Mentawai - Eternal Identity and the Forest Primeval

The remote forest in the depths of Siberut National Park in the Mentawai Islands holds tales of a society that firmly upholds its culture.

We started our journey with a ten-hour crossing of the Mentawai Strait from the fishing port of Bungus (near Teluk Bayur) in a wooden ship crammed with foreign tourists. I felt the ship being pounded by rolling waves, which seemed to be headed for Muara Siberut, considered one of the world’s ten best surfing locations.

It was six in the morning when we landed, yet the dock area was teeming with car and motorcycle services all seeking to take the tourists to Simalepek village, a commercial center with many government offices and also the gateway to Dorogog village and the small islands for surfing.

I then traveled by motorboat another hour and a half to Dorogog, heading toward the home of Pak Koki, or Sikerei (term of address for the head of a household), and began to sense the exotic lifestyle of the people of Mentawai.

From the distance, we could see a number of people waving and shouting “Alai loita, alai loita!”, the Mentawai words for “welcome.” The local people’s joy was evident as the small children escorted me to an uma, or Mentawai house.

Inside the uma, the aroma of tobacco smoke was intense. The interior was decorated with ape and pig skulls, as we see in most uma. I made out the silhouette of an old man sitting with a hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his lips. He smiled and waved to me.

“Alai loita, alai loita,” he said.

This was Sikerei, whom I’d come to meet; he’s nearly 80 years old and is believed to have shamanic powers to mediate between his family members and the spirits of their ancestors.

Pak Koki had a son, who died before he was able to pass on the position of Sikerei to him.

Given this situation, in the end Pak Koki remained his family’s Sikerei. To be a Sikerei, one must follow certain traditional restrictions that seem odd to outsiders, such as a taboo on eating eels. But he has abided by these taboos – proof of his loyalty to the traditional ways and the teachings passed down from the ancestors.

In the evening, Sikerei sang a song in the Mentawai language, accompanied by the nighttime sounds of the forest. There was no electricity; the only light came from a Petromax kerosene lamp given to them by a tourist.

I joined the family gathered in the fading light of the Petromax lamp. Sikerei started to tell about the tattoos that cover the bodies of the Mentawai people. Each stroke in the designs has its own meaning, signaling identity and serving as eternal clothing that they take into the unseen world. The tattooing process is sacred and full of pain. Sikerei told about his own experience when his body was tattooed.

“This many many aww.....blood blood and many, many cry,” he said, trying to explain in English, though it took me some time to make out what he was saying.

Most young Mentawai nowadays no longer want to get their bodies tattooed like Sikerei’s generation did; they cite the extraordinary pain, but the influence of outside modern culture is no doubt also a factor.

In the morning, as the dawn peeked through the branches outside the uma, Sikerei strode toward the forest with a parang in his hand. An hour later, he returned, carrying a section of sago tree nearly the size of his body. Amazing. Though far from young, he still engages in such activities every morning. Meanwhile, his wife was fishing in the river near the house. In Mentawai culture, the task of seeking food from the river, such as fish, shrimp and shellfish, falls to the women, while the men are responsible for hunting and gathering in the forest.

I had been told that there were several waterfalls in the forest; one is Kulukubuk, at Madobag village. The only way to get there is to trek through the forest. The terrain was beyond my expectations: hills, valleys, rivers, thorny underbrush and muddy trails.

The next day, we returned to Dorogog village. Sikerei had prepared something the Mentawai are very proud of: hunting poison, made from various plants and smeared on an arrowhead, then heated over a small flame. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to see it being used; there were no apes or other prey to be hunted, because the right time for hunting is morning. But instead, kind Sikerei taught us how to shoot a bow and arrow. Neither I nor any of my friends were able to do it right. It looks easy, but it requires special expertise, and a great deal of strength when you pull the bowstring.

The evening was full of typical Mentawai exoticism. Sikerei invited some friends over to dance the Turuk, a sacred dance the Mentawai people perform for healing. So sacred is this dance that every dancer must be dressed in a kain (wraparound waistcloth). Accompanied by a simple rhythm, they performed various Turuk movements, symbolizing the movements of birds and of snakes. And then Sikerei took my hand and had me join them in the dance.

After dancing, we gathered again with Sikerei’s entire family and told them about our experience the previous day going to the waterfall. In the midst of our conversation, Sikerei suddenly gave me an unforgettable present: a Mentawai name. He gave me the name Laisan Nun, “the sweet one”. Masura bagata (thank you), I said to myself.

Getting to Mentawai
Garuda Indonesia flies the Jakarta-Padang-Jakarta route 21 times per week.
From Minangkabau international airport, proceed 45 minutes to Bungus harbor to take the ferry.

The Mentawai Islands lie within the province of West Sumatra and consist of 213 islands; the four major islands are Siberut, Sipora, Pagai Utara, and Pagai Selatan. Dorogog village is on Siberut Island.