Tana Toraja, a wonderful land of rituals

Text and photos by Ida Indawati Khouw

JAKARTA (JP): My husband and I had a hard time deciding where to spend our holiday in December. We had a long list of possible destinations but we thought most of the places were "unsafe" because the areas were prone to either social tension or natural disasters.

After a lengthy discussion, we eventually settled on Tana Toraja in South Sulawesi as the best choice. So off we went.

The choice, we soon realized, was a good one and in no way disappointing. The good omens started right when we landed in the provincial capital of Makassar. The nine-hour journey to Rantepao, Tana Toraja's main city, was smooth. There was no need to make bus reservation, as a friend of ours had suggested.

The bus service was excellent. The driver dropped us right at the homestay belonging to our friend Agustinus Lamba, even though it was located outside of Rantepao.

We later learned that the drivers of buses and vans in Rantepao were very generous and pleasant with their passengers. They will take you to your destination even if it is a bit far from the main road. They will even wait if you happen to have to fetch something from a friend's house along the way -- for free!

We arrived at the cool town early on a foggy morning. People in the street covered themselves with sarongs to protect themselves from the cold.

It was a great place. The homestay was surrounded by paddy fields and swamps. After 7 p.m. it was eerily quiet. In the morning, we woke up to the sounds of pigs, chickens and dogs.

We told Agustinus we wanted to see the famous Torajan rituals.

"Don't worry," Agustinus assured us, "it's easy here to find such rituals because they are commonplace. I guarantee you won't miss them."

Agustinus was right. Wherever we went we saw preparations for rituals of some sort.

Tana Toraja is indeed the land of rituals. It is not difficult to get information on cultural events. You can obtain such information from people in the street, at bus terminals and in the market. People also often know of planned rituals in other villages.

We were told of a ritual in the outlying village of Pangalla, a two-and-a-half-hour journey by minivan through rocky roads with beautiful hills and valleys on both sides.

"News about a ritual circulates in town because of the presence of villagers wanting to buy a large number of buffaloes and pigs for the ritual," Agustinus said.

The event at Pangalla was a thanksgiving party for the completion of the renovation of the tongkonan of a Tendeng clan. Tongkonan is a Torajan traditional house, which sits on stilts and has an elaborate bamboo roof.

The main part of the ceremony, which lasted the whole day, was the slaughter of 80 pigs. Their throats were slit one by one as the crowd looked on. Blood poured onto the ground and heaps of pork were scattered everywhere.

For first-time visitors, such a scene can be stomach-churning but for the locals there is nothing unusual about the killing spree. The pigs are turned into a delicacy called piong (pork cooked in bamboo and mixed with vegetables).

Funeral

The funeral ceremony is an important part of the Torajan tradition, and there were many of them in December. Again, the slaughter of animals is a main part of the ceremony.

I do not mean to say that many people died during our visit. According to tradition, Torajans are not immediately buried when they die. It can take months and even years for the deceased to be buried, because their relatives have to save money for the ceremony.

"Most of the ceremonies are held between June and December to coincide with the tourist season and school holidays," said our tour guide, Y. Palinggi.

The funeral ceremony can cost several hundred million or even billions of rupiah.

Palinggi said a grand ritual for the dead was important because according to traditional belief the ritual, called aluk to dolo, helps the souls of the deceased become deata (deified souls), meaning the offspring will be blessed. If there is no ritual the spirit will wander about and disturb its offspring.

While waiting for the ritual to be performed, the corpses are laid out in the tongkonan and treated like living human beings: offered food and drink and spoken to.

It took more than two years for the family of Erni from Tikalla, about five kilometers north of Rantepao, to be able to afford to bury her 70-year-old mother last December.

Thanks to the use of formalin, the corpse did not decompose. In the past, spices and magic spells were used to cope with the problem of decomposition.

For the two years Erni's mother waited to be buried, the corpse was guarded by a family member who served her food and other daily needs as offerings. The relative also talked to the corpse.

Funeral rituals can last as long as one week. The culmination of the ritual is the slaughter of buffalo. The number of buffalo slaughtered indicates the social and economic status of the family, thus people slaughter as many buffaloes as possible in a bid to show off their wealth.

In Balik, for instance, the family of 115-year-old Galla slaughtered 50 buffaloes, whereas according to local regulation a noble family like them must only slaughter 24 buffaloes for the ritual.

"I think the cost for this ritual was more than Rp 1 billion, because the price of one normal sized buffalo is over Rp 10 million. They also slaughtered special buffaloes (usually white ones with black spots) which cost almost Rp 50 million each," said Anis, one of Galla's grandsons.

But not all Torajans are as rich as the Gallas. Some people have been forced to sell their belongings for a lavish funeral ceremony.

Many "modern" Torajans no longer believe in this tradition, which has become the target of criticism from religious figures. A Catholic priest openly attacked the practice during Mass last Christmas Eve.

"I know it is a sensitive issue but as a priest I should say that holding a lavish party costing billions of rupiah is not in line with Christ's teachings .... The money can be used to help the poor," said the priest.

The majority of Torajans are Christian.

Agustinus said that such sermons were often given, but people did not listen. "(Changing the attitude) is difficult because those (from the higher classes) who do not hold expensive rituals will be excluded from society," said Agustinus.

This is what happened to Yakobus Lamba, who did not hold a ceremony when his wife passed away in Palopo in 1988.

"I just buried her four days after she died. Her relatives wanted to bring her body to her hometown in Tondon to be buried following the rituals, but I was opposed to the idea because I had no money.

"Now villagers are reluctant to interact with me, but I don't care. For me it is better to use the money to finance my children's education," Yakobus said.