Part 7 (2/2)
The ”clerk of the weather” (he has no official t.i.tle, though the great importance of his function secures him general respect) has no knowledge of the number of days in the year, and does not count their pa.s.sage. He is aware that the lunar month has twenty-eight days, but he knows that the dry season does not recur after any given number of completed months, and therefore keeps no record of the lunar months. He relies almost entirely upon observation of the slight changes of the sun's alt.i.tude. His observations are made by the help of an instrument closely resembling the ancient Greek gnomon, known as TUKAR DO or ASO DO (Pl. 60).
A straight cylindrical pole of hardwood is fixed vertically in the ground; it is carefully adjusted with the aid of plumb lines, and the possibility of its sinking deeper into the earth is prevented by pa.s.sing its lower end through a hole in a board laid horizontally on the ground, its surface flush with the surface of the ground which is carefully smoothed. The pole is provided with a shoulder which rests upon this board. The upper end of the pole is generally carved in the form of a human figure. The carving may be very elaborate, or the figure may be indicated only by a few notches. The length of the pole from the collar to its upper extremity is made equal to the span from tip to tip of outstretched arms of its maker, plus the length of his span from tip of the thumb to that of the first finger. This pole (ASO DO) stands on a cleared s.p.a.ce before or behind the house, and is surrounded by a strong fence; the area within the fence, some three or four yards in diameter, being made as level and smooth as possible. The clerk of the weather has a neatly worked flat stick, on which lengths are marked off by notches; these lengths are measured by laying the stick along the radial side of the left arm, the b.u.t.t end against the anterior fold of the armpit. A notch is then cut at each of the following positions: one notch about one inch from the b.u.t.t end, a second opposite the middle of the upper arm, one opposite the elbow, one opposite the bend of the wrist, one at the first interphalangeal joint, one at the finger-tip. The other side of the rod bears a larger number of notches, of which the most distal marks the greatest length of the mid-day shadow, the next one the length of the mid-day shadow three days after it has begun to shorten, the next the length of the shadow after three more days'
shortening, and so on. The mid-day shadow is, of course, the minimal length reached in the course of the day, and the marks denoting the changes in length of the shadow are arrived at, purely empirically, by marking off the length of the mid-day shadow every three days.
The clerk of the weather measures the shadow of the pole at mid-day whenever the sun is unclouded. As the shadow grows shorter after reaching its maximal length, he observes it with special care, and announces to the village that the time for preparing the land is near at hand. When the shadow reaches the notch made opposite the middle of the arm, the best time for sowing the grain is considered to have arrived; the land is therefore cleared, and made ready before this time arrives. Sowing at times when the shadow reaches other notches is held to involve various disadvantages, such as liability to more than the usual number of pests -- monkeys, insects, rats, or sparrows. In the case of each successful harvest, the date of the sowing is recorded by driving a peg of ironwood into the ground at the point denoting the length of the mid-day shadow at that date. The weather prophet has other marks and notches whose meaning is known only to himself; his procedures are surrounded with mystery and kept something of a secret, even from the chief as well as from all the rest of the village, and his advice is always followed.
The method of observing the sun described above is universal among the Kenyahs, but some of the Kayans practise a different method. A hole is made in the roof of the weather-prophet's chamber in the long-house, and the alt.i.tude of the mid-day sun and its direction, north or south of the meridian, are observed by measuring along a plank fixed on the floor the distance of the patch of sunlight (falling through the hole on to the plank) from the point vertically below the hole. The horizontal position of the plank is secured by placing upon it smooth spherical stones and noting any inclination to roll. The sunbeam which enters this hole is called KLEPUT TOH (=the blow-pipe of the spirit).
Some of the Klemantans practise a third method to determine when the time for sowing is at hand, using a bamboo some feet in length which bears a mark at a level which is empirically determined. The bamboo is filled with water while in the vertical position. It is then tilted till it points towards a certain star, when of course some water escapes. After it has been restored to the vertical, the level of the surface of the remaining water is noted. The coincidence of this level with the mark mentioned above indicates that the time for sowing is come.
The Sea Dayaks are guided by the observation of the position of the Pleiades.
The appropriate season having been determined, it is necessary to secure good omens before the preparation of the land can be begun. A pig and a fowl having been sacrificed in the usual way, and their blood sprinkled upon the wooden figures before the house,[46] two men are sent out in a boat, and where they first see a spider-hunter they land on the bank and go through the customary procedures. The calls and appearances of various birds and of the MUNTJAC are of chief importance. Some of these are good, some bad in various degrees. When a preponderance of favourable omens has been observed, the men return to the house to announce their success. They will wait two whole days if necessary to secure a favourable result. During their absence a strict MALAN or LALI (tabu) lies upon the house; no stranger may enter it, and the people sit quietly in the house performing only the most necessary tasks. The announcement of the nature of the omens observed is made to the chief in the presence of a deeply interested throng of both s.e.xes. If the omens observed are considered to be bad, or of doubtful import, the men go out for a second period; but if they are favourable, the women of each room perform the private rites over their stores of seed PADI, which are kept in their rooms. After the pros and cons have been fully discussed, the chief names the day for the beginning of the clearing operations.
At the beginning of the sowing the house is again subject to MALAN for one day. During the growth of the PADI various charms and superst.i.tious practices are brought into use to promote its growth and health, and to keep the pests from it. The PADI charms are a miscellaneous collection or bundle of small articles, such as curious pebbles and bits of wood, pigs' tusks of unusual size or shape, beads, feathers, crystals of quartz. Kayans as a rule object to pebbles and stones as charms. Such charms are generally acquired in the first instance through indications afforded by dreams, and are handed down from mother to daughter. Such charms contained in a basket are usually kept in a PADI barn, from which they are taken to the field by the woman and waved over it, usually with a live fowl in the hand, while she addresses the PADI seed in some such terms as the following: ”May you have a good stem and a good top, let all parts of you grow in harmony, etc. etc.” Then she rapidly repeats a long customary formula of exhortation to the pests, saying, ”O rats, run away down river, don't trouble us; O sparrows and noxious insects, go feed on the PADI of the people down river.” If the pests are very persistent, the woman may kill a fowl and scatter its blood over the growing PADI, while she charges the pests to disappear, and calls upon LAKI IVONG (the G.o.d of harvests) to drive them out.
Women alone will gather the first ears of the crop. If they encounter on their way to the fields any one of the following creatures, they must at once return home, and stay there a day and a night, on pain of illness or early death: certain snakes, spiders, centipedes, millipedes, and birds of two species, JERUIT and BUBUT (a cuckoo). Or again, if the shoulder straps of their large baskets should break on the way, if a stump should fall against them, or the note of the spider-hunter be heard, or if a woman strikes her foot by accident against any object, the party must return as before.
It will be clear from the foregoing account that the women play the princ.i.p.al part in the rites and actual operations of the PADI culture; the men only being called in to clear the ground and to a.s.sist in some of the later stages. The women select and keep the seed grain, and they are the repositories of most of the lore connected with it. It seems to be felt that they have a natural affinity to the fruitful grain, which they speak of as becoming pregnant. Women sometimes sleep out in the PADI fields while the crop is growing, probably for the purpose of increasing their own fertility or that of the PADI; but they are very reticent on this matter.
The Harvest Festival
When the crop is all gathered in, the house is MALAN to all outsiders for some ten days, during which the grain is transported from the fields to the village and stored in the PADI barns. When this process is completed or well advanced, the festival begins with the preparation of the seed grain for the following season. Some of the best of the new grain is carefully selected by the women of each room, enough for the sowing of the next season. This is mixed with a small quant.i.ty of the seed grain of the foregoing seasons which has been carefully preserved for this purpose in a special basket. The basket contains grains of PADI from good harvests of many previous years. This is supposed to have been done from the earliest time of PADI planting, so that the basket contains some of the original stock of seed, or at least the virtue of it leavening the whole. This basket is never emptied, but a pinch of the old PADI is mixed in with the new, and then a handful of the mixture added to the old stock. The idea here seems to be that the old grain, preserving continuity generation after generation with the original seed PADI of mythical origin,[47] ensures the presence in the grain of the soul or spirit or vital principle of PADI. While mixing the old with the new seed grain, the woman calls on the soul of the PADI to cause the seed to be fruitful and to grow vigorously, and to favour her own fertility. For the whole festival is a celebration or cult of the principle of fertility and vitality -- that of the women no less than that of the PADI.[48]
The women who have been delivered of children during the past year will make a number of toys, consisting of plaited work, in the shapes of various animals filled with boiled rice (Fig. 16). These they throw to the children of the house, who scramble for them in the gallery. This seems to be of the nature of a thank-offering.
At this time also another curious custom is observed. Four water beetles, of the kind that skates on the surface of the still water, are caught on the river and placed on water in a large gong. Some old man specially wise in this matter watches the beetles, calling to them to direct their movements. The people crowd round deeply interested, while the old man interprets the movements of the beetles as forecasting good or ill luck with the crops of the following season, and invokes the good-will of Laki Ivong. Laki Ivong is asked to bring the soul of the PADI to their homes. Juice from a sugarcane is poured upon the water, and the women drink the water, while the beetles are carefully returned to the river. The beetles carry the messages to Laki Ivong.
When these observances have been duly honoured, there begins a scene of boisterous fun. The women make pads of the boiled sticky new rice, and cover it with soot from their cooking vessels. With these they approach the men and dab the pads upon their faces and bodies, leaving sooty marks that are not easily removed. The men thus challenged give chase, and attempt to get possession of the rice pads and to return the polite attention. For a short s.p.a.ce of time a certain license prevails among the young people; and irregularities, even on the part of married people, which would be gravely reprobated at all other times, are looked upon very much less seriously. It is, in fact, the annual carnival. Each roomhold has prepared a stock of BURAK from the new rice, and this now circulates freely among both men and women, and large meals of rice and pork are usually eaten. All join in dancing, some of the women dressed like men, some carrying PADI-pestles; at one moment all form a long line marching up and down the gallery in step to the strains of the KELURI; some young men dance in realistic imitation of monkeys (DOK), or hornbills, or other animals, singly or in couples. Others mimic the peculiarities of their acquaintances. The women also dance together in a long line, each resting her hands on the shoulders of the one going before her, and all keeping time to the music of the KELURIES as they dance up and down the long gallery. All this is kept up with good humour the whole day long. In the evening more BURAK is drunk and songs are sung, the women mingling with the men, instead of remaining in their rooms as on other festive occasions. Before midnight a good many of the men are more or less intoxicated, some deeply so; but most are able to find their way to bed about midnight, and few or none become offensive or quarrelsome, even though the men indulge in wrestling and rough horseplay with one another. After an exceptionally good harvest the boisterous merry-making is renewed on a second or even a third day.
The harvest festival is the time at which dancing is most practised. The dances fall into two chief cla.s.ses, namely, solo dances and those in which many persons take part. Most of the solo dances take the form of comic imitations of the movements of animals, especially the big macaque monkey (DOK), the hornbill, and big fish. These dances .seem to have no connection with magic or religion, but to be purely aesthetic entertainments. The animals that are regarded with most awe are never mimicked in this way. There are at least four distinct group dances popular among the Kayans. Both men and women take part, the women often dressing themselves as men for the occasion (Pl. 61). The movements and evolutions are very simple. The LUPA resembles the dance on return from war described in Chap. X. In the KAYO, a similar dance, the dancers are led by a woman holding one of the dried heads which is taken down for the purpose; the women, dressed in war-coats, pretending to take the head from an enemy. The LAKEKUT Is a musical drill in which the dancers stamp on the planks of the floor in time to the music. The LUPAK is a kind of slow polka. In none of these do the dancers fall into couples. A fifth dance, the dance of the departure of the spirit, is a dramatic representation by three persons of the death of one of them, and of his restoration to life by means of the water of life (this is supposed to be brought from the country which is traversed on the journey to the land of shades). This dance is sometimes given with so much dramatic effect as to move the onlookers to tears.
CHAPTER 7
The Daily Life of a Kayan Long House
A little before dawn the c.o.c.ks roosting beneath the house awaken the household by their crowing and the flapping of their wings. The pigs begin to grunt and squeal, and the dogs begin to trot to and fro in the gallery. Before the first streaks of daylight appear, the women light the fires in the private rooms or blow up the smouldering embers; then most of them descend from the house, each carrying in a basket slung on her back several bamboo water-vessels to be filled from the river. Many of them bathe at this time in the shallow water beside the bank, while the toilet of others consists in das.h.i.+ng water over their faces, was.h.i.+ng their mouths with water, and rubbing their teeth with the forefinger. Returning to the house with their loads of water (Pl. 63), they boil rice for the household breakfasts and for the dinner of those who are to spend the day in the PADI field or the jungle. The boiled rice intended for the latter use is made up in packets wrapped in green leaves, each containing sufficient for a meal for one person. About half-past six, when the daylight is fully come, the pigs expectant of their meal are clamouring loudly for it. The women descend to them by ladders leading from the private rooms, and each gives to the pigs of her household the leavings of the meals of the previous day. About the same time the men begin to bestir themselves sluggishly; some descend to bathe, while others smoke the f.a.g ends of the cigarettes that were unfinished when they fell asleep. Then the men breakfast in their rooms, and not until they are satisfied do the women and children sit down to their meal. During all this time the chronically hungry dogs, attracted by the odours of food, make persistent efforts to get into their owner's rooms. Success in this manoeuvre is almostly always followed by their sudden and noisy reappearance in the gallery, caused by a smart blow with a stick. In the busy farming season parties of men, women, and children will set off in boats for the PADI fields taking their breakfasts with them.
After breakfast the men disperse to their various tasks. During some three or four months of the year all able-bodied persons repair daily to the PADI fields, but during the rest of the year their employments are more varied. The old women and invalids remain all day long in the rooms; the old men lounge all day in the gallery, smoking many home-made cigarettes, and perhaps doing a bit of carving or other light work and keeping an eye on the children. The young children play in and out and about the house, chasing the animals, and dabbling among the boats moored at the bank.
A few of the able-bodied men employ themselves in or about the house, making boats, forging swords, spear-heads, iron hoes, and axes, repairing weapons or implements. Others go in small parties to the jungle to hunt deer and pig, or to gather jungle produce -- fruits, rubber, rattans, or bamboos -- or spend the day in fis.h.i.+ng in the river. During the months of December and January the jungle fruits -- the durian, rambutan, mangosteen, lansat, mango, and numerous small sour fruits (Pl. 65) -- are much more abundant than at other times; and during these months all other work is neglected, while the people devote themselves to gathering the fruit which forms for a time almost their only food.
Except during the busy PADI season the work of the women is wholly within the house. The heaviest part of their household labour is the preparation of the rice. After breakfast they proceed to spread out PADI on mats on the open platforms adjoining the gallery. While the PADI is being dried by the exposure to sun and wind on these platforms, it must be protected from the domestic fowls by a guardian who, sitting in the gallery, drives them away by means of a long bamboo slung by a cord above the platform. Others fill the time between breakfast and the noonday dinner by bathing themselves and the children in the river, making and repairing clothing, mats, and baskets, fetching more water, cleaning the rooms and preparing dinner. This meal consists of boiled rice with perhaps a piece of fish, pork, or fowl, and, like breakfast and supper, is eaten in the private rooms.
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