Below the Baliem sky

The two lofty mountains standing between a vast field in this Baliem valley of Irian Jaya are so beautiful because they look like huge women's breasts. New visitors to this central highland will find the view fantastic. A cool wind sweeps this idyllic and peaceful valley everyday.

But to the local Dani tribe, who still live in the Stone Age, the landscape is nothing more than a daily reality. Many tribal people now feel that their life is boring.

Five women wearing primitive dress were busy harvesting sweet potato, the local staple food. They were wives of Weakmotok Gozina who, like many other members of the tribe, practiced polygamy.

Today, while his wives were busy in the field, Weakmotok was strolling around the regency town to enjoy himself. The weather was too cold and no birds were seen flying. Even the sun had difficulty breaking through the morning mist. Instead of the usual birds' songs, people only heard the sound of traditional wooden spades piercing the soil.

Women here are really hard workers. But they do the job not because of an accepted work ethic but for fear of their husbands. Their marriages are no better than a jail in which they are physically and spiritually imprisoned. It is another form of slavery.

That is why Dani women prefer a polygamous husband because the more wives he has, the more their daily burdens are reduced.

Weakmotok's women sighed from tiredness, and their sweat was able to pass through their mud-covered pores. The people here like to smear their almost naked bodies with mud to protect themselves from the cold wind.

From the direction of the town the silhouette of Weakmotok was seen fading in. His two hands met on the neck, the common way the Dani people reduced the impact of the wind on their body.

Dani men are naked except for the koteka, what anthropologists call a penis sheath, covering their most private part.

Weakmotok looked darker this morning because his skin was smeared with coal powder mixed with pork fat as a protection against cold weather.

He peered at his wives with eagle's eyes. Watching his third wife wielding a spade so slowly, Weakmotok shouted: "Way, what has happened with you?"

Hanno Watlaqa did not react. She was a strong woman with muscled hands and vigorous shoulders. Her husband's bark actually frightened her but she said nothing.

She looked at the man who was standing not far from her with an inconceivable expression, a mixture of anger and pain.

Her silence made Weakmotok even more quarrelsome. He repeated his shout several times. Getting no answer, he picked up a handful of soil and threw it towards her. He did not mean to hit Hanno. He only wanted to frighten her.

The way he expressed his anger also frightened his other wives. There had been so many times when they had been victims of Weakmotok's failure to control his emotions.

Hanno decided not to move. She stared at her husband with the same fierce look. But suddenly she felt her powerful legs go numb. She fainted while holding her big belly.

The sight made Weakmotok more emotional. Instead of helping the woman, he roared at the top of his voice, "Shit, what kind of woman are you?"

He was actually concerned to see her condition but that did not mean he had sympathy for her. All the women in this valley are supposed to be strong and their stamina is the gauge of their husband's prosperity. The more prosperous he is, the greater is the possibility he will take a new wife.

A wife's weakness not only reduces productivity but also tarnishes the husband's good name in this men's world. A man with ailing wives is the laughing stock of his fellow tribe members.

Hanno, who was still clutching her belly, tried to rise. Weakmotok's other wives began to help her, but they stopped after hearing their husband's yell to go back to their work.

Weakmotok left the scene to find out whether there were people watching Hanno's condition. If there were he would return to box her black and blue.

Hanno tried to endure the pain by biting hard on her thick lips. She limped slowly to reach the fence gate of the large garden from where she could move further to the bush.

The mist darkened the slippery path but Hanno knew every inch of the area. She realized how hard life was for her and other Dani women. But she had to be strong.

She wanted to go to a site in the bush which is off-limits to men. The path leading there was opened by women two weeks ago and was not bad. No sound was heard in the bush.

Hanno moved further. When the tall casuarina tree was in sight, she felt her pain disappear. But fear suddenly engulfed her as her two earlier tragic experiences came to mind.

Both babies were, unfortunately, male. This was what troubled her. If the embryo in her womb came out as another boy, she could imagine how furious her husband would be.

In the primitive society like theirs a boy would just be useless. On the other hand, a girl is expected to be a very productive offspring who one day will be able to boost her father's well-being.

When Hanno reached the tree she took a rest under it. Nearby, somebody had placed a traditional birthing kit for a woman in labor. This included a bag made of tree bark, which will be used as a bed for the baby, complete with a bed cover made of dried swamp grass. There was also a piece of the inner part of tree bark to clean the baby of blood, and a sharp bamboo stick to cut the umbilical cord.

It had long been tradition here that a woman should be able to help herself in the labor, and that was why men preferred a strong woman to be a wife.

Hanno's two previous labors gave her no problem. But this time she felt uneasy. She remembered a woman of the village who had a bad experience during labor less than "a cycle of the moon" ago. The woman had given her husband a baby girl after producing three boys.

But that day everything had gone wrong for her. She fainted while giving birth. When she regained consciousness she found her baby had been torn apart by a wild boar. This scene played over and over in Hanno's mind.

She saw blood streaming down the lower part of her body. She raised her traditional frock, which was made of long and coarse grass. She leaned against the tree and gathered all her strength for the toughest task.

Suddenly she heard someone coming. She tried to stand up and cover the lower part of her body. What she had been most afraid of was now a horrible reality.

"Hush, hush, hush! Go away!" she shouted at an approaching skinny wild boar, which pierced her with its hungry eyes.

The panting beast might have smelled the blood. But it retreated several steps before it stared back at her.

Hanno tried with all her energy to hold off the labor but mother nature wanted otherwise. She cried loudly as the baby spurted out of the womb. No sooner had this happened than she fainted.

Meanwhile at Weakmotok's field, his other wives worried about Hanno's condition. They took a risk by discussing ways to help her despite their husband's ruling that any gesture of solidarity was taboo.

The co-wives decided to give full authority to the eldest among them to help Hanno.

When they were later asked by their husband about the first wife's absence, the three said she had gone to the bush to defecate. But the trick did not work. He exploded in anger on hearing that and vowed to find out the truth.

His wives understood that with such an intensity of rage he would end up beating a wife.

Weakmotok's search ended at the edge of the bush because he was not allowed to transgress the border of the restricted area. Mother nature would curse him if he did.

At the site where Hanno had just given birth, the wild boar was approaching. In a moment the beast had seized the blood- soaked placenta.

The boar suddenly looked up when it heard the sound of someone approaching. The boar was ready to attack as the old woman appeared, but she had brought a spade.

As the beast attacked the old woman was combat ready. Even after the boar was wounded, it continued to attack by trying to bite the woman's leg. But she managed to land another blow on the boar's body and wounded it quite seriously. The beast limped away.

Hanno regained consciousness. The old woman was happy to find the newborn was a she and shouted joyously: "Aih, it is a girl". She took the baby and put it near the mother.

"Now you have a daughter, Hanno," she said.

"Oh, it is a she?" Hanno asked with a broad smile although she still felt pain.

Both of them left the bush for home. At the border area they were shocked by the sight of their husband, who was waiting with fury etched on his face.

"You are both rogues. You don't know what you are doing. Do you think that I haven't paid you? Your dowries are a great loss to me."

Trying to calm the man, his first wife said with a quivering voice: "But Weakmotok, Hanno has given you a baby."

"Baby? Useless!" the husband retorted. "I have asked the fortune teller, who told me that I would never have a daughter."

"What did you say? I'll kill your daughter now!" Hanno said taking out the baby out of her tree-bark bag.

The baby cried suddenly. Weakmotok was surprised to see the baby and his mouth fell agape. He looked at his wife. "You,...You can produce a girl? Oh, I've got a daughter." Taking the baby into his arms, he exploded in laughter.

Then he continued to bark orders but with a difference. "Hey, why do you just remain silent? Quick, let's go home. Invite the community leader to our feast..."

The two women looked at each other without saying a word. But they were happy to find their husband was kinder now. They proceeded home behind him, while Weakmotok kept shouting:"I have a daughter, ... I have a daughter!"

He must have been imagining the fortune this baby would bring him one day. He would have to wait for someone to pay him the advance payment on the baby's dowry. And that would be his opportunity to take another wife.

Writer's note: Hanno's bitter experience is rarely found in the Irian Jaya's central highlands today. Development efforts have brought sweeping changes to the area.

Translated by: TIS

Aria Kamandaka was born in a village on the slope of Mount Willis, East Java, on May 22, 1960. He started writing after he met Kho Ping Ho, a popular Indonesian writer of Chinese self- defense (silat) novels, in 1981. Aria began writing stories for elementary school pupils. Later he also wrote several silat novels, a biography, essays on education, short stories and poems. Between 1984 and 1991, he worked as a primary school teacher in Irian Jaya, subsequently returning to his birthplace to assume the same job.