Minahasa: A subdued warior rise again

Minahasa: A subdued warior rise again

Froly Lelengboto Horn, Contributor, Manado, North Sulawesi

That frightening clunking of wheels released for touchdown jerked
me out of a stupor.

Through the window of the tilting airplane, the poetic
appellation Tanah Nyiur Melambai (the land of waving coconut
trees) definitely seemed like an understatement.

Millions of coconut trees along the coast and inland form an
exotic velvety carpet in the unseen breeze, among which houses
seem like unnecessary trespassers here and there, except for the
huge cluster of buildings dominating Manado City.

Manado City belongs to all peoples of North Sulawesi. However,
the Minahasa people, being the majority in number and in
influence, have always been identified with this ancient city
which was originally called Wenang.

From my vantage point I could make out the huge gold letters
along the top of the airport's main building: SAM RATULANGI, the
name of one of Minahasa's favorite sons and Indonesia's first
doctor of mathematics, who along with the duo of Sukarno and
Mohamad Hatta and other political leaders helped define the
nation of Indonesia.

"Have the descendants of To'ar and Lumimu'ut awakened to their
cultural heritage yet?" was the thought that burgeoned in my
consciousness as I proceeded to the baggage claim area like Alice
in Wonderland.

Three years ago I had to fight my way in a tiny room of a
make-do airport. Arrivals and their welcomers swarmed chaotically
around the baggage conveyor belt, sweating like their favorite
thoroughbred in an anxious pre-race wait.

Now, the transformation is obvious. Vast, playful spaciousness
is the ambience successfully created by the almost asymmetrical
walls. Along those walls are glass mosaic windows, adding to the
refreshing impression with a banquet of colors -- sea blue as
backdrop -- depicting the ancient legends of the once proud
warrior-people.

The present baggage area is a huge airy lounge -- big green
pot plants breaking the whiteness all round -- filled with
expectant porters. A long automatic glass door separated the
baggage reclaim area and the arrival lounge, or shall I say
arrival terrace, as it leads down directly on to a beautifully
landscaped parking area that flaunts all sorts of tropical plants
sprawled beneath the swaying shades of luscious coconut trees.

Compared to porters in other airports around Indonesia, these
ones convey unusual confidence and a sense of having a right to
be there. They are right there in your face.

"Where can I find a trolley?" I queried one of them.

The amicably faced young man smiled widely as only an equal
would: "There is no trolley, Madam. That's why we are here."

Here is probably the only international airport in the world
where no trolley is available.

That's the inside. From the outside, the building -- its tall
round pillars the dominant external features -- is a 21st century
interpretation of the Minahasa traditional rumah tinggi
(literally tall house, or house on poles). A gigantic one, that
is.

Although the traditional house is customarily made of wood,
this one is of solid concrete painted in a sophisticated white.

It was a good sign indeed, and I gave a long hopeful sigh.

The name "Minahasa" derives from the word Mina Esa, which
literally means "Many as One". Altogether, there are nine main
tribes of Minahasa -- Tontemboan, Tombulu, Tonsea, Tolour,
Tonsawang, Pasangwangko, Ponosakan, Bantik, and Siaw -- who made
a covenant of unity with each other at Watu Pinabetengan (a
megalithic stone at a place called Pinabetengan) in 1642.

However, Minahasans believe that the historic stone was the
place where originally the nine ancestral chiefs had met before
they went their separate ways all over the land of the Minahasa.
Archeological estimations put the stone as around 3000-5000 years
old.

And so with the "Many as One" concept being also so entrenched
in Indonesia's genetic code at its conception, Minahasa decided
to put her future in the Republic of Indonesia. Despite
persistent attempts at political usurpation against the nation's
ethos throughout the years, Minahasa stands firm as a part of
Indonesia.

But for 30-odd years, at least, this people was taken for a
walk on a desert path that led to nowhere, drained of its
resources. Their land, once boasting cloves and coconuts, bowed
to the humiliating reality of economic and social retardation.

A people who had sent many pioneering teachers to other
islands throughout the archipelago to educate the nation's
children now mourned the loss of cultural dignity.

From about 50 years ago, its languages had ceased to be
included in the school curriculum. It is not an exaggeration to
say that most descendants of To'ar and Lumimu'ut are foreigners
to their own languages, culture and history.

Nevertheless, the tide is changing. Like the warrior sculpted
on the mosaic windows, the fighting spirit of the people has
started to stir once again above the tumultuous paradigm shift in
the country's political make-up.

In 1998, amid the nation's economic and political upheaval,
the Minahasa people were rudely awakened by the reality of the
sorry state of their beloved land and people. In 2001, the
government implemented regional autonomy, a golden chance that
proved the impetus for a new start for many ethnic groups in this
country.

For once, the Minahasa people have finally dared to look to
the past to find -- at least, begin to find -- their identity to
move forward in the future. Part of their precious heritage is
democracy, albeit in its simplest meaning.

In ancient times, a leader was never chosen or appointed by
default or by birth. Instead he or she was chosen by the people
through a democratic deliberation process. Aristocracy has never
been a legacy for the Minahasans; they have an egalitarian world
view. All people -- male and female, poor and rich, educated and
uneducated -- stand equal before the Almighty and in their own
eyes.

The democratic heritage is slowly being resurrected and
reactivated not only in appointing their governing leaders, but
also in the way governmental and private institutions are run. By
all means, it's a start.

A resurgence of interest in their languages is gaining
momentum. The old knowledge of literature and legends are
starting to come forth from the mouths of village elders and
those who are fortunate enough to receive it from their parents.
Dilapidated history books handed down throughout generations are
now either being rewritten or reprinted.

In a province where the overwhelming majority of the people
are Christian, the Bible is now in the process of being
translated in the four main languages of Minahasa: Tontembuan,
Tombulu, Toulour and Tonsea.

Arising like a cleansing wind is the move from ecologists and
environmental experts to fight back the deadly pollution on sea
and land caused by unthinking capitalistic efforts, such as gold-
mining and logging.

On the other hand, the environmental danger signals have given
a new holistic outlook to those revamping the regional economy.
It's a view that understands that long-term corporate negligence
in defiling the environment results in colossal social, health
and economic loss.

The average Minahasan is an intensely patriotic Indonesian.
The patriotism is obviously rooted in the fact that their fathers
fought with the rest of Indonesia for independence, their active
participation helping shape the nature and direction of the
republic.

But one of the causes of such patriotism is the strong belief
-- an ideal, perhaps -- that Indonesia was, is and will always be
a pluralistic nation where a people like the Minahasa can exist
in freedom, living side by side with other ethnic groups in the
archipelago.

Whether or not this belief will match reality is yet to be
seen.

Today, the Minahasa people are awake and moving forward, as
told by that spanking new airport standing in the brilliant sun,
surrounded by ancient blue ranges.

Hopefully, the warrior will never again return to its slumber.