Sumatra's remote tribes hanging on to existence
Sumatra's remote tribes hanging on to existence
Kafil Yamin, Inter Presse-Service, Pangkalan Ranjau, Jambi
At first glance the structure, with bamboo walls and a roof of
thatched coconut palm leaves, looked uninhabited.
Inside however were the figures of sleeping children, who did
not remain asleep for long.
They jumped up in fright and were about to run away with their
mother when an authoritative and old voice calmed them.
"They always run away when strangers approach," explained
Bujang Ismail, who at 80 has seen the land and the way of life
for its people change dramatically. The old man spoke to them
softly, comforted them and convinced them there was no harm at
hand.
Around the small structure the Sumatran forest was still, and
the little family -- mother, children and tribal elder -- warily
settled down again.
Members of the Anak Dalam tribe, they have seen their ancient
habitats shrink, their traditional coexistence with the forests
threatened by the unchecked spread of the plantation economy,
their sacred places destroyed, the future of their identity
jeopardized.
Here, in the village of Pangkalan Ranjau, live 76 families.
Away in all directions stretches the dense green of the remaining
forest in Jambi province toward the south of Sumatra island.
Jakarta seems very far away indeed -- and it is, 2,800
kilometers away to the east, and after that a tough six-hour ride
along tortuous trails in a four-wheel drive vehicle, and then
another three-hour trek to reach the place where the Anak Dalam
gather.
Civilization, as many like to call it, is an age away.
Eventually, the young mother, whose name is Isa, felt
comfortable enough to speak about her life and her children, whom
she raised by herself. Her first husband, she explained, died two
years ago, leaving behind two daughters while her second husband
abandoned her and their son.
Isa said she leaves her children in the rough shelter they
call home to search for food in the forest and along the river.
She sets out every morning and returns only after sunset, for she
also tends her farmed plots deep inside the forest where she has
planted cassava, banana and sugarcane.
Isa has also to take care of the elderly in the Anak
Dalam villages. "I search for cassava, fish, and banana in the
forest for my children and old people here," she said, holding
her youngest son.
Beside her, a daughter coughed and spat repeatedly.
"She is sick," said Isa sadly. "I could not get herbal plants
for her illness in the forest so far. It's different now -- herbs
seem to be disappearing."
Despite the apparent lushness of the forest, the staple food
for Isa and her children is cassava mixed with salt.
"Occasionally we have rice," said Isa. "But it is getting hard
to find these days. So we just have cassava flavored with salt."
The Anak Dalam get their rice by bartering fish, banana or
rattan.
At Tanjung Lebar, another village about 75 kilometers away,
where 200-odd Anak Dalam families live, it became clear that the
simple economic exchange the tribe favors is also under threat.
Mugiono, the village headman, said: "There used to be an
abundance of fish in this river. When we went fishing, each one
of us could return home with kilograms of fish. We would exchange
the fish with rice and other necessities. Now, we can only take
home one or two small fish for our own consumption.
"We may also go home empty-handed after a whole day of
fishing."
"I have been wandering along the river since morning," an old
woman interrupted. "I got nothing."
Mugiono explained that fish has become scarce ever since the
transmigration site was built in the 1980s in the nearby forest.
"The men in the transmigration compound used chemical
substances to get fish," he recalled. "Yes, they got a lot of
fish, but the fish population is continually decreasing."
The transmigration program -- a gigantic and disruptive
relocation of entire peoples from overpopulated islands,
especially Java, to other islands in the sprawling archipelago --
was zealously followed during the 33-year-rule of Soeharto.
The fallout was severe social and economic trauma for both the
migrants and the host societies.
For the Anak Dalam, the migration policy came close to being a
death knell for their society.
The subsistence model of the tribe included hunting and food
gathering in the forest, as well as practicing simple
agriculture. To provide for their daily needs they depended
greatly on what they could harvest, extract and gather naturally.
Traditionally, hunting was done by male members of the community,
both individually and in small groups, using spears and assisted
by dogs. They hunted boar and 'a type of turtle.
Some remain untouched, even today. An estimated 450 Anak Dalam
live in the jungles of the nearby Surolangun area, rarely seen as
they hide from any visitors. They are said to wear garments made
of bark and fiber, and are as close to the ancient ways of the
tribe as their cousins in Tanjung Lebar have moved away from the
forest existence, with their televisions and radios.
Elders like Bujang Ismail have little time for such
indulgences. The tribal elder said that waste vented into the
river from nearby palm oil plantations has destroyed fish stocks
in the river.
That isn't his only complaint -- the forest is far from the
reliable source of food it used to be.
"Nothing is left in the forest for us to eat,'' said the old
man.