Tana Toraja, a wonderful land of rituals
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.