Writer and photographer Alessandro Gandolfi looks into the culture of this Indonesian island that bursts with spirit.
"The ratu? He's sitting over there, trying to figure out if this will be a nice funeral," says a solemn onlooker.
Lying on the bloodied ground are a dozen disembowelled hens, and like an Etruscan haruspex, the elderly ratu – the great priest – solemnly explains to latecomers: "Yes, the entrails say that the one today will be an excellent funeral."
David Danggalolu and his wife Albertina died within a few days of one another, both from illness. A tragic event, which in small Mgambadeta, at the centre of western Sumba, must be honoured with the necessary pomp (and with the sacrifice of at least fifteen buffaloes).
That's why eighteen-year-old Umbu, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, who two minutes earlier smilingly explained that he loved listening to America R&B, doesn't give a moment's thought to unsheathing his parang and slitting the throat of the first buffalo of the day.
Sumba is one of the 18,000 islands in Indonesia. Twice as large as Balì and 400 kilometres farther east, Sumba was frequented by the Portuguese and then the Dutch, traders of the sandalwood. Sumba's isolation has allowed it to be better preserved: its slow rhythm, life marked by the agricultural cycles, the uncontaminated beaches, the raising of horses and the extraordinary megalithic tombs—it is one of the most fascinating and mysterious cultures in all of Indonesia.
At the tourist office of Waikabubak, a starting point for exploring the western zone, about fifteen people in khaki uniforms seem surprised by the presence of a tourist. A woman, Miss Anisa, came to sit in her office and says, "The best part of the island is the western part, Sumba Barat, more fertile and culturally richer than Sumba Timur, the eastern part."
"Here in Sumba, people still have the warriors' temperament," says André, a Frenchman who for several years has been making water wells in some local villages.
The ikat, Sumba's typical cloth so desired by tourists (its characteristic is the dying of the threads before the weaving), often depicts scenes of combat and warriors on horseback gripping long spears.
At the beginning of the planting season, from mid-February to mid-March, the warriors return to combat. Today, they do it during the Pasola, one of Indonesia's most famous festivals: a simulated battle during which groups of horsemen challenge and hit each other with long spears, the hola, from which the festival takes its name.
Pasola, the horsemen's festival, is also derived from another legend: Thousands of years ago Umbu Dula from Wanukaka left his village to go fishing but never returned. After
a while, his wife Rambu Kaba married another man, Tedo Gai Parana from Kori. Umbu Dula, however, wasn't dead: upon returning suddenly to the village, he burst into a rage, but Rambu Kaba didn't want to abandon her new husband and therefore Tedo Gai Parana had to pay Umbu the wife's price: buffaloes, horses, jewellery, weapons and nyale, the sacred sea-worms. To ensure peace, the people of Kori invited those of Wanukaka to a simulated combat, the Pasola, which, ever since then, has been celebrated every year in February and March, exactly when the sea is filled with nyale, the appearance of which is a good omen for the future harvests.
"Here in Sumba, people still have the warriors' temperament," says André, a Frenchman who for several years has been making water wells in some local villages.
The ikat, Sumba's typical cloth so desired by tourists (its characteristic is the dying of the threads before the weaving), often depicts scenes of combat and warriors on horseback gripping long spears.
At the beginning of the planting season, from mid-February to mid-March, the warriors return to combat. Today, they do it during the Pasola, one of Indonesia's most famous festivals: a simulated battle during which groups of horsemen challenge and hit each other with long spears, the hola, from which the festival takes its name.
Pasola, the horsemen's festival, is also derived from another legend: Thousands of years ago Umbu Dula from Wanukaka left his village to go fishing but never returned. After
a while, his wife Rambu Kaba married another man, Tedo Gai Parana from Kori. Umbu Dula, however, wasn't dead: upon returning suddenly to the village, he burst into a rage, but Rambu Kaba didn't want to abandon her new husband and therefore Tedo Gai Parana had to pay Umbu the wife's price: buffaloes, horses, jewellery, weapons and nyale, the sacred sea-worms. To ensure peace, the people of Kori invited those of Wanukaka to a simulated combat, the Pasola, which, ever since then, has been celebrated every year in February and March, exactly when the sea is filled with nyale, the appearance of which is a good omen for the future harvests.
Every year the government tries to keep the situation under control, but participants are often wounded or even killed on the field of festive battle. This was, in the end, the purpose of many battles in the past: not so much to square away accounts as to let human blood flow in honour of the ancestors, thus guaranteeing a good harvest.
"Do you see that stone slab over there?" says an elderly man during Mgambadeta's funeral.
"It's the tomb of our warrior Rato Dapaduu, who was killed while fighting against the Dutch. And his pistol has been buried along with him."
"Sumba is an island where the tombs are usually in the centre of the village in front of the dwellings to remind the inhabitants that death is the most important event of all," says André.
Funerals last entire weeks and the poor go to many lengths so as to be able to offer a worthy burial for their loved ones, thus keeping the tradition alive. The sacrifice of buffaloes and pigs sanctions the deification of the deceased, and the sacrificed meat is offered to those present in sumptuous feasts.
One of the most beautiful tombs of the island is at Pasunga, about twenty kilometres east of Waikabubak, and it is said that when it was built at the beginning of the last century, 150 buffaloes were killed.
Julius, the 40-year-old head of the village, explains that in 2000, when his father died, 24 animals were killed (more than 15 pigs, 7 horses and an indefinite number of dogs and sheep).
The buffalo horns still ornate the outside walls of his hut. Julius usually gets up at five in the morning and like everybody else goes to work in the rice fields. Today he lives peacefully together with his people, but a long stele on the main road reminds us that, deep down, these people remain warriors at heart.
Twenty years ago there was a conflict with the nearby village of Tamu Au, in which several people died and the head of the enemy chief was buried under that stele.
"We danced for many days, it was a great battle. Since then we haven't had any kind of relations with the people of Tamu Au," Julius says.
The kampung along the southern coast of Kori are among the most fascinating in Sumba. They offer a spectacular view of the nearby beaches frequented by the fishermen, whereas the houses of Paranobaroro and Wainyapu with their straw roofs tower beyond the forest. Raised from the ground, the Sumbanese dwellings have a raised first level with the floor made of bamboo, and a long veranda (the animals live underneath).
Ann McCue, a sixty-something Englishwoman, has lived her entire life divided between Washington and London, but in 2002, when she happened to come to Sumba on vacation and witnessed the Pasola, she fell in love with the island. She returned several times, until a year later she remained definitively.
"I decided to help these people, and I understood that there were two priorities: water and education," she says.
Ann founded "Project Hope – Sumba," which aims to create new wells, schools in the more depressed areas and courses for teachers.
"One out of two children of Sumba abandons school after only three years and is forced to work with his or her parents," Ann explains.
But she also admits that "many of them seriously want to improve. And then, here there's truly a lovely community, social relations, friendship, all of that which cannot be found in England anymore."
Ann thinks for a moment, sips her iced tea and smiles:
"Write down that here in Sumba, in order to improve things, even just a few people can really make a difference".
"Do you see that stone slab over there?" says an elderly man during Mgambadeta's funeral.
"It's the tomb of our warrior Rato Dapaduu, who was killed while fighting against the Dutch. And his pistol has been buried along with him."
"Sumba is an island where the tombs are usually in the centre of the village in front of the dwellings to remind the inhabitants that death is the most important event of all," says André.
Funerals last entire weeks and the poor go to many lengths so as to be able to offer a worthy burial for their loved ones, thus keeping the tradition alive. The sacrifice of buffaloes and pigs sanctions the deification of the deceased, and the sacrificed meat is offered to those present in sumptuous feasts.
One of the most beautiful tombs of the island is at Pasunga, about twenty kilometres east of Waikabubak, and it is said that when it was built at the beginning of the last century, 150 buffaloes were killed.
Julius, the 40-year-old head of the village, explains that in 2000, when his father died, 24 animals were killed (more than 15 pigs, 7 horses and an indefinite number of dogs and sheep).
The buffalo horns still ornate the outside walls of his hut. Julius usually gets up at five in the morning and like everybody else goes to work in the rice fields. Today he lives peacefully together with his people, but a long stele on the main road reminds us that, deep down, these people remain warriors at heart.
Twenty years ago there was a conflict with the nearby village of Tamu Au, in which several people died and the head of the enemy chief was buried under that stele.
"We danced for many days, it was a great battle. Since then we haven't had any kind of relations with the people of Tamu Au," Julius says.
The kampung along the southern coast of Kori are among the most fascinating in Sumba. They offer a spectacular view of the nearby beaches frequented by the fishermen, whereas the houses of Paranobaroro and Wainyapu with their straw roofs tower beyond the forest. Raised from the ground, the Sumbanese dwellings have a raised first level with the floor made of bamboo, and a long veranda (the animals live underneath).
Ann McCue, a sixty-something Englishwoman, has lived her entire life divided between Washington and London, but in 2002, when she happened to come to Sumba on vacation and witnessed the Pasola, she fell in love with the island. She returned several times, until a year later she remained definitively.
"I decided to help these people, and I understood that there were two priorities: water and education," she says.
Ann founded "Project Hope – Sumba," which aims to create new wells, schools in the more depressed areas and courses for teachers.
"One out of two children of Sumba abandons school after only three years and is forced to work with his or her parents," Ann explains.
But she also admits that "many of them seriously want to improve. And then, here there's truly a lovely community, social relations, friendship, all of that which cannot be found in England anymore."
Ann thinks for a moment, sips her iced tea and smiles:
"Write down that here in Sumba, in order to improve things, even just a few people can really make a difference".
MapMore on Sumba
Fly to Bali and once there take a ferry. Sumba is one of the islands of Nusa Tenggara that stretches out to the east of Bali. In Sumba, the dry season is approximately from March to October. Waikabubak, the capital of West Sumba, is the ideal starting point for exploring the western part of the island by car or motorcycle.
Places to Stay and to Eat
The Manandang Hotel and the Artha Hotel. In the city, you can eat excellent lotek – rice, vegetables and peanut sauce. In Sangkuring, a warung nasi (rice restaurant) can be found on your right as you leave town heading east along the Bhayangkara.
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