Buru Tales Prepared for the Second International Maluku Research Conference By Chaumont Devin July - August 1992 Buru Island can be found in the vicinity of 4 degrees south and 156 degrees east lattitude. It lies in the Central Moluccan Archipelago, perhaps 1,000 miles south of Manila and 650 miles north of Port Darwin, Australia. The Buru people speak an ancient Austronesian language related closely to other languages of the immediate area. Over the centuries, they have developed a fascinating body of oral tradition in their native tongue, including factual narratives, clan origin myths, religious and magical incantations and spells, ceremonial speeches, formalized riddles, poetry, and songs. Written material is absent, though it is said that a kind of writing called "mustoki" is used by some to leave romantic messages in the limestone formations by the streams. For purposes of this paper, however, we will limit ourselves to a discussion of the Buru tales known variously as "harkayaten," "hakayaten," "karhayaten," "kahayaten," "kahaten," "aten," etc. These words are obviously derived from the Arabic word, "hikayat," meaning "history," married to the Buru word, "aten," meaning "cleverly arranged." The Arabic origin of the word is revealing in that many Buru tales do bear traces of Arabian influence. But Arabia has probably received pilgrims from the Moluccas since at least the 11th century (after the establishment of the Sultanate of Ternate, which once ruled Buru), and there is a tantalizing possibility that ideas may have flowed in the opposite direction as well. Another outside influence that can be perceived in Buru tales is that of the Malay language and culture, which shows up often in personal names. The Hindu influence, if it exists at all, is very subtle. Extemporization and reliance upon the cliche are strongly reminiscent of the story poems of ancient Europe, but such similarities probably spring from parallel cultural development rather than from any direct influence. The narration of tales is an important source of entertainment In the lonely mountains of Buru, where no written material or electronic media exists. It is also an invaluable vehicle for the transmission of the finer points of culture from one generation to the next. Many a Buru child has doubtless formulated attitudes, values, ideas, and dreams while listening to the drone of a narrator's voice by the waning light of a damar-gum torch late at night. Buru tales are generally told only at night. Ideally, Buru tales are sung as story poems containing more-or-less the same number of syllables per line. Each stanza is sung in a single breath, and the tune for each stanza is a repeat of that for the last. The narrator skillfully extemporizes the words and makes them fit into the tune, drawing upon a large repertoire of cliches. Drums are never used. If disatisfied, the narrator may pause to search for a better tune to use before going on. Narrators seem to be free to experiment creatively with these tunes in order to develop new ones. But the resulting sound is somehow always uniquely Buru. Less energetic narrators, or those with less time, may simply tell the tale as a story in his or her own words. Narrators may be either male or female, and of any age. Some older narrators are much sought after because of their skills and broad Page 2 knowledge of Buru lore. The Buru tales have a surprising level of violence, with descriptions in lurid detail. Sex scenes may also be frankly described, often by very young nerrators. Humor is an important element of many tales. In short, practically anything goes. The greatest taboo surrounding the story poem is that against telling them during the day. It is said that those involved in such things lose their orientation in the forest, and may become hopelessly lost. The reason for such a taboo is obvious, since it is imparative for the people to work during daylight hours in order to stay alive. Though a Buru tale may be about almost anything in the Buru world, and characters and situations need never be the same, a special cast of characters and repertoire of situations has evolved. For a more in-depth acquaintance with the Buru tale in general, let us now examine some of these: Siribodo is probably the best loved of all Buru characters. He is definitely linked to the Abu Nuwas, of Arab tradition, so much so that he is sometimes refered to interchangeably as "Abunawas" in the tales. He is also sometimes known as Sigeni, apparently from Javanese "Si Genit," meaning roughly "The Tricky One. The "-bodo" part of his name appears to derive from Malay "bodoh," meaning "stupid." The "Siri-" part is not so straightforward. It may derive from the Malay "sirih," the pepper vine whose long fruit are chewed with betel nut. Or it may derive from the Sanskrit honorific "Sri," or "Shri," which seems to appear as well in the name, Bokisraja (Bevidently Boki Sri Raja). The Moluccas probably received a small influx of people with Hindu names at the time of the collapse of the Majapahit Empire." This "Stupid Sirih Vine" fellow," or whoever he is, can trick almost anyone, but especially the slow-witted king, Tuaq Kolatu. His exploits remind us of the great Abu Nuwas, of Bagdad, except that, as the Buru people would have it, instead of just outsmarting the king, Siribodo usually ends up seeing him dead and marrying his four pretty wives. Tuaq Kolatu is a humorous composite caricature of the oppresive tyrant. Buru was ruled by vassals of the sultan of Ternate for hundreds of years, and the remnants of that empire have persisted through the middle of this century. The "Tuaq" of "Tuaq Kolatu is from Malay "Tuan," meaning "owner" or "lord," and the Austronesian "latu," heard in Malay "datuk" and Fijian "ratu," meaning "chief." The origin of the "Ko-" part is less clear. Tuaq Kolatu usually has forty slaves and four wives, and never goes anywhere except in his sedan chair. His forty slaves (the "Atar Pol Paa") tend to get excited about such things as music and beautiful women. At such momentss, they all run off to investigate whatever it is they have heard or seen, the ones carrying the sedan chair dropping it with a resounding thud. This behavior is followed by shouts and curses from Tuaq Kolatu, which puts everything back in order again. Tuaq Kolatu then sees the beautiful woman for himself, and schemes to separate her from her husband, rape her, and make her his wife. The poor husband is left without the slightest idea of what to do, but the clever wife tells him not to worry, and makes a fool of Tuaq Kolatu, who usually ends up dead. That beautiful wife is Potriaflawa (Malay "Putri," meaning "Princess," and Buru "Eflawa," meaning "Gold"). Potriaflawa is the Page 3 composite woman of any man's dreams. She is surrounded by music, and her beauty radiates like shafts of sunlight. She is very clever, controls magical powers, and lives to satisfy the desires of one man. One usually finds her preoccupied with a sewing machine. That young man who is her husband once found her alone with her sewing machine in some desolate place. His name is Ana Kasiaq (Malay "Anak Kasihan," or "Poor Boy"). Broken-hearted, penniles, and dressed in rags, he sets out in search of his fortune, and finds Potriaflawa sewing her heart out in a magical house surrounded by bright sapin trees (Castanopsis buruana, probably a chestnut). He is ashamed of the rags he wears, but she throws him a shirt and pants, and he puts them on. She welcomes him into her house and arms-- Or perhaps more accurately, "into her legs," because they ofetn end up locking thighs ("af sar keba") for seven days and nights before anything else. From this point on, Ana Kasiaq's life is transformed, and he may become ruler or king. Bokhena is another favorite girl. Her name is from "Boki," meaning "Princess, and "hena," meaning "youngest." She is the youngest of seven sisters, who pick on her in an older-sisterly sort of way. Sometimes a command is passed all the way from the oldest sister to the next, to the next, and so on until finally it reaches Bokhena, who has no one else to command. So Bokhena ends up doing most of the work. But it is ultimately Bokhena who marries the prince. Her older sisters get jealous, and sometimes try to kill her, but she always manages to overcome them. That prince Bokhena marries is Raja Muda (Malay, meaning "Young King"). Instead of using a sedan chair, Raja Muda moves about on foot, and he is nothing like Tuaq Kolatu. There are always a lot of girls around who would like to get married to him, but can't. Such girls are often Mukakipas. Mukakipa is the incarnation of all the things girls tend to be but should not. Mukakipa may not be pretty, but she is always shamelessly selfish and vain. If she is sitting in the front of a canoe and another girl is in the stern, she asks the people on the shore which one is prettiest, the one in the bow or the stern. She makes the other girl change places with her when the people on the shore say, "The stern!" Then they shout, "The bow!" etc. But Mukakipa never seems to catch on. At other times she is like the Hawaiian mo'o, who lure unsuspecting men by their beauty to a terrible death in the streams. Another important Buru lady is Sugi Emkeda (Old Woman). She may be wrinkled and gnarled, but she is full of surprises, and she has the tricks to survive. Unsuspecting warriors often lose their heads to Sugi Emkedan's trusty axe, and she may well turn out to be a warrior of great valor herself. She sometimes leads small bands of helpless children through trackless forests, and dispatches Murampaat in a deul. Murampaat ("Mu Ram Paat," meaning "Four Eyed Mu") is a lumbering giant who has four eyes and eats human flesh. The origin of the "Mu" part of his name is not known, but it may well mean "giant." He tends to live alone or with his wife. Lost children often find Page 4 their way to his house, where they are treated much like Hansel and Gretel in the European tale. Anyone able to kill a Murampaat is automatically a hero. Another kind of wild man is the Geba Bohot (bad person). Geba Bohot people are much more like the modern people of Buru except that they have long hair, steal from the fields, and live in caves. Many older Buru people claim to have met Geba Bohot in the forest, and in 1966, the elder of Griaxlale claimed to have killed one in a deul. He brought home the severed fingers of a man's hand to prove his point. They speak the Buru language, and it is not clear whether they are a kind of people formerly prevalent in Buru, mentally disturbed people who have separated themselves from society, or both. Whatever they are, the Geba Bohot people are considered fair game, and usually end up getting killed in the Buru tales. There are many Geba Bohot tales. Many of them are about rape and revenge. Others are about strange phobias, and how Geba Bohot people lose their lives because of them. Still others are about how village men kill Geba Bohot people who steal from their traps and fields. The Kacil warriors are usually men of great prowess and valor who appear in tales of rape and revenge. The title "Kacil," is probably a left-over from the days of Ternate. While Kacil Dehet is away in the forest, his wife is raped by an epkitan from some distant mountain range, who then kidnaps her and forces her to follow him home. An epkitan (probably from Portuguese "Kapitan") is an important warrior, usually associated with a village or place. Kacil Dehet returns and takes up the spoor. The tracks lead to a village in the Kapalamada range. He leaps up and sits on the branch of a fumera (a kind of banana tree incapable of bearing the weight of a man) to survey the village befor his attack. Kacili Tua Fraqi ("Buttocks Covered With Yaws") has a tick in his eyelash or arm and knows that Kacil Dehet's weapons now overshadow the land. He tries to warn the great men of his village as he serves them palm wine, but they scoff at his fears and drink on. Then Kacil Dehet descends upon the village killing every man, woman, and child with his "kehet" sword. He spares only his wife and a young virgin or two for his son. His son may be an infant left behind by his wife, who has miraculously grown into a man, and now fights at his father's side. Such precocious infants also appear often in Buru lore. The precocious infant character may have arisen from the title "Kacil," which sounds like Malay "kecil," meaning "little." In one tale, Kacil Anan ("Kacil Child") is taken on an adventure by an impatient older brother who cannot wait for him to grow up. He sits astride his brother's carrying pole as they strike out across Buru, and when his brother gets into sword fights, he sets him carefully down. The enemy leans in upon his brother, and Kacil Anan crawls down off the carrying pole and dispatches his brother's attacker with one blow. Then he crawls back onto the carrying pole, and they go their merry way. Other tales include headhunter attacks, and the defense of Buru against Papuan raids. Page 5 The heros and heroines of Buru tales often flit about on "malige" flying devices. From descriptions and models, a malige resembles nothing as much as an open box. A drawing by the late Temi Solisa depicted a milige box as having four stubby wings resembling tortoise fins. Sacred models claimed from villages in southern Buru by the Gereja Protestan (the Moluccan offshoot of the Dutch Reformed Church) consisted of shallow boxes with poles running along their sides and protruding beyond the corners of the boxes in all the eight lateral directions. They were spread inside with batik cloth. The author once heard a description of a malige descending in which the malige made a "krrrr" noise. Maliges levitate and move freely over the countryside, and need no special places to land. When their owners are absent, they can be left to hover indefinitely over one spot. In one tale, guests visiting a village climbed up into their waiting malige to sleep through the night. Tales of the malige appear to predate the advent of the aeroplane, but this has yet to be corroborated from the writings of the past. Suffice it to say that, according to the late Temi, "All those things our old people told us about in the tales have now come to pass." Tantalizing questions are raised by similarities between Buru tales and tales from other parts of the world. A Pingelap Micronesian tale bears a striking resemblance to the tale of the Geba Bohot and the two girls. Two girls flee from a blind man and take refuge in a tree that hangs out over a pool in a stream. The wild man appears and sees their reflection in the stream. He dives fruitlessly trying to capture them in the water. In the Buru version, the younger sister can't hold it any longer, urinates, and gives their hiding place away when her urine falls on the wild man's head. He takes them home to his cave and makes them his wives, but they ultimately escape with their lives. In the Pingelap version, the two girls laugh when the wildman is under water, but ultimately make a mistake and laugh when he comes up for air. He starts to gnaw down the tree with his teeth, but the two girls are rescued by a bird. How old is this tale? and from where did it come? Another distant relative of the Buru tales is the Polynesian tale of Rata and his canoe. In the buru version, the creatures of the forest also restore the tree by putting all the chips back together in the night, but a white dove takes pity on the boy. It turns out that this white dove is chief of birds, and he orders his legions to build the boy his canoe. Then each tiny bird takes hold of the gunnels, and together they fly it to the sea. From the Buru tales, we can also get some idea of the cosmological concept of the world that existed in the Buru mind. The Buru people envisioned a universe of layered worlds, perhaps stacked one upon another, or fitting inside one another like concentric shells. Hunters follow their prey into pits and caves only to discover that they have arrived in open villages where what they once saw as animals are men. Other fortunate hunters chance upon fairy princesses bathing in a stream, their wings laid carelessly on the banks nearby. This provides an opportunity to spy out the youngest princess and hide her wings so she will not be able to return to the upper world with her friends. They leave her cowering and naked, and the hunter comes and takes her freedom and maidenhood away. Page 6 Amazingly, in the face of tremendous outside pressures, the art of Buru story telling has continued to survive. Insights into the making of a Buru legend may be derived from the story of Aras, who killed the terrible Yanagisawa with his trusty sword. Yanagisawa had been the hated Japanese tyrant in control of the Fakal - Emqesawaen area during World War II. As the war drew to a close, the Buru people decided to rid themselves of him. They chose Aras and one or two others to do the job. Aras chose the moment Yanagisawa was in his bath barrel for the attack. To outsiders this might seem like a brutal and cowardly assassination, but the Buru people were in such terror of the Japanese that Aras became a folk hero. Tales sprang up about Aras and Yanagisawa. The facts became embellished by acts associated with the ancient warriors of Buru. Before the attack, the story goes, Aras spent seven days and nights sitting back-to-back with a Buru master. When they arose, both had such spiritual powers that they could leap to great heights, and walk on clotheslines. Aras had been chosen for this task from the beginning of time. Etc. By recording these tales we are preserving an ancient and beautiful tongue, and with it a picture of the reality that Buru once was. The tales bring to life the fair fields, the blue mountains, and the ancient forests, and preserve them in a way nothing else can. They describe for us the intimate details of Buru thought, the cycles of Buru life, and ultimately the suffering, heartbreak, and triumph common to all of mankind.