Photos courtesy of Bruce Carpenter
endangered species like, magical encounters with pure Indonesian traditional culture and without mixture became increasingly rare events in the 21st century. While the outlook for long-term survival are bleak, miraculous surprises can come when least expected.
Arriving under cover of dusk, the reality of a new national border evil comfortable set up between the Indonesian and Timor East Timor came at dawn when the harbor master sent a stern warning to move our ship of 200 meters to the west that we were rooted in "" foreign waters.
My apprehensions of a sad turn of Belu, the bastions of people Tetum, one of the most incredible traditional crops were only grown by the cold reception of local Indonesian authorities who looked suspiciously our papers apparently unsure how to react to the first luxury tour boat to land tourists in Atapupu, gloomy harbor surrounded by high fences and barbed wire remains of a troubled separate ways.
As we headed into the hills above Atambua, a traditional village and seat of local government, proud hills, thatched roofs and colorful costumes amazed me. Encouraged, I began to entertain the thought that the strict ban on outside had unwittingly created a time warp of sorts that had preserved culture.
My hopes rose only we found ourselves on a rocky outcrop in the fortified village of Tuaninu. Stopping before a stone gate, we were greeted by a delegation of former proud wrapped in ikat rags and wearing old swords with handles shaped parrots. Tattooed, brown and wrinkled they exposed betel stained teeth as they sang the old greeting before allowing entry.
Suddenly, without warning two rows of about 30 girls between 8 and 14 let out a war cry as they beat their hourglass shaped drums of tifa furiously and walked towards us. Their youth and enthusiasm combined with powerful rhythms were as overwhelming as their colorful costumes that included Hairstyles soaked with silver coins dating as far back as the 17 e century.
Photos courtesy of Bruce Carpenter
For the next three hours we were delighted by other dances reflecting the ancient history and the people resort Belu that straddle both sides of an invisible border for them. direct descendants of the ancient Austronesians, centuries contact with the outside world that their coveted sandalwood and "yellow gold" would lead many influences and the influx of dollars into money. Despite this, they would maintain their core beliefs in ancestors who are still supposed to visit the sacred house in the village during ceremonies. After sharing their world older women, many with tattooed hands gave us the 'kiss' traditional rubbing their noses against ours. Tears flowed as we returned to the coast.
Famous for their textiles and fine carvings of the continued survival of Belu ways is still uncertain that the region is developing rapidly and the old ways evaporate. A good example occurred on Sermata in 2009, a very isolated island in Maluku Southeast. Two years prior to our passengers were pictures of people. Surprisingly, and despite the fact that there was no cell phone coverage on the island, foreigners were besieged by people wanting to take photos of visitors on their mobile phones. We can not prevent the inevitable, but so too preserving memory and instilling local people with pride in traditional culture can prevent the descent of every third person world with a blank generic species dressed in dirty, ripped shorts and t-shirts. advancing material is of great importance, but without culture, art and identity, it leaves a shell of well-fed human existence. It takes more to feed the soul and the body.