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    Cow Cults of Indonesia

    July 24th, 2007 by steve

    To balance out all our fun scuba diving, we did a bit of cultural tourism on the island of Sulawesi. There’s a region called Tana Toraja with peculiar funerary habits that we thought sounded like it might be worth a couple 10 hour bus rides to check out. The region is largely Christian, but the locals have mixed in much of their animalistic tribal beliefs and such to create a set of rituals and practices around death that are pretty, well, interesting. When someone dies, there is a huge funeral ceremony. Temporary buildings are erected from bamboo to hold all the guests and everyone brings offerings of pigs or highly prized buffalo for the family.
    The ceremony might go on for up to a week for important/rich families. Towards the end, most of the animals are slaughtered and the meat eaten and then extras given to the guest and villagers or sold back at the markets. In these pictures, all the buildings are temporary; built on the family’s rice paddies. In the short time we were there (invited in for tea and deserts, of course), we saw a few thousand people come through in groups, all bearing animals; over 100 pigs and probably fifty buffalo while we were there. Guestimates were that over 100 buffalo would end up being sacrificed for this queen of the village with ten kids. She was almost 100 years old.

    These ceremonies are big deals that can take years to arrange and finance. In the meantime, the body is preserved and stays at home in the only bedroom of the traditional horned shaped home. Really. The deceased is pumped full of chemicals and lies in the bedroom (8x12ft) and is referred to as ‘the sick’. It’s not until the funeral that they are called ‘dead’.

    The fun doesn’t stop there. The last day of the funeral after the cock fight a procession leads the body to the village grave which is often in a cave or dug into limestone walls where the are places in the same coffin as their family. They often place statues called tau-taus of the dead in a gallery overlooking the graves. Each village has some area they’ve carved out and generation upon generation can be seen pile up. Literally. In some places, the coffins were hung from the ceilings of caves to keep them dry and away from preying animals.

    And you know us, we had to do a bit of crawling through the caves. With bats. Screeching bats that don’t like to be flashed. Yikes.

    One bummer on this part of the trip. Mary’s leg caught the muffler on our motorbike one day and caused some nice damage. It’s much better now, but it cost her some diving while it healed up.

    Posted in indonesia | 2 Comments »

    2 Responses

    1. Chum Says:

      Ack! looks like a nasty scar on that leg! that’s why you’re suppose to wear jeans on a motorbike! Bad!

    2. mary Says:

      jeans in indonesia? crikey!

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