Sunday 18th August
A day of rest
for Pete and me.
So are so
good! I think every single person on Sumba
goes to church. They are mostly
Christian, divided between the Catholic and the Protectant Christian Church –
so defined by our Sumbanese friends. Not
sure of the proportion of Muslims – maybe 10%?
These more modern religions seem to slot in quite well with more ancient
animism.
In the outlying
areas every single house has a well-kept tomb.
Some are just basic concrete, large and unadorned, but many are tiled
and gleaming. The older tombs provide a
lovely place for children to hide, play, display ikat weavings…
You may notice
that they are casually sitting on a very old carved stone crocodile…
In the midst of
life we are in death…I don’t have a photo of a new, tiled tomb (yet!) but Pete
pointed out to me that at least one of them almost completely blocked access to
the front door. He said, “Well it would
make a nice place to sit, with your cup of tea, to remember your old dead
auntie, but otherwise, it is all very awkward, isn’t it?”
So how did we
go with our gala dinner?? Our darling
Sumbanese friends were very worried about the whole thing. They were out at 2XS and Marieke III t 6pm to
wake us up, chivvy us along, although the arrangement was for us to meet at the
wharf at 6.30. They weren’t sure how
long it would take to squeeze the four oldcodgers into their costumes…
(And yes I know
they regard as us quite ancient and venerable… Odie, from the Northern Regency,
came to see us yesterday. We had met him
in Kupang – he was very keen to promote Sumba to the rally. He looked at Seija and me with deep concern,
and said, “How are you finding all of this?
It is a lot to cope with, for people of your age.” Seija and I muttered a bit and looked at the
ground, not sure how to respond to this – ahem – kindness…)
It didn’t take
very long at all before, there before our astonished eyes were:
Imbu Peter and
Rambu Marguerite:
Imbu Ingvar and
Rambu Seija
Ingvar derived
vast amusement from the fact that Seija and I were designated as Rambu. “Have you seen the movie?” he asked various
young people as they bustled past with pins, string, ribbons.
Seija and I did
like our costumes very much. I am a
total princess, however, and I found it very uncomfortable having a tight piece
of string tied around my chest, under my armpits, to stop the whole creation
from falling to the ground. Seija was
much more stoical and she didn’t complain at all, whereas I whinged away
quietly to Pete, intermittently, though the evening because I found it very
hard to get enough breath into my lungs.
Imbu Pete and
Imbu Ingvar thought they looked total wallies but in fact they looked exactly
like all the other older men at the dinner, only paler.
And in fact
they looked quite splendid! All of this
ikat material is very beautiful but – strangely, for such a hot climate – it is
very heavy and both Seija and I abandoned any thought of wearing t-shirts under
our beautiful (thick! folded!)
sarongs. Pete wore his new –shirt, a
present from lovely Deci, who works for the department of tourism. She had told me she would be SO happy to see
Pete wearing this t-shirt… He was a bit worried that it looked just slightly
incongruous – bright blue and white with a FACEBOOK logo – but indeed Deci was
wreathed in smiles, and told us it had made her day, to see Pete wearing her
gift.
We had
front-row seats at the side of the stage, as guests of honour, and there are
now many thousands of photos of the four of us, dressed as Imbu and Rambu.
There were
speeches…very long ones. Two speeches by
local politicians, totally incomprehensible except for a smattering of English
phrases. Trickle down
effect…competition…wisdom in education.
Eventually,
towards 10.00, it was our turn to take centre stage…
We were
presented with extravagant gifts – ikat sarongs and sashes for the Rambus, ikat
cloths for the Imbus. And MANY more
photos were taken…
Immanuel took
charge of my camera and took – I am NOT kidding! – thirty two photos of all of
us…The above is just one of them…And many MANY more were taken by the
paparazzi…
It was not all
speeches. There was a bit (not enough…)
of dancing.
And a choir or
two…one from a local church, and the other – The Wives of Civil Servants
Choir. I was totally enchanted with this
concept. It sounded very much like the title of a quirky novel. And no I am not going to write it; I am quite
happy just reporting the existence of The Wives of Civil Servants Choir.
Below - Pete, Sam, Immanuel:
Our lovely friends
were very worried about the speeches.
They had asked Pete to make one on behalf of the Sail Komodo fleet. Seija, Ingvar and I knew he was well up to
the task, but poor Sam, Steve, Ariz, Immanuel et al kept kneeling at his side, whispering
urgent instructions throughout the evening.
Pete actually couldn’t hear them at all – we had the pleasure of being
seated right next to the huge amplifiers – so he nodded and smiled in a genial,
reassuring fashion until it was his turn to step up to the microphone, with our
lovely Sam as interpreter:
Well Our Pete
did the Sail Komodo fleet, and Tasmania proud.
He spoke slowly and clearly, giving Sam plenty of time to
translate. He was able to acknowledge
the front row of VIPS – Pa Bupati ( the head of government in this Regency,)
the Chief of Police, the Commander of the Army and of the Navy. They were all wreathed in smiles, as were Our
Team – Sam, Steve, Deci, Immanuel, Ariz, Alex…
Pete managed,
very cleverly, to convey our deep gratitude for the generosity and hospitality
of the people of Sumba and also to indicate that really, there was no need for
any more than our two boats to be there.
Marieke II, from Sweden, represents the Northern Hemisphere, while 2XS,
from Tasmania, represents the entire South.
We will, he assured the rapt crowd, convey to our friends, family and
the Internet, how lovely Sumba is, how interesting the region, how hospitable
the people.
As indeed we
will!
Eventually –
well after ten – it was time to eat. I
think there were at least 1,000 people in attendance. There was a vast choice of food from many
different parts of Indonesia. And each
tent had a huge and hungry crowd… We were ushered towards the prize area –
“Come and line up for pig!” said my
protector, Immanuel, who has adopted my as his Other Mother. Pete, Seija and Ingvar were keen for the pig
but I fell back… There were many things I would prefer…but the crowd was SO
huge, the queues so thick… I wandered around in a bit of a daze and then there
was poor Immanuel at my elbow. He will
sleep well when we have left; he worries SO much about my welfare. “BE CAREFUL, Mum!” (hati-hati…)
is his catch-cry… I think he sees me as on the verge of stumbling, falling,
breaking limbs, wandering off and getting lost, falling out of the dinghy…
He shepherd me
towards a Javanese stall, with fish and I had the most delicious meal of all of
the Komodo Crowd – an aromatic little tomato salad, some aragula, and two sorts
of…ummm…tuna mornay with the most wonderful spices. With rice (nasi.)
My last photo
for toady is of our delightful friend Ariz, looking so very nice in his trad
clothes. He doesn’t tie his up with bits
of string, like Umbu Pete and Umbu Ingvar.
He has a nifty thick leather belt, with pockets for his hi-tech gizmos…
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