After arriving on the oddly shaped island of Sulawesi, Indonesia Brad and I immediately headed to the bus terminal of Makassar to set out for Rantepao, located in the middle of the Tana Toraja area. Visiting the region of Tana Toraja was the main reason we’d decided to come to Sulawesi. Having read about the Torajans’ obsession with death, we were eager to see for ourselves what really went on at a Torajan funeral.
We rode eight hours in a cramped car with a puking baby and four smokers, but the scenery was beautiful. The last three hours of the ride took us up winding mountain roads with amazing views and the nearer we came to Tana Toraja, the more my excitement grew. Upon entering the region, I immediately saw the traditional houses the Torajans are famed for. The roof slopes up on either end, resembling the horns of a buffalo. Many of the homes also have several rice barns nearby with the same style of roof. Seeing the several of the roofs grouped together makes for an impressive sight.
We were dropped off at Pia’s Poppies Hotel where we ditched our bags and sought out some food. After talking to some of the other tourists staying there, we discovered that there was a funeral beginning the following day. We couldn’t believe our luck! Tour guides approached us and offered to take us, but the price seemed too high. We decided to try our luck in the morning.
Over breakfast, I mentioned to Brad that I couldn’t believe we hadn’t been approached by a guide yet. Another tourist chimed in that she was shocked as well. I asked the young couple next to us if they had made arrangements already, hoping we could cut the cost by sharing. They said that they had booked a car, but they’d be more than willing to share in order to save money. After haggling a bit with the guide and driver, we finally settled on a price. We finished breakfast and headed out for a day of exploring death.
Our first stop was Lemo. Although we’d seen photos and read several articles about the area, we were still overwhelmed. The limestone rock face towers approximately 60 feet high, and has dozens of burial caves, some over 300 years old, carved into it. The first thing you notice when you see the rock face is that you are being watched. Balconies have been carved out in front of the burial caves for the upper class. Protective tau tau, or wooden effigies, are placed on these balconies to ward off thieves and evil spirits as well as to accept gifts from family members and pass on blessings. The tau tau are quite a sight, as they are all intricately carved and even dressed in real clothes. They emit a feeling of eeriness, as if saying “Don’t even think about messing with my bones.” Walking around the rock face, we saw bones on the ground with a bag hung next to them. After asking our guide why the bones were on the ground, he explained that each cave houses an entire family. They are neatly arranged in a circle. When there is no more room, the oldest skeleton and its belongings are removed, hence the skull and bagful of rotting clothes.
A close-up of the tau tau at Lemo.
The day continued to get stranger as we headed from here to a funeral. We drove as far as possible, but thanks to the heavy rain the night before, we had to ditch our mini-SUV and hoof it through the mud for about a kilometer. Upon arrival at the funeral ceremony, the first thing I noticed was all of the animals that had been brought for sacrifice. You couldn’t take more than four steps without having to step over a tied-up pig. And, watch out for that buffalo that’s backing up because he isn’t watching out for you!
We sat down in a covered room specially constructed to house the funeral guests. We passed on a carton of cigarettes that we brought as a gift to the family. The carton was opened and cigarettes were passed around among the guests. We were given tea or coffee as well as some traditional Torajan cake. The children around us were busily licking ice cream cones. It all felt very welcoming and merry. Then, our guide told us the buffalo sacrifice would soon be taking place. After the sacrifice of the first buffalo, the spirit would finally be released from the body and move on to the afterlife. Brad leapt to his feet with the camera as I deliberated whether I wanted to watch an animal be sacrificed or not. After a few minutes, I decided that when at a Torajan funeral it’s best to get the full experience.
We watched as buffalo were pranced up and down, listening to the hoots and hollers of the boys and men that were leading them. The funeral emcee was jabbering away in Bahasa Indonesia and the crowd was getting excited. Pigs were squealing in the background when suddenly a group of about ten women began to pound bamboo poles into wood, creating the perfect soundtrack for a sacrifice. ‘Which buffalo would it be?’ we wondered, ‘How would it happen; a slit to the throat, perhaps?’ Unexpectedly, an albino buffalo was brought down a hill from behind the house. “It’s the crazy buffalo,” our guide told me. I couldn’t really see what was going on as I was on the wrong side of the house and then, just like that *snap*, it was all over (for the buffalo). We’d missed it. The procession began shortly after the sacrifice. The body of the deceased (which had been placed in a beautifully painted coffin that looks like a miniature Torajan house) was carried and then hoisted up a bamboo ladder to the top of a tower. Here it would remain here for the next four days (the length of a traditional Torajan funeral) before it was lowered back down and taken to its final resting place. There, the coffin would be placed nearby and simply left to rot away as it is taboo to reuse any of the bamboo that was used during a funeral.
We felt we’d seen enough of the funeral, so we headed back to the car and went for a quick lunch. I had tomato soup, yum! We then went to Kambira for a further exploration of death. Here we followed a staircase down to a sacred tree. This tree is the final resting place for babies that are less than ten months old. The locals believe that the soul is still pure at this age because the baby has not developed teeth and therefore cannot speak any evil. After dying, the baby’s body is entombed in the living tree. The tree must be living as it is believed that the spirit of the growing tree will help the spirit of the young baby to continue to grow. Our guide told us that with the spread of Christianity, the people of Kambira no longer practice this. The last time a baby was housed in the tree was more than 30 years ago.
We had one more destination to go, and it was the one I was most excited about seeing, the village of Londa. We walked down a path which awarded us with a great view of the cave graves we were preparing to investigate. We arranged for a local guide to meet us at the cave’s entrance with a gas lantern so we could go inside the cave and see the numerous coffins that waited. As we got closer to the cave, we noticed that there were quite a few of coffins outside as well. Tau tau lined up above the entrance to the cave and peered down at us as we stood amazed at the sights before us. We were greeted not only by the tau tau, but also by several skulls resting upon coffins and rocks. All of this, and we hadn’t even entered the cave!
Our guide lit his lantern and motioned for us to follow him inside. Coffins lined the walls and rested precariously on edges. Empty eye sockets gazed from every crevice and corner. We walked in further, stepping on rocks as wells as the remnants of bones. Suddenly, the cave seemed to end. Before we had the chance to turn around, our guide motioned toward a hole. “Okay?” he asked. We shrugged and looked at one another apprehensively, as the hole was very small and would require crawling on all fours to enter. We nodded in uncertainty and I replied meekly, “Okay.” I removed my backpack, realizing that I would have to push it along in front of myself as I crawled. After crawling uncomfortably for about ten minutes, we reached the end of the tunnel. As I stood up and looked around, my breath was taken away. I felt as though I’d crawled through to a different world, one that resembled set of a Hollywood action movie (maybe a new Indiana Jones, or possibly even Tomb Raider). Skulls lined every edge and shelf of the cave. Rotting coffins were scattered around, some of them left open exposing the tattered clothes that barely covered what remained. Leg and arm bones decorated the floor. Eerie? Yes. Exciting? Yes!
In the end, Tana Toraja was all we expected and more. After spending an entire day on death, we opted to relax and enjoy the scenery for a while. We spent our remaining days in the area strolling through neighboring villages, drinking tuak (palm wine) with the locals while we waited out the rain, and enjoying great views of rice terraces from our homestay in the northern region. It is a truly beautiful area, full of friendly and welcoming people. We felt we could’ve stayed for longer, but with our visa clock running (only 60 days in Indonesia, and at a high price), we opted to move on. Besides, we had the lovely Togian Islands to look forward to….
