Stone age meets church in Indonesian Papua

Stone age meets church in Indonesian Papua

Dean Yates
Reuters
Hebuba, Papua

Against the backdrop of mist-shrouded mountains and a new brick
church, tribesmen in Indonesia's restive Papua province grabbed
their bows and began firing arrows into more than 100 pigs tied
to stakes.

The dying pigs howled and thrashed madly. A few bloodied
beasts broke free, sending women and children scattering until
groups of men from the warlike Dani tribe brought them down.

One huge pig made it to the nearby Baliem river. Three youths
jumped in and kept its head under the water until it drowned.

All this time, 2,000 villagers danced to mark the opening of a
new Catholic church -- celebrated with a traditional pig feast --
keeping alive the customs of the central highland's Baliem
valley, a lush region hidden from the world until an American
explorer discovered it in 1938.

Tradition still thrives in Papua, the Indonesian western half
of New Guinea island where some tribes only emerged from the
Stone Age decades ago.

But those traditions, especially in places such as the Baliem
valley, have had to fight the forces of Christian missionaries,
tourism and a government in Jakarta bent on modernization.

Once, cannibalism was rife. So was tribal warfare. And despite
the cold, Dani men wore nothing but penis gourds, a dried
vegetable sheath held in place by a string around the waist.

The warring among Dani clans and the taking of heads has
largely disappeared, although media recently reported two tribes
in this region battled for days over a land dispute, killing
three. Fewer men wear the penis gourds.

But the pig feasts, such as the one at Hebuba village, remain
and the Dani identify strongly with their culture and history.

"There is no contradiction between our religion and the
ancient traditions," said church official Niko Lani, wearing
black trousers and shirt and white tennis shoes. Several feathers
were tucked into a band around his head.

"But religion helped get rid of bad things."

At the pig feast, only a few old men wore the gourds. Many had
war paint on their faces, or yellow and white feathers from
Papua's famous birds of paradise in elaborate head-dresses.

Home to the highest peaks between the Himalayas and the Andes,
few places are as remote or inhospitable as Papua.

The Baliem and its administrative capital Wamena -- 3,500 km
(2,200 miles) east of Jakarta -- is accessible only by plane.

Largely Christian and animist Papua was incorporated into the
world's most populous Muslim nation in 1963. In 1969, a UN-run
plebiscite held among local leaders resulted in a vote to join
Indonesia. The vote has been called unfair.

The Baliem is a 60-km by 15-km (38- by 10-mile) pocket of land
nestled amid rugged mountains. It is home to 120,000 people,
including migrants from other parts of Indonesia who control
commerce.

Besides their farming skills, the Dani have few other ways to
make money. That has forced many to cash in on their culture.

Photograph a Dani wearing a gourd and he will seek payment.

At several villages, great leaders of the past called "big
men", who have been smoke-cured into a mummified squat, are
brought out of thatched huts for US$6. In the same villages,
bare-breasted women in grass skirts will pose -- for Rp 1,000
($10 cents) a photo.

Tribal fights can be commissioned, as can a pig slaughter.
Still, Dani leaders scoff when asked if their culture has been
commoditized or might be dying out.

"We cannot be separated from our culture," said clan leader
Jali Mabel at Jiwika village after emerging from his hut, his
forehead smeared with black soot and wearing only a gourd.

Maybe so, but contact with the outside world has given the
young a choice. At the church festival, their shirt of choice had
the name Beckham or Rivaldo inscribed on the back.

Another influence has been mainly American missionaries, who
poured into the Baliem valley in the 1950s.

Two hours drive from Hebuba, over rickety wooden bridges and a
pot-holed road, lies the Protestant village of Pyramid.

Here, white clapboard houses with brick chimneys stand in
contrast to the domed thatched Dani huts. Most missionaries have
since left Pyramid, handing over the reins to local priests.

Missionaries are revered by some Papuans in the highlands. But
senior members of the Papuan church elite accuse the conservative
evangelical groups of brainwashing.

Indeed, missionaries are treading an increasingly fine line
when it comes to converting Papuans as Indonesia takes on a more
Muslim flavor. Several missionaries approached by Reuters
declined to speak about their work or status in Papua.

Prominent Protestant church leader Benny Giay slammed the
conservative evangelical groups.

"Wherever they have gone, they have brainwashed I think maybe
three generations of church leadership with their own
understanding of Christianity, which is not open to our culture,
our wisdom, our history," said Giay.

Local officials have never really had a problem with the
missionaries, seeing them as a bridge to the remote regions.

Back at the festival, pigs roasted under log fires.

One fearsome looking Dani man, tusks through his nose and a
spear in his hand, paced around the field, chanting a welcome to
visitors. His only other attire -- white Adidas tennis shorts.

"We will pass these traditions on to our children, like our
fathers did," said Josep Siep, watching the display, as he shared
tobacco with two other men wearing nothing but a sheath and
multi-colored feathers in their hair.

Those who worship soccer superstars David Beckham and Rivaldo
may think otherwise.