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Lise & Faridahs house |
Due to the fact that there are no proper steps going up the
incredibly steep hill to Lise and Faridahs house and one has to almost
claw ones way up the sliding dirt, scarbbling for a foothold (I have no
idea how the kids managed all on their own to get the the suitcases up
it), Faridahs motorbike is kept outside the café down below and the
helmets kept on top of the glass food display cabinet, these of course
being merely a suggestion. Although it is the law to wear a helmet
hardly anyone does. I impressed upon the kids that they must wear a
helmet when they go on the back of Faridahs bike and regaled them with
the story that occured a few weeks ago of two twelve year olds who were
riding down the road outside Lise's place and got squashed between a
truck and a car - it was said that their eyes had popped out when their
skulls had been crushed. This proved to be enough to put the wind up the
kids.
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The view of helmetless riders Riding along on the motorbike with Faridah |
Doning said optional helmet, I slipped behind the helmetless Faridah and
we rode off to Samadua, Faridah honking her horn every two seconds, not
to warn people on the road of our approach behind them, but rather to
gather an audience of interested onlookers from the houses lining the
road to witness her passing with a white person on board. The fact that
Lise's family has come to visit considerably elevates both Faridahs and
Lise's status in the community, so conscious of this I'm careful to
smile at everyone, even a becak tray full of kids who call out 'Bulai'
meaning 'albino' a derogatory term for white people that I had so far
not heard in Aceh but had heard plenty of in North Sumatra. I let them
know from my facial expression that I've understood what they've said
and they immediately look contrite.
Riding up a back street, a novelty because most houses are along the
roadside so people can set up little stalls in their houses to make some
extra money, and also see what's going on in the neighborhood better,
we came to a stop at the magic or psychic mans house.
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Magic man's house |
The elderly Bapak
wearing a sarong and peci (the traditional Indonesian hat) took us
outside to a raised, white pavilion. The magic mans daughter brought
bettle nuts, Siri (the special green leaves accompanying the chewing of
the beetle nuts) and lime, which made the inside of Faridahs mouth a
brilliant scarlet color once she'd finished chewing.
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Magic man's daughetr cutting up siri |
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Betel nut (siri) with lime paste in background that gets added and rolled up in leaf |
The magic man
listened to his packet of cigarettes (I'm not joking) then asked Faridah
to purchase two bottles of water that he blessed. One was for Torsten
who had diarrhea (we had forgotten to take our Betaine Hydrochloride
tablets, increasing our stomach acid levels to kill any bugs with each
meal) and the other was for me and R so we wouldn't have confusing
thoughts. Although I hadnt asked anything of him, this was ostensibly
Faridahs visit, he then asked for me to take the sapphire off my finger
and mumbled a blessing into and told me to wear it always so R would
remember he had a wife and wouldn't be tempted to look at other women!
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Magic man of Sama Dua with cigarette |
Although this all sounds bizarre, the whole village holds him in great
esteem and everything he has has ever said has been accurate.
On the way home we rode a back road through the hills and forest before
emerging back onto the main road. Small huts on stilts sat in the
middle of rice padis and Faridah pointed out where her buffalo were
kept. The more buffalo one has the wealthier one is. Female buffalo are
more valuable because they can of course give birth to more buffalo
thereby increasing ones stock. Faridah and Lise have four buffalo, three
females and one male.
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Religious sacrifice of buffalo |
The males are generally sold or kept for
ceremonial occasions, to be sacrificially slaughtered. Last time we were
here in 2007 there had been an old buffalo grandmother, an old lady who
looked after three buffalo. Every afternoon we would see her walking
her buffalo from where they'd been grazing during the day across the
beach and home. Lise had done a semi-cubist painting of her tending her
buffalos that had been exhibited in Melbourne for an International
Women's Art Exhibition (Her Presence in Colours) showcasing art work
from women of 40 different countries - Lise was representing Indonesia.
We were sad to here that though old grandmother buffalo still lived, two
of her buffalos had been stolen (probably by non-muslim people from
Medan with trucks in the night) and the third one had been killed and
partially eaten by a tiger ( the endangered Sumatran tiger they have
here).
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