu
reverts to boiled rice exclusively. Some kinds of fish may be eaten during
the ten-day period, while others are prohibited.
It was interesting to observe what an important part the female blians or
priest-doctors played at the festival. They were much in evidence and
managed the ceremonies. The men of the profession kept in the background
and hardly one was seen. During the feast they abstain from bathing for
eight days, do not eat the meat of wild babi, nor salt; and continence is
the rule. Every day of the festival, morning, afternoon, and evening, a
service is performed for imparting health and strength, called melah, of
which the children appear to be the chief beneficiaries. Mothers bring
babes in cradles on their backs, as well as their larger children. The
blian, who must be female, seizing the mother's right hand with her left,
repeatedly passes the blade of a big knife up her arm. The child in the
cradle also stretches out its right arm to receive treatment, while other
children and women place their right hands on the hand and arm of the
first woman, five to ten individuals thus simultaneously receiving the
passes which the blian dispenses from left to right. She accompanies the
ceremony with murmured expressions suggesting removal from the body of all
that is evil, with exhortations to improvement, etc.
This service concluded, a man standing in the background holding a shield
with the inside uppermost, advances to the side of the mother and places
it horizontally under the cradle, where it is rapidly moved forward and
backward. Some of the men also presented themselves for treatment after
the manner above described, and although the melah performance is usually
reserved for this great feast, it may be employed by the blian for nightly
service in curing disease.
This was followed by a dance of the blians present, nine or ten in number,
to the accompaniment of four gongs and one drum. They moved in single
file, most of them making two steps and a slight turn to left, two steps
and a slight turn to right, while others moved straight on. In this way
they described a drawn-out circle, approaching an ellipse, sixteen times.
After the dancing those who took part in the ceremonies ate toasted rice.
Each day of the feast in the afternoon food was given to antoh by blians
and girl pupils. Boiled rice, a small quantity of salt, some dried fish,
and boiled fowl were wrapped in pieces of banana leaves, and two such
small parcels were offered on each occasion.
Meantime the festive preparations continued. Many loads of bamboo were
brought in, because much rice and much pork was to be cooked in these
handy utensils provided by nature. Visitors were slowly but steadily
arriving. On the fourth day came the principal man, the Raja Besar (great
chief), who resides a little further up the river, accompanied by his
family. The son of a Long-Glat father and an Oma-Suling mother, Ledjuli
claimed to be raja not only of these tribes, but also of the Kayans. Next
morning Raja Besar and his stately wife, of Oma-Suling nobility,
accompanied by the kapala of the kampong and others, paid me a visit,
presenting me with a long sugarcane, a somewhat rare product in these
parts and considered a great delicacy, one large papaya, white onions, and
bananas. In return I gave one cake of chocolate, two French tins of meat,
one tin of boiled ham, and tobacco.
Domestic pigs, of which the kampong possessed over a hundred, at last
began to come in from the outlying ladangs. One by one they were carried
alive on the backs of men. The feet having first been tied together, the
animal was enclosed in a coarse network of rattan or fibre. For the
smaller specimens tiny, close-fitting bamboo boxes had been made, pointed
at one end to accommodate the snout. The live bundles were deposited on
the galleries, and on the fifth day they were lying in rows and heaps,
sixty-six in number, awaiting their ultimate destiny. The festival was now
about to begin in earnest and an air of expectancy was evident in the
faces of the natives. After the performance of the melah and the dance of
the blians, and these were a daily feature of the great occasion, a dance
hitherto in vogue at night was danced in the afternoon. In this the
people, in single file, moved very slowly with rhythmic steps, describing
a circle around three blians, including the principal one, who sat smoking
in the centre, with some bamboo baskets near by. Next morning the circular
dance was repeated, with the difference that the participants were holding
on to a rope.
About four o'clock in the afternoon the Dayaks began to kill the pigs by
cutting the artery of the neck. The animals, which were in surprisingly
good condition, made little outcry. The livers were examined, and if found
to be of bad omen were thrown away, but the pig itself is eaten in such
cases, though a full-grown fowl or a tiny chicken only a few days old must
be sacrificed in addition. The carcasses were freed from hair by fire in
the usual way and afterward cleaned with the knife. The skin is eaten with
the meat, which at night was cooked in bamboo. Outside, in front of the
houses, rice cooking had been going on all day. In one row there were
perhaps fifty bamboos, each stuffed with envelopes of banana leaves
containing rice, the parcels being some thirty centimetres long and three
wide.
During the night there was a grand banquet in all the houses. Lidju, my
assistant, did not forget, on this day of plenty, to send my party
generous gifts of fresh pork. To me he presented a fine small ham. As salt
had been left behind we had to boil the meat à la Dayak in bamboo with
very little water, which compensates for the absence of seasoning. A
couple of men brought us two bamboos containing that gelatinous delicacy
into which rice is transformed when cooked in this way. And, as if this
were not enough, early next morning a procession arrived carrying food on
two shields, the inside being turned upward. On these were parcels wrapped
in banana leaves containing boiled rice, to which were tied large pieces
of cooked pork. The first man to appear stepped up to a banana growing
near, broke off a leaf which he put on the ground in front of me, and
placed on it two bundles. The men were unable to speak Malay and
immediately went away without making even a suggestion that they expected
remuneration, as did the two who had given us rice. I had never seen them
before.
The sixth day was one of general rejoicing. Food was exchanged between the
two groups of houses and people were in a very joyful mood, eating pork,
running about, and playing tricks on each other. Both men and women
carried charcoal mixed with the fat of pork, with which they tried to
smear the face and upper body of all whom they met. All were privileged to
engage in this sport but the women were especially active, pursuing the
men, who tried to avoid them, some taking refuge behind my tent. The women
followed one man through the enclosure surrounding the tent, at my
invitation, but they did not succeed in catching him. This practical
joking was continued on the following days except the last.
The Oma-Palo had their own festival, which lasted only one day. It began
in the afternoon of the sixth day and I went over to see it. The livers of
the pigs were not in favourable condition, which caused much delay in the
proceedings, and it was nearly five o'clock when they finally began to
make a primitive dángei hut, all the material for which had been gathered.
A few slim upright poles with human faces carved at the upper ends were
placed so as to form the outline of a quadrangle. On the ground between
them planks were laid, and on the two long sides of this space were raised
bamboo stalks with leaves on, which leaned together and formed an airy
cover. It was profusely adorned with wood shavings hung by the ends in
long spirals, the whole arrangement forming a much simpler house of
worship than the one described above. The kapala having sacrificed a tiny
chicken, a man performed a war dance on the planks in superb fashion, and
after that two female blians danced. Next morning I returned and asked
permission to photograph the dancing. The kapala replied that if a
photograph were made while they were working--that is to say,
dancing--they would have to do all their work over again, otherwise some
misfortune would come upon them, such as the falling of one of the bamboo
stalks, which might kill somebody. Later, while they were eating, for
example, there would be no objection to the accomplishment of my desire.
With the eighth day an increased degree of ceremonials became noticeable,
and in order to keep pace therewith I was driven to continuous activity.
On a muggy, warm morning I began work by photographing the Raja Besar, who
had given me permission to take himself and his family. When I arrived at
the house where he was staying he quickly made his preparations to "look
pleasant," removing the large rings he wore in the extended lobes of his
ears and substituting a set of smaller ones, eight for each ear. He was
also very particular in putting on correct apparel, whether to appear in
warrior costume or as a private gentleman of the highest caste. His sword
and the rest of his outfit, as might be expected, were of magnificent
finish, the best of which Dayak handicraft is capable. He made altogether
a splendid subject for the camera, but his family proved less
satisfactory. I had to wait an hour and a half before his womenfolk were
ready, femininity apparently being alike in this regard in all races. When
they finally emerged from the house in great array (which showed Malay
influence) they were a distinct disappointment.
The raja, who was extremely obliging, ordered the principal men of the
kampong to appear in complete war outfit, and showed us how an imaginary
attack of Iban head-hunters would be met. They came streaming one after
another down the ladder, made the evolutions of a running attack in close
formation, holding their large shields in front of them, then ran to the
water and paddled away, standing in their prahus, to meet the supposed
enemy in the utan on the other side of the river.
At noon the female blians were preparing for an important ceremony in the
dángei hut, with a dance round it on the ground later, and I therefore
went up to the gallery. The eight performers held each other by the hands
in a circle so large that it filled the hut. Constantly waving their arms
backward and forward they moved round and round. Some relics from Apo
Kayan were then brought in: a small, shining gong without a knob and a
very large bracelet which looked as if it had been made of bamboo and was
about eight centimetres in diameter. One of the blians placed the bracelet
round her folded hands and then ran round the circle as well as through
it; I believe this was repeated sixteen times. When she had finished
running they all walked in single file over into the gallery in order to
perform the inevitable mélah.
Shortly afterward followed a unique performance of throwing rice, small
bundles of which, wrapped in banana leaves, were lying in readiness on the
floor. Some of the men caught them with such violence that the rice was
spilled all about, and then they flipped the banana leaves at those who
stood near. Some of the women had crawled up under the roof in
anticipation of what was coming. After a few minutes passed thus, the
eight blians seated themselves in the dángei hut and prepared food for
antoh in the way described above, but on this occasion one of them pounded
paddi with two short bamboo sticks, singing all the while.
A very amusing entertainment then began, consisting of wrestling by the
young men, who were encouraged by the blians to take it up and entered the
game with much enthusiasm, one or two pairs constantly dancing round and
round until one became the victor. The participants of their own accord
had divested themselves of their holiday chavats and put on small ones for
wrestling. With the left hand the antagonist takes hold of the descending
portion of the chavat in the back, while with the right he grasps the
encircling chavat in front. They wrestled with much earnestness but no
anger. When the game was continued the following morning the young men
presented a sorry spectacle. Rain had fallen during the night, and the
vanquished generally landed heavily on their backs in the mud-holes, the
wrestlers joining in the general laugh at their expense. To encourage them
I had promised every victor twenty cents, which added much to the
interest.
Having concluded their task of feeding the antohs the blians climbed down
the ladder and began a march in single file round the dángei hut, each
carrying one of the implements of daily life: a spear, a small parang, an
axe, an empty rattan bag in which the bamboos are enclosed when the woman
fetches water, or in which vegetables, etc., are conveyed, and another bag
of the same material suitable for transporting babi. Four of the women
carried the small knife which is woman's special instrument, though also
employed by the men. When the eight blians on this, the eighth day, had
marched sixteen times around the dángei they ascended the ladder again.
Shortly afterward a man standing on the gallery pushed over the flimsy
place of worship--a signal that the end of the feast had come. On the
previous day a few visitors had departed and others left daily.
The feast had brought together from other parts about 200 Oma-Sulings and
Long-Glats. The women of both tribes showed strikingly fine manners,
especially those belonging to the higher class, which was well
represented. Some were expensively dressed, though in genuine barbaric
fashion as indicated by the ornaments sewn upon their skirts, which
consisted of hundreds of florins and ringits. It should be conceded,
however, that with the innate artistic sense of the Dayaks, the coins, all
scrupulously clean, had been employed to best advantage in pretty designs,
and the damsels were strong enough to carry the extra burden.
The climax had been passed and little more was going on, the ninth day
being given over to the amusement of daubing each other with black paste.
On the tenth day they all went away to a small river in the neighbourhood,
where they took their meals, cooking paddi in bamboo, also fish in the
same manner. This proceeding is called násam, and the pemáli (tabu) is now
all over. During the days immediately following the people may go to the
ladang, but are obliged to sleep in the kampong, and they must not
undertake long journeys. When the feast ended the blians placed four eggs
in the clefts of four upright bamboo sticks as sacrifice to antoh. Such
eggs are gathered from hens that are sitting, and those which have become
stale in unoccupied nests are also used. If there are not enough such
eggs, fresh ones are taken.