We originally wanted to spend the end of Ramadan, Idul Fitri, on Bali not to suffer from the transportation and accommodation reservations issues. Bali being mostly Hindu, it would have been quiet. But guess why, Ben has searched and found a cheap flight ticket from Banuywangi (our current city close to the Ijen Volcano) to Sulawesi, Makassar. Happy with our find, we embark thinking that it is also the perfect opportunity to go to the immigration office of Makassar in order to extend our visa (30 additional days). Well yes but now, it’s not that simple when we make decisions contradictory with a thoughtful idea for weeks…
From Makassar to Bira, first steps in South Sulawesi
Makassar is one of the largest cities in Indonesia, and it feels. Concrete, crowd, and noise, its charms are quite discreet. So we decide to make it quick and go directly to the immigration office… Ah, but it’s closed still during during ten days for the holidays related to the end of Ramadan precisely… Well, here we have to admit that we feel bad because our visa expires in two weeks and it’s going to be short on deadline (we are also quite mad with the Jakarta border police for their very poor advice). No problem, we have to spend a good week in Toraja… Ah, but the bus companies are on vacation too! It starts to be a less and less fun finding this cheap plane ticket.
Finally, following the advice of a friend who came here a few years ago, we decide to go to Bira. It is a seaside resort popular with locals and known only vy Westerners for its diving spots. We agree, there is much worse as plan B (or C, or D if we count well). 150 kilometers and 5 hours away (no mountain, only half of the inhabitants of Indonesia, if not more, who come back home to celebrate the Idul Fitri), we discover a small town at the end of the world. Bira is located on a cape and its economy is based on two things, the construction of fishing boats and tourism. But this is another tourism that we had seen so far. Slightly well-off Indonesians come to enjoy the seaside, discover some water sports, and more generally spend without counting during the few days they grant themselves. The little town is boiling as soon as night falls. It’s charming but we decided to stay as often a little away (photo shoots due to our white skin are nice, but it also a little tiring in the long run).
We spend our four days in a small complex along a beach a few kilometers from the center. Swimming, diving, napping, painting, reading, we take advantage of this time to recover from our last days pretty dense on Java. And then the roommate with a family of geckos in our bungalow was pretty cool. The mother (about the size of a little cat), having laid some twenty eggs in a corner, kept a close watch on our comings and goings.
The beach is good, but soon we will have the opportunity to enjoy it, and not the ugliest (you will hate us by the end of summer that’s for sure). So we decide to hit the road to the Toraja land now that the buses are operational again (after 150 km in 5 hours and a hook by Makassar, otherwise it’s not funny).
The Toraja land, intense discoveries
It takes us ten hours of bus (potentially by night) to reach Makassar Rantepao, the capital of the Toraja land, north of the south (and not the reverse) of Sulawesi. For those of you who do not know this region of Indonesia you are in the good post, we will explain all about it. For others, stay still, it will be nice. The trip is better for us than for the dutch couple on the other side of the corridor. They are stripped of their wallets during the night while their bag was at their feet, padlocked. The police will inform them that our bus company, advised by the Lonely Planet, is several times a week the target of this type of theft, on this specific route. They are the third in five days to complain about it. We arrive with a good star above us, it will definitely be nice!
Toraja land for dummies. The Toraja are a people very attached to their customs and traditions, Christianized a few centuries ago by the Dutch colonists, and living in the green mountains of the heart of Sulawesi. They mainly grow rice and coffee. But if they are known it is a little for their little horned houses, and especially for the place that holds the death rituals in their community. In fact, death is for them only a non-definitive event and does not mean that the deceased leaves his family. Also, to celebrate its passage to the afterlife, the family organizes funerals that can be for a certain extend very impressive by the number of guests (it is considered as the main tourist attraction of the region, yes yes). So that the maximum number of guests can attend the funeral, the family may have to keep the deceased embalmed for several months, the time to prepare the festivities (often during the holidays around Christmas or Idul Fitri). A first thrill in the back? The first day of the ceremony (it can last three days) the guests offer the family (or the deceased himself) gifts. From the pack of cigarettes to the buffalo to the kilo of sugar or pigs. The cigarettes will be smoked later (or dropped off in the coffin with the dead), but first priority, sacrifice the pigs. It’s noisy, bloody, fragrant, in short, it’s impressive.
Second day is the apotheosis. The offered buffaloes are sacrificed one by one (or just half otherwise it’s probably too much for the butcher). We decided not to attend this part (we go back further), but for what we understand it is not pretty. Some beasts agonize a bit before finally collapsing on their predecessors. Still there ? A small glass of water? Once the problem of the offerings has been settled, the deceased is carried to his grave. The Toraja did not bury their dead. The coffins are introduced into vaults dug into the cliffs where rocks dotting the area. A statuette about one meter in the effigy of the dead is given to the family so that he continues to share their daily lives in the home. You were told, it was intense.
The third day, a little bonus of which we do not have the exact meaning except the entertainment of the living (the dead one is already in his rock normally): the fight of buffaloes. Again, we did not go there. It seems that it does not end very well for at least one of the two animals. It’s good, it’s over, you can blow.
As we told you, we did not attend a ceremony in its entirety. The reason is simple and we were comforted in our choice by a local guide at the end of our stay on site. Funeral ceremonies play an extremely important role in Toraja society. The size of these formerly depended on the caste of the deceased, his power, his rank. The most important in the society the deceased is, the more grandiose the festivities were, and the more sacrifices (a specific number corresponding to the caste). But Indonesia has, like any other country, slipped into the market economy and monetary wealth is now completely decorrelated from the caste. Rich families therefore offer large funerals to their dead, and many, many animals are sacrificed. The Toraja are even forced to import their buffaloes from the other islands of Indonesia. The value of the most expensive (mid albino) can reach tens of thousands of euros (remember that the average salary is 300 euros monthly). This debauch of money and the bloody frenzy of the wealthy middle classes is palpable. We were invited several times a day to attend buffalo sacrifices, with a smile to the ears. Of course we respect all these traditions, but we can not help being uncomfortable in the middle of all this.
We discovered all this during our week of cultural change in intravenous. Of course, we did not hesitate a second and… rent a scooter! You are starting to know us now. Leaving the funeral aside, we were able to drive through the green mountains of the region, always greeted by smiles, a presentation of the family, or even a small local cafe. Finally a region that produces and knows how to drink coffee! The local gastronomy is not perfect but we do not eat too badly. Ben even has the chance to discover new flavors in a small boui boui in the countryside. By dint of being clever and always accept what people put on their plate, this one ended up eating dog! Do not worry, just a little bit, time to ask the boss “it’s good, what is it?”. The discomfort on his face caused laughter among the two policemen on lunch break next to us. To be fair game, they offer Ben a glass of palm alcohol. If you’ve never tasted, imagine vinegar and lighter fluid with a hint of cow’s milk. What a successful meal!
We came to Toraja land attracted by the cultural specificities of this people. But it’s the landscapes that will leave us wanting to come back. Mountains covered with forests and rice terraces, dotted with villages with atypical houses and interconnected by winding small roads. A treat for the chickens!
It’s time for us to take some fresh air and change island. After a quick passage through Makassar and the immigration office (well, we have our visa!), We fly to Bali. The same country, but a different culture. Finally, all of this you will read it in the next article about the chickens around the world.
See you soon,
Audrey and Ben
Nice blog guys 👍 and beautiful pics hope you’re well and looking forward to the next blog☺ hugs and kisses 😚
Thank you! Everything is going perfectly for us in the Pacific Ocean islands. Stay tuned for upcoming posts 😉