For the first time in a while we have internet and the time to write things up so this might be a long post!
We left Fatumnasi and were headed to a nearby market so we took Mattheus' wife with us. The market was on the main road through the town and the traffic was chaotic so Aka dropped us off with her and said he'd find us once he drove through. (I know what you're thinking - how was he going to find us in this chaos? Don't worry - we were the only 'bule' (white people) there. He only had to ask people and everyone would have pointed to where we were!)
We followed her around while she did her shopping, which was fun. Many people wear traditional clothes here.
After a while we spotted Aka - he had only moved about 100 metres through the traffic! We'd had enough of the market so we jumped in the car. It still took us ages to get out. This was the gap we eventually squeezed through to get out - a bit like Cotch threading his way out of the centre, only much slower. Sorry for the poor photo - it was taken through the tinted windscreen.
We soon stopped again, this time to buy betelnut-chewing ingredients from ladies on the side of the road. Many people chew betelnut here and this is what Aka gives as gifts to village elders when we visit. I think there is money handed over to the elders too.
We spent a couple of hours driving down some incredibly rough roads. I thought the drive yesterday was the exception but it turns out it's the norm in the areas we're visiting! Our destination was the remote village of Boti. Once we parked, the path approaching the village was beautiful.
Boti is a unique village. The head of the village is the king. He has vowed to maintain the village's traditions. We had to meet him first and present our gifts of betelnut. It was hard to talk to him much as he spoke no English. At Boti, the people speak their own language and have a unique 9-day week. The 9th day is a day of rest and nobody does any work at all on this day. The men never cut their hair after they get married as they believe their hair is a connection to nature. Children are only allowed to attend primary school. Secondary school is considered to be the key to unhappiness!
John and the king.
This is the king's house.
The king isn't married, as he can only marry someone from his village and the pickings are slim! He has a nephew though and this young boy is destined to become the next king. He was playing with his slingshot when we met him.
Peering in a dark room, we found this woman frying bananas. They were then served up to us with very sweet tea. There were fried dried bananas and banana fritters. They were both delicious!
By now we were very familiar with the weaving process as we've had a few demonstrations. We were shown the process again here. They don't do ikat here, just weaving. This lady is hand-spinning the cotton.
This lovely old lady was cleaning the cotton.
I had been looking for a light blanket to carry with us the blankets on our beds are often too heavy or non-existent. All the weaving I had seen so far was either too small or too heavy. As they demonstrated the weaving here I was eying off the weaving hanging on the wall behind them. It was the right size. So, $100 later, I was the proud owner of a very unique piece of weaving. Each village has its own symbols on the weaving, so this is something special. These symbols are only produced in Boti. The lady in the photo below is the one who wove it.
We left Boti and headed out again. As we were driving through a village, Aka suddenly said that there were people dressed up - there must be a wedding. He stopped the car so I could take photos. I just waltzed up to these people, made a comment about their beautiful clothes then took a photo. Most people love having their photos taken by a 'bule'. Note that all the sarongs have a diamond pattern. That's the design for their village.
While I was taking the photos, Aka saw a lady he knew. Before you can say "how damn lucky are we" we were invited to come and see the wedding! It had been a long day and we were really tired, but we couldn't let an opportunity like this go by.
We timed it perfectly. As we arrived at the area set up beside the road, musicans were playing and a couple of dancers were getting right into it.
This guy took us under his wing.
As the ceremony proceeded, Aka explained the process. A dowry had been pre-arranged. The man must pay a dowry to the woman's family. A procession of the man's family approached the woman's family. The men led the way.
They were followed by girls carrying the dowry. I think the dowry also includes things like animals which obviously didn't form part of the procession.
The man's family then met the men from the woman's family at a designated point. A discussion then followed to ensure that all the dowry was there. If it wasn't all there then the man's family would have to go away and the wedding wouldn't proceed until all the full dowry was produced. This apparently really can happen.
After a few minutes of earnest discussion, the man's family was allowed to enter the wedding area. The dowry was complete!
The next step was the actual ceremony which we were assured just involved lots of talking, so we left them to it. We didn't see the bride and groom but it was such a privilege to be allowed to witness this part of the wedding.
We arrived in the town of Soe late in the day and Aka found us a great hotel with real sheets and a shower. Luxury! We ate dinner in a basic restaurant which is renowed for its smoked grilled pork then staggered to bed and slept like logs.
We were up early the next day and headed to another traditional village called None. First impressions weren't great as we drove past piles of plastic and rubbish plus an unusally skinny cow at the start of the village. It got better and better though. The village has a strong history. 56 families have lived here for nine generations and parents bury their baby's placenta in the centre of their hut.
We signed in (we always have to fill out a visitor's book) and were introduced to the head lady. (Her husband was away.) We met a lady who offered to show us how to chew betelnut. We both declined. All that red spit and bloody-looking teeth doesn't really do it for me! Kids get introduced to it when they're about 10 and it's very addictive so they're hooked for life. It's supposed to pick you up when you're tired or hungry.
The three ingredients for chewing betelnut are lime (in the container on the right below), pepper (the long, green thing in the basket below) and betelnut. There is both fresh and dried betelnut in the basket. Either can be used.
I'm constantly amazed how people just sit on the dirt or on hard floors to make things.
The houses here were the typical thatched-roof ones we've become used to seeing.
Like at Fatumnasi, smoky fires keep people warm and keep bugs out of the stored corn.
This boy was lovely.
Grandparents often look after their grandkids.
This is very typical of the houses in this part of West Timor - on the right is a newer style house, to the left of that is the traditional house, which is still used, and to the left of that is the all-important satellite dish! These are everywhere!
There must have been about 20 people helping with various things to do with building the house. Three old men 'supervised' while younger men did the harder work. A group of women were obviously preparing a large meal for everyone. One woman was chopping vegetables and her young child 'helped', complete with a real knife! Kids seem to do everything from an early age. It makes our western lifestyles look very sterile.
Another woman was stoking a fire with a huge pot coming to the boil on it. While I ignorantly wondered what they were going to cook, a woman intied a chicken and took it over to a couple of men with knives. We saw enough to realise that chicken was on the menu then turned away. Another chicken was brought up and as I left I saw another three trussed up, ready to go. When I look at the big picture, I realise that every rural house has chickens, cows, goats and/or pigs. They all end their lives under a knife, and are all butchered at home. There are 260 million Indonesians. That's a lot of chickens, pigs, goats and cows.This has been going on around the world for thousands of years. With the new generation of first-world kids being much more aware of animal welfare, I wonder how long it will take until this changes?
The track through the village ended at a special meeting place under a 200 year-old banyan tree. Every village has a 'totem' a special wood structure, and this one was beneath the banyan tree. Until about 70 years ago, the villagers here were headhunters. If there was some sort of grievance with another village, the warriors from None would meet under the banyan tree before a raid. Shamans would consult chicken eggs and their wooden staffs to decide if the warriors would win. The None became famous for never losing. They would bring home the heads of the people they killed and display them for all to see.
It's hard to imagine the peaceful people we met today are descended from such ferocious warriors.
We headed off again. When we stopped at a roadside viewpoint, this was one of a couple of little girls that were fascinated by us.
We neared Aka's home town of Kefamenanu and the style of the traditional houses changed. They now had verandahs of sorts, and the verandah posts were carved. Note the 'totem' out the front. Totems are often just forked branches. They help direct prayers to the ancestors.
We drove thorugh nearby villages and Aka just spoke to random people we met and got un invited in to see interesting things. This woman was pounding corn and we both had a go.
All the older women in this village wore distinctive necklaces made from old Dutch coins! They get passed on through the generations.
On the road again and it seems that no load will stop the smiles!
We were lucky to meet Aka's beautiful wife and some of his daughters at their house.
I'll be back with more soon!
Heather and John
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