The first village on our October 2010 Education trip was the tiny
village of Yenbuba on Mansuar Island in the Dampier Strait Area. This village is not drastically dissimilar to the majority
of villages in Raja Ampat, but there was something special here…
The captain was late for our departure from Sorong, and
combined with the weather and waves, it meant arriving at our destination of
Yenbuba in the middle of the night.
Not being sure of the condition of the jetty at Yenbuba, the captain
decided not to take the risk of docking at a new site at night, and went around
the corner (which was not ‘just around the corner’ but a 1.5 hour steam around
to the other side of the island) to find a safe spot to drop anchor until the
crew had a better chance to assess the situation in the morning and possibly move
the boat back around to the dock.
The crew prepared to drop anchor as usual, and when the
captain gave the signal, they let fly… I was roused from my work by alarmed
shouts from the bow as the crew realized that the end of the anchor line wasn’t
secured, and they tried in vain to hold the end of the rope themselves - we learned the hard way the origin of the saying 'the bitter end'! As the last of it slipped through their
hands, we noted the gps position, radar reference and sonar display, but with the combination of the continued
motion of the ship, the swift currents, and the fact that it was dark and we
could take no point of visual reference from land, I realized there was a very small
possibility that our position was accurate and that we might find the anchor.
How it’s possible that anyone would think to toss anchor
without it attached to the ship is absolutely incomprehensible to me… but no
one is placing any blame, although this disastrous situation was a combination
of very blatent human errors…
For four days, with the help of our monitoring team, another
few local volunteer divers, we searched the 50-meter depths for our lost
anchor. (This of course, while the education program continued in the village). Even with the use of the ship’s
sounder, radar, gps and the entire crews’ recollection of the events, we found
no signs of it and so after too many days at too deep depths, we called off the
search. Only later that night did
we find out that during the time we were combing the depths, the village elders
were extremely concerned for us…
Turns out the exact spot that we lost our anchor is the
long-time home of a local sea ghost.
The community believes that our anchor was perhaps taken and hidden by
the ghost, and it was obvious to them that was the reason we were unable to recover it during out exhaustive
search. They apologized… they were
worried about us and should’ve warned us, but were afraid we would think they
were silly backward local traditions.
Of course, how could we know this was not a spot to be messed with… they
didn’t blame us, but suggested that if we wanted to any hope of every finding
our anchor, or if we wanted to apologize to the spirits for dumping it on them
in the first place, it would be best to perform a traditional ceremony. They couldn’t guarantee anything of
course, but it was the right thing to do, so not wanting to disappoint them, we
proceeded with the ceremony.
All this news came to us via a member of our team who is
originally from Yenbuba, who heard through a friend and community member – they
suggested we confer with the local traditional council, and acknowledge our
ignorance and recent awareness of the issue. In order to do this, we had to go to the home of one of the
village elders, where three of the prominent village elders were gathered and
received us. They conversed with
us in bahasa Indonesia and in their local language (through our friend and
team-member), and we all decided, regardless of the fact that we had called off
the search, that it would be best to apologize in case our inappropriate
actions had angered the spirits, however unintentioned.
I thought we were just going for a meeting to decide on the
next steps, but all of a sudden we were in motion… gathering the required elements
for a proper ceremony, and heading into the forest along the path to the
coastal area where the sea spirit roams.
(Of course, I was barefoot, but I figured with all the playing
on a gravel driveway, I could handle it… although I was fine, my feet are
certainly nothing compared to the tough feet of the men who led us – their
thick and gnarled leather soles have no need for shoes – a result of a lifetime
without shoes on any and all surfaces, of the men who led us).
As we traveled into the forest, we were met by the remains
of a previous failed attempt to build a road… a little while later we came face
to face with the reason it failed:
the skeletons of the machines that didn’t make it to the end laid
scattered along the ‘roadside’, silently telling the tale of yet another
example of poorly planned and executed building/construction scheme fraught
with corruption. When I asked how
long ago the road was under construction, the response took me by surprise: 2
years… how quickly the tropical forest and Nature takes back what’s hers.
Without any word, we stopped at the top of the hill when the
elder dropped to his knees and raised his crossed arms over his forehead and
began to speak to the mountain. He
was letting the nature spirits know of our mission to go make an offering and
asking, with the greatest respect, for permission for our safe passage through
the forest. Apparently this is the
first stop on any journey to make an offering, and the place the elder can best
connect to the nature spirits. (I
later found out this hill is now called ‘gunung wartel’ or phonebooth mountain,
because it is the only place you can get a cell signal on the island – ahhh the
irony!)
He got up as though nothing had happened and we carried on
along our way. Finally we broke
free of the disheveled road and to my relief (and that of my poor, easily-toasted
skin) made our way along a pleasantly-shaded, fresh footpath path. When we got to the spot the elder deemed
to be closest to the sea spirits’ home (and the spot we lost our anchor), we
stopped again. This time we waited
as a makeshift temple was created out of completely natural materials (sticks
for the table, with large beach leaves as the offering dishes. (According to the elder the nature
spirits dislike it if any plastic or non-natural materials are used.) Onto the offering dishes were placed
the customary tri-substance medley: siri pinang kapur (betelnut, siri and lime) along with
cigarettes. Had we had more time I
was told that preparations would’ve included yellow rice as well as three
pieces of cloth (one each red, yellow and black).
The offerings to nature and the spirits of the sea, also
called 'kakes' in the local language, were offered in a special ceremony to ask
forgiveness in case we had disturbed the spirits or the balance of nature. The ceremony was lead by the same village
elder and the speech was seemingly indistinguishable from the first time atop
the hill to me (I caught only a few words that I have learned in this local
language). This particular village
elder is said to be the only one to have a direct strong connection to the natural
spirits. Another village elder
then said a prayer (which, of course, I couldn’t distringuish from the previous
‘ceremony’)!
Ok, so we’ve appeased the sea spirit, and we’re getting in
the boat and heading back now, right?
Nope, there is a third ceremony to our ceremonial series, which involves
getting in the boat and going to the actual home of the sea spirit to toss more
offerings directly into the sea, complete with another communion with the spirits.
I certainly hope with all this we were able to appease the
sea spirits, and even if we never do see our anchor again, it was very
interesting to be involved and witness the process, and I felt honoured to be
included. And I wonder if the spirits from Yenbuba were indeed the manifestation of the Spirit which was hatched from the 7th egg from the
Raja Ampat creation myth?
I remember the first time I came to Raja Ampat I had the
feeling that there was something truly magical/mystical about this place… That feeling has been slowly degrading over
the last couple years… I can’t believe that the magic has become commonplace to
me, but I would less like to believe that it has been lost to the area. Sitting on the jetty at Yenbuba in the
evening talking about the stories of the elders after a day full of interesting
happenings made me feel it again…but also made me think it will be lost soon…
the new generation more interested in praying to the cellular god than finding
any kind of truly meaningful relationship with the spirits of the sea or cultivating the rich culture and traditions of their people.
Just as a note for those of you reading this and asking if
she’s gone off her rocking with all this talk of sea spirits and ghosts… No, I
don’t necessarily believe in ghosts, but I do believe in the power of belief,
and I respect the beliefs of those areas I visit and people I encounter. I also find it very interesting from an
anthropological stand-point, and would never want to deter anyone from sharing
their traditional stories and beliefs!
Especially those that respect and honour the power and intricacies of
nature and Mother Earth.
Sorry no pics of this, as I said, it was completely
spontaneous, and I didn’t even have the chance to grab shoes let alone a camera!!!
