Back to the Uma

When I close my eyes I am back in the Uma, trying to sleep on my slowly deflating air mattress, under rows of monkey skulls, surrounded by sounds. 

It is not just the expected jungle orchestra of cicadas keeping me awake; I’m listening to the rhythmic chanting of the kerei - shamans, sharing knowledge and songs in the patio adjacent to the area we sleep in. But here in Teu Reppa’s Uma in Attabai, even more is in the air. The animals know it too, as you can hear in the roaring groans of the big black bulls in the clearing around the house, the occasional cry of a pig or the cock-a-doodle-doo from the roosters that never quieten. 

Amanipai, in his element (as always)

After I came home from my stay in Siberut Island, I was straight away plunged into the madness of modern life. A school event, my son’s birthday party, things to arrange and deadlines to meet. Those two worlds are so different I struggled to collect my words. But slowly the world I left behind off the coast of Sumatra seeps back into my mind. How can I learn from the things I saw there? How can I get back that feeling of peace, of being one with the world? That feeling that what we have is enough, in fact much more than enough. That we need to simplify our lives. I gave away half the clothes I carried but I still felt embarrassed about the size of my backpack that my porter – teenage girl Toktak, lugged back out of the jungle for me. I gave her my cap. 

Teu Reppa (right) with me and his wife Goreng

Toktak and I

Our guide Amanipai carried the tiniest of string-bags for his ten days with us, the biggest thing he lugged along being his pouch of tobacco tied on top of his loincloth. The Mentawai people smoke – a lot! 

Bai-Ipai (Aman-ipai's wife) during a fishing trip

Bai-Ipai and I

Let’s not kid ourselves; life in the jungle isn’t easy. It is hard work, lugging water from the river to the house, hiking miles through rough terrain to visit friends or family. Having no electricity, mobile network, access to modern medicine or any other modern comforts. To be self-reliant. But the people we saw seemed happy, living in harmony with each other and nature. They have enough sago and plenty of livestock. I miss the starchy sour taste of sago, freshly roasted above the fire in palm leaves or bamboo. I miss bathing outside in the river, low as it was after months of drought. I miss the thankful smiles of the old ladies when we rubbed their knees with tiger balm.

The WOAM team with the Sakkudei clan

Our host Teu Reppa is not only a kerei but the head of a large clan. Just before we arrived one of his sons passed away, so we worried we were imposing - but the messenger, a son who had hiked several hours to pass us the news at the Uma of our guide Amanipai, ensured us we were still welcome. The care we got from Teu Reppa’s family was astonishing. Even without a common language we managed to bond with them, particularly the women and children. Mostly the visitors they receive (the last group having come a year ago) are men, and serious hikers. We were eleven women, there for a week. We drove Johan, our head guide and interpreter, crazy with all our questions, but also managed to elicit so many laughs. We chatted and sang with the children, several of which attend the village school and therefore speak Bahasa Indonesia. We ate sago worms, witnessed the slaughter of pigs that we feasted on ceremoniously. 

Chatting with the children

Feast of boiled pig during ceremony

There is clearly a split in the family between the traditional and modern minded – of Teu Reppa’s sons two became shamans and live in the forest with their families, where another specifically wants his children to have an education in the village. This chasm in their lives is a tricky one that raises important questions: how long can their lifestyle last? And; how can the Mentawai maintain their culture and religion in modern Indonesia? There is so much more to reflect on – and write about, but for now I digest, I reminisce. I look at the photos and transport myself back to the Uma. 

Aman-suri (Teu Reppa's son) preparing sago flour

Me in the 'bedroom'

As I try to doze off, back there, I shake awake, startled by a stampede on the wooden floor planks and screaming voices. The air in the Uma crackles with suspense, and curious, my friends and I sneak past the tribe on our way out to the bush toilet for a quick peak. We won’t find out details until Johan enlightens us the next day: The spirit of the recently deceased clan member has come back to inhabit others. In a deep trance the possessed woman rocks and sways, restrained by family members with a long piece of cloth. As we walk back to the area we sleep in she follows us, tells us not to worry in a friendly tone, then continues dancing right at our feet as we acquiesce to the fact we won’t get any sleep tonight. The woman’s beautiful yet eerie voice fills the electric atmosphere as she dances, twirling and smelling the sweet ginger flowers her mother-in-law gave her to keep her soul grounded. It goes on all night, the chanting, the singing, the trances and the stampedes. The animals, my friends and I, we don’t sleep a wink. 

From my house in Bali, I think back to Siberut. I am still alive, but I hope I can go back to that Uma too some time soon, if not in real life, then at least in spirit.


To be continued


(PS several of the photos not by me but by teammate Andrea Galkova)

Eating worms for charity

My ‘modern’ life is safe, clean and comfortable. It is also hectic, more connected to devices than nature – and leaves a disproportionately large ecological footprint. Living in Bali I am starting to realise this more and more, as I witness how people live in the villages surrounding us. The Balinese lifestyle puts a bigger emphasis on spiritual wellbeing than on economical growth. Work is easily abandoned for yet another ceremony – to the despair of many expats. To be fair, at times that includes me, but at the same time I am glad to see there are still people in this world that don’t think everything is about money. That is not to say there are no challenges here – that many Balinese don’t also want that new handphone or a faster scooter. But life does seem to flow at a different pace, and there is a lot to learn for bule like us. 

As fascinating as the Balinese culture is, I have an old dream: to dip my toes in even deeper mud than that of the Balinese sawahs. Triggered by memories from my childhood in Malaysian Borneo, I have always been fascinated by tribes living in the deep jungle, trying as much as they can to live in and off the forest. This dream, however, is not that easy to fulfil when you have young children – one doesn’t just bugger off and say ‘bye guys, mummy is of on her own to stay with some headhunters for a few weeks…’ 

So when I heard of the upcoming expedition organised by Women on a Mission, I knew this was my chance. With a group of twelve women I’m going on a ten-day trek to stay with an indigenous tribe in the Indonesian jungle. The twelve women joining are Singaporean or (former) expats in Singapore. Twelve privileged women, used to comfortable hotels, clean sheets and air-conditioning – trekking through dense jungle, sleeping in makeshift shelters full of creepy crawlies, bathing in rivers, eating sago worms; it has to be an unforgettable experience!

The original plan was to visit the Korowai tribe in West Papua – the most Eastern part of Indonesia that harbours the largest stretch of unspoilt rainforest in the region and ranks very high on my bucket list, not only for the amazing nature, but also the fascinating yet tragic Papuan people. The political situation in West Papua has been unstable for a long time. The Papuans are fighting for independence from Indonesia, and violence has escalated recently after racist incidents on Java. It would be irresponsible to travel to the region at this time. The Papuan struggle for peace is far from over, nor is my dream to visit them, and I hope both can be accomplished in the future.

Thankfully, Indonesia is huge, and WOAM managed to find another tribe that will welcome us. We will stay with the Sakuddei, one of the tribes that live on Pulau Siberut - the largest of the Mentawai - a group of islands west of Sumatra. Almost half of the island is a national park, covered in dense jungle. The tribes eat what the jungle provides, sago, fish and shrimp from the rivers, wild boar and the famous sago worms I’m particularly looking forward to! 

The Indonesian government ‘encourages’ indigenous tribes like these to assimilate, leave their homes in the jungle and re-settle in villages on the coast. Their habitat of primary forest is cut down for timber, or redeveloped for palm oil. I am keen to learn how the Sakkudei manage to preserve their tribal identity in the modern world. In preparation for the trip, I have been in touch with Suku Mentawai, a local NGO whose mission is to improve the health, well-being and livelihood of the Mentawai community by supporting indigenous culture and teaching its wisdom to the younger generation. They have agreed to meet when we are there, to discuss in what ways we can support this important cause.

The wisdom Suku Mentawai teaches young people on Siberut is old. Whilst life in new resettlement villages is often one of poverty, as there are few jobs there, tribal forest lifestyles are infinitely rich; developed over centuries to be in tune with their surroundings. The Mentawai traditionally live in uma, communities where everything is focused on balance: with each other and nature. Central to their beliefs is that everything has a soul, plants, objects and animals as well as people – and these souls need to be in a good relationship with each other. Every community has a kerei – or shaman - who can communicate with souls and the spirits of ancestors.  These shamans also have a wealth of knowledge of magical medical plants from the jungle.

Shamans, astonishing nature, eating worms; there is a lot to look forward to on this trip. The other thing the rainforest surrounding the Sukkadei is famous for is mud. Knee and thigh deep mud that we will have to hike through for hours – because the best things in life don’t come easy. What there won’t be is Wi-Fi, or even a mobile network – which will provide us with a much needed digital detox. And the upside is that not many tourists venture out there, so we will have all the privacy we crave. Aside from these physical and mental challenges I hope there will be much to learn in the forest, particularly about living together on this planet, in harmony with each other and nature. 

About Women on a Mission

Women on a Mission (WOAM) is a non-profit organisation, headquartered in Singapore, which aims to raise awareness and funds for women’s rights and empowerment, partnering with existing non-profit institutions that serve the underprivileged, with a particular focus on women's issues. Every year they organise challenging expeditions - self-funded by each participant - to raise money for the chosen charities. This will be WOAM’s 10^thexpedition and they have raised over SDG 1 million to date for their chosen charities. The upcoming expedition’s objective is to raise $100,000 SGD for Women for Women International – UK, a charity which provides women survivors of war and conflict with the tools and resources to move from crisis and poverty to stability and self-sufficiency. 

So whilst the participants of the trek are roughing it in the jungle, with their blisters, belly bugs and jungle meals, they ask their friends to sponsor them. Not for them - they themselves are lucky to go on this amazing adventure. But because there are many women in the world who have been through terrible events, and they need our help. 

Please consider supporting me to reach our target, donations made through the page below go directly to Women for Women UK 

  

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/karien-papua

Photos courtesy of Rob Henry of the Indigenous Education Foundation (IEF), partner of Suku Mentawai 

Pesky pest or yummy treat?

Can you guess what local delicacy this is? Read on and you will be rewarded... 

In Bali we are surrounded by sawah – rice paddies. So what better way is there to get ourselves acquainted with Balinese life than to learn how to farm rice?

For the past weeks Roel and I have been immersing ourselves in mud - learning from local farmers how they work, the issues they face these days, and see how they have been switching back to traditional chemical free farming methods. As soon as I feel less of a newbie on all matters rice, I will definitely be sharing more of that, but or now, here is a little appetiser to get you hooked on farming life in Bali. Yesterday we took revenge against one pesky pest we encountered: snails. 

After we spent weeks preparing the mud; ploughing, hoeing, stamping, fertilising, seeding, it was finally time to plant our tiny padi plants in the neat rows our farmers had drawn for us in the mud. With about ten bule it took us a couple of hours, and when we sludged out proudly, I have to admit I was slightly disappointed to hear that a Balinese farmer can do this in an hour. Alone. 
   

Later, when we came back to inspect our work, we saw how pesticide free farming presents challenges: a horde of hungry molluscs had been feasting on our babies. One of the fields particularly saw more than half of the padi devoured by snails - thankfully not the one we had been working on. As we don’t use chemicals, we started googling, asking around for natural remedies to scare the snails away; ideas from beer-filled traps to crushed eggshells and human hair were tossed around. But the Balinese farmers had a better idea: let’s have a barbecue!

As Green School parents we all know that to preserve our planet we need to eat less meat; the production of beef, lamb and pork greatly contributes to climate change, deforestation - and of course there is animal welfare to consider. So I can say that I personally rejoiced at the idea of eating some sustainably sourced, free range protein. Guiltless meat! Bring on the snails.

 We roamed the field and surroundings to collect as many of the buggers as we could and collected them in a large bucket. And as I am sure by now you are all very hungry from reading this story: here is the recipe for grilled Balinese rice field snail! Even my children agree: they are enak! Delicious. 

1. Rinse the snails and bring them to boil in a pot of water with a generous handful of salt. Boil for 10-15 minutes until scum starts floating to the top.

2. The scum is what you don’t want, so rinse this off. Then use a satay stick take out the flesh: only the first fleshy bit is good to eat. The black part deeper in the shell contains the gut. 

3. Rinse the snails again, first with salty water, then with fresh water until no more mud comes out. Then string them onto bamboo satay skewers. You can grill the on a coal fire, but a gas grill works well too. Dip and coat the snails in some kecap manis (Indonesian sweet soy sauce) and grill until fragrant.

4. Serve with pecel, Indonesian peanut sauce and sambal (mashed chili). Ready made peanut sauce can be bought in supermarkets here, in varying degrees of spiciness. They are very easy to cook – just add hot water! They are great with any kind of satay, as well as vegetables, I always have some ready in storage for a quick lazy meal. 

That thing with Bali dogs

When people talk about the ways of Bali – which are supposedly both mystical and mysterious, I’m always sceptical. A very down-to-earth Dutch person doesn’t believe in such things, obviously. But Bali didn’t need long to prove me wrong. 

Roel and I have had a long-standing argument about pets, which basically boiled down to the fact that he wanted a dog and I didn’t. But now he was gallant enough to accompany me to the island of my dreams. So when someone posted a cute doggy on my Facebook wall, that happened to be staying in a kennel on the East Coast, conveniently located mere miles from where we were spending our holiday – it made sense even to me. Lara, a cute little Bali rescue dog joined our family. She was about one year old, raised and leash-trained by a Dutch dog rescuer. Lara has a sweet temperament that started to make me rethink my stand on dogs. 

One had better like dogs when visiting Bali. Because the main thing with Bali dogs is: they are everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. It is hard to walk more than a few meters without stumbling over one of the mongrels that live on Bali’s streets. Although they look like street dogs, the majority actually has an owner. Unfortunately, some of these owners have a different mentality towards pets from what most of us westerners are used to. Lucky for the dogs, an army of dog lovers are ready to sweep to the rescue of the mangy, the underfed, the scabies sufferers. They feed, medicate, sterilise and educate, important work that will hopefully help establish a healthy, happy population one day. 

They also swamp my social media daily with pictures of cute puppies in search of a ‘forever home.’ But I was resolute – I’m done with sleepless nights, potty training and needy infants. No matter how hard the girls begged, we would not get a puppy.

But then, one unlucky day, Bali strikes again. As we drive off from the Pantai Munggu carpark, where we tried to coerce Lara to like walks on the beach, we feel a bump. Roel looks up from the wheel and a queasy feeling comes up in my stomach. We pull over and we rush out of the car. Long story short – we hit a dog.

Not only had we hit a dog, it turns out we had hit it right in front of one of Bali’s dog rescuers – which are only slightly less ubiquitous than dogs here. She had just had this little stray vaccinated. Of course we immediately offered to pay for any veterinary costs.

It turned out the dog had broken both hips and needed surgery - expensive surgery. Since we live in a country where some people cannot even afford medical care for their children, we found ourselves in a moral dilemma. Was it justified to spend this amount on a stray dog? On the other hand, not only had we promised to pay, we felt responsible for the poor creature - after all we did drive over it. I think you can now all see that there is only one way this story can end? 

There is no way we could put a dog back on the streets after spending so much on medical bills. Little Munggu, estimated to be about six months old, is a cute black puppy with the saddest eyes ever. Having adopted me as her new mother, she follows me around everywhere like the puppy she is with her slow limp. In the end, it didn’t matter whether I wanted dogs or not. The dogs got me. 

Goodbye bacon, hello tofu

We knew we were in for some surprises in Bali; after all, we moved from metropolis Singapore to a small rural community in Indonesia. Tumbak Bayuh is a village on the west coast of Bali, about ten minutes from the sea and the hustle and bustle of touristy Canggu. It is a different world. 

We are surrounded by fields. When we walk the dog, we have to be mindful of the cows that graze in between the sawah. Chicken run amok everywhere. Friendly farmers wave at us as we plod along the narrow ridges between the mud. Last week we ran in to Pak Candra, our security guard at night, working his day job tending to a field of beans. He immediately pressed an armful of long beans on us, as well as a pile of tiny cucumbers. Dinner sorted. 

It is obvious people here, in a farming community, are much more in tune with nature. But farming life can be harsh, for people and animals alike. Many Balinese families keep a few pigs at the back of their house. Exploring the back alleys we pass the friendly, noisy giants in their small concrete pens. A few days ago the kids came home from school upset. On the way they had witnessed the rather uncomfortable transport of a large pig on a truck – I think we can all guess its destination. I won’t share details, but it suffices to say that they decided to become vegetarian on the spot. I explained that they had been eating pork for years, and that in other countries animals raised for meat are not treated particularly nice either. But we, the consumers, don’t get to see that. The animals and their torture are effectively hidden. The Netherlands for instance, is a huge pork producer, yet I have never seen a pig outside a petting zoo there. 

As we eat little meat in our family anyway, Roel and I decided on solidarity – we would all not eat any meat for a month. Better for the animals as well as the world, since meat production is a mayor contributor to climate change. Jasmijn stated that if she hadn’t died by then, she might consider doing it long term. Linde was fine as long as she didn’t have to become vegan and stop eating cheese. Tijm, our resident carnivore, will struggle the most. Roel is already considering cheating (he got invited by a friend to eat babi guling, suckling pig, shht, don’t tell the kids) As I rarely eat meat I was full of encouragement, until I found out they intended to exclude seafood too. To show that they meant it, they made up a contract, signed it, and put it up on the fridge. 

Thankfully the Green School lunches are all vegetarian, and we have plenty of meat-free recipes up our sleeves, like Indah’s tempeh, sambal eggs, and our children’s favourite: crispy tofu. This is the dish that you can serve to any visiting child that claims not to like tofu. Trust me, I tried it with the pickiest of playdates! I have promised friends many times to share the recipe, so finally, here it is! And, without Indah to cook us for us, it is all hands on deck and Linde helped in the preparation. 

Crispy tofu

extra firm tofu
cornflakes
cornstarch
2 eggs
light soy sauce
fresh lime or lemon juice
pepper & salt

You need a firm, dry tofu to make this successfully. In Singapore we used Tau Kwa, which is perfect, but in Indonesia and Europe the tofu is often more wet, so make sure to drain it well. If necessary, squeeze out excess water. Cut it in bite-sized rectangles, roughly the size of chicken nuggets. Marinate the pieces in about two tablespoons of soy sauce and one of lemon juice for a little while. Season with salt and pepper.

Crush the cornflakes - we use a mortar and pestle but you can also crush them with a roller pin - until they have the texture of coarse breadcrumbs. 

Now, make an assembly line: one bowl with about half a cup of corn starch, one bowl of beaten eggs, one with the cornflake crumble. Toss & turn each cube of tofu in the corn-starch, egg and cornflakes consecutively. Make sure they are coated all around. 

Heat a generous layer of oil in a low frying pan or wok. When it is very hot, toss in the coated tofu pieces. They need to be fried in a single layer, so it will take a couple of round. Fry them on both sides until brown and crispy, it only takes a few minutes.

We all enjoy them with our favourite sauces, the kids like tomato ketchup and mayonaise whilst the adults prefer sweet Thai chili or sriracha.


* the gorgeous pig photographs are courtesy of fellow Green School parent Ted!

Greener in Bali

The grass is always greener elsewhere, and as a nomad, I evidently got itchy feet after seven years in Singapore – a personal record of living in one place. But one can’t just pack up and leave, you in fact need to go somewhere, which raised the difficult question: where should we go? That exact question has been buzzing around our household for years.

Often a next move for expats is dictated by work, but if there is no such push, just a general pull and a sense of adventure – the world is your oyster. That sounds like the ultimate luxury, but it also makes things ultimately complicated. Drowning in a sea of too much choice, too many factors – good education for the kids, a pleasant climate, liveable surroundings, a good culture for raising kids, and exciting prospects for work, we felt stuck. We were tired from the high pace of city-state Singapore. We needed a break; time to spend together as a family before the kids were too old to want to spend it with us.

The question I have been asked uncountable times the last few months is: why Bali? I always want to answer; why not Bali? After debating for years what our next move would be we eventually decided on an impulse, after seeing a Facebook post on one of the green attractions of this green island: a Green School. Combined with my own fascination for all things Indonesian, Roel’s wish for a fun place to spend his upcoming sabbatical overthinking his next steps, it seemed perfect.

So here we are. In Bali. In our new house overlooking rice fields, with our new Bali rescue dog, discovering new things, learning a new language. Away from the safety and comfort that was Singapore. And we are starting to figure things out. The Bali traffic no longer defies us, as we find order in the chaos and the politeness of the Balinese (if you get cut off on your scooter you can bet it’s a fat white Bule on that bike). We are starting to find out where to get our groceries (and sorry Linde, we do really need to cut down on cheese, who would have believed there is a country in the world where cheese is more expensive than Singapore?)

The kids are starting to settle in in the new school, and I can say one thing: things are definitely greener there! This is the school where all new parents (including me) sigh: I wish I was a kid again so I can go to school here… The classrooms are made of bamboo and have no walls. They are situated in lush gardens. There are rabbits and chicken, and cats wandering about for Linde and Jasmijn to cuddle. Tijm has started Middle School where he can select exciting elective subjects like surfing and free diving. The focus is on sustainability, the school wants to educate the green leaders of tomorrow. At the same time they are innovative educators, the guiding principle is that school should in fact be fun, as kids learn way more when they can follow their passions and enjoy themselves. We hope that they will manage to challenge our boy with a passion for maths as well as sports.

And, there is plenty for the parents too. Roel and I enrolled in a course where we will work alongside the Balinese to learn about the rice cycle, establishing ties with local farmers and develop a shared vision for expanding organic rice supply. I can’t wait to get my feet in that mud! Roel’s other goal this year is learning to surf whilst I am looking forward to many mornings like this one, where I sit on my patio alternating writing and gazing at our amazing view. I am starting to believe this was a good move.

And then of course there is always the follow up question that still defies me: how long do you plan to stay? There is only one answer to that: I have no idea. 

(Okay, some photos, because I know you all want me to poke your eyes out with the gorgeousness of our new surroundings. And yes the guest room is ready... )