Metamorphosis of the Cassowaries

Umeda Society, Language and Ritual Volume 51

Alfred Gell

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN:
  9780367716561
• eBook ISBN:
  9781000324365
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Anthropology
• Index: Social Sciences

In this substantial book, Gell guides the reader systematically through an analysis of the social structure, language and ritual of the Umedia-Punda connubium of the West Sepik district. One of the central areas explored is the ida fertitility ritual and the decipherment and the unravelling of symbolic relationships between words of similar construction. One one side is the anaylsis on the temporal sequence of events (or ritual roles) metamorphosing the casswary (nature) into the 'new man' (culture) and the on other side, the associated 'harmonic levels' which allude to body painting, choreography and social status. His approach substantiates the view that the ritual is not so much about the establishing of linear causality in the relationship between a society and its environment, but with the 'an act of poetic legislation over the course of nature'.

1
The Umeda Setting

i. INTRODUCTION

This book is divided into three main parts: firstly an account of the social structure of Umeda village (Chapter 2) followed by a discussion of kinship terminology, language and symbolism (Chapter 3) and finally, a descriptive analysis of the ida ceremony, the ritual of sago fertility (Chapters 4 and 5). The present chapter is by way of an introduction: I shall not broach any of my major themes here, leaving them to the later chapters, since my present purpose is to place the Umedas on the map, giving some idea of their physical surroundings; and also to say a little about their material culture and economic life. But first, a word about the contact situation.

ii. CONTACT AND ADMINISTRATION

The fieldwork on which this thesis is based was carried out between February 1969 and July 1970 in Umeda village, which is one of four villages which, together, make up the Waina-Sowanda census area in the West Sepik District of New Guinea. My investigations did not extend beyond the limits of the Waina-Sowanda census area, though some of the features of social structure and ritual which characterize the four villages in the Waina-Sowanda area have been found elsewhere in the Sepik district, and also occur in accounts of groups to the west, across the Irian border. My conclusions, therefore, apply primarily to the Waina-Sowanda area (i.e. to a population of no more than c. 960 individuals). It is perhaps regrettable that it is only possible to speak in terms of such a tiny aggregate of people, but that, indeed, is very much a feature of work in the less ecologically favoured regions of New Guinea. Population, in the Waina-Sowanda area and the surrounding region as well, is extremely sparse; though figures for population per square mile would be misleading, since in certain pockets of country quite dense populations are found, and a relatively intensive exploitation of the environment. This is particularly true of the W asengla valley, to the north of the W aina-Sowanda area.

The Waina-Sowanda area is shown on Map 1. The four villages, Umeda, Punda, Sowanda and Waina-Wyalla are administered from Imonda patrol post, six hours’ walk away (there were no motorable roads of any kind in Imonda sub-district in 1969–70). Five councillors were elected by villagers in the area. They represent their villages (Waina-Wyalla being counted as two villages by the administration) on the Walsa Local Government Council. Other councillors were elected by the Imonda and W alsa villages, and the council met every six weeks at the Imonda patrol post.

MAP 1. The Waina-Sowanda area

The administrative history of the Waina-Sowanda area is rather complex. The first outsiders to penetrate the area were Malay bird-of-paradise hunters, who, armed with primitive flintlock muskets, sporadically visited the area during the first half of the century. Later, with the establishment of the Dutch rule in West New Guinea before the war, occasional patrols visited the western part of the area, after about 1930, without setting up a permanent administrative presence. After 1950, Dutch activity increased considerably, the Waris patrol post (now just on the other side of the Irian border) was established, and missionaries of Dutch origin entered the area, introducing large quantities of metal implements and cloth. During the fifties the stone technology of the area was largely superseded, though some stone implements are still in use, particularly sago pounders, which have no steel equivalent. By the late fifties, the Dutch were firmly established, particularly in the Western villages; rest houses were built, native authorities instituted (certain men are still called ‘korano’, a hangover from this period) and the missions sent catechists, trained in Hollandia, to teach the people to read.

With the expulsion of the Dutch in 1962 a sudden about-face occurred. Previously considerable vagueness existed as to the precise location of the boundary between Dutch and Australian territory: but when the Dutch were replaced, unexpectedly, by the Indonesians who were far from being at the time well-disposed towards the Australian regime in New Guinea, this comfortable vagueness was rapidly superseded by a meticulous definition of mutual boundaries.

It was discovered that the territory to the west of the Waris patrol post (‘the Waris enclave’) lay to the west of the 141°E dividing line, and steps were at once taken to put the whole area firmly under Australian control. lmonda patrol post was built, together with the air-strip, and Australian patrols entered the Waina-Sowanda area for the first time.¹

¹ For a journalist’s account of the ‘Wild men of Waina’ see Willey 1966.

The Australian patrols found considerable disparity in the degree to which the impact of Dutch presence had made itself felt in the ‘Waris enclave’ of which the Waina-Sowanda area was a part. Along the course of the Wasengla river, and close to Waris itself, contact had been intensive, both as to administrative and Mission activity. Many were literate in Malay, having been trained as catechists. In the Waina-Sowanda, however, the Dutch had done little; the area was not really under control, there were no literate men, and Malay was not spoken. Evidently, the Dutch had chosen not to involve themselves, both because the area is inaccessible from Waris, and because, lying so far to the east, they regarded it as outside their sphere of influence, though they did not refrain from sending patrols there, more out of curiosity than anything else, no doubt.

To begin with, the Australians had little trouble in establishing administrative control. The people, lacking a sufficiency of metal tools, were eager to work on the construction of the air-strip and the patrol post, so as to obtain them.

Patrols were threatened at various times during the sixties, but there was no serious trouble between the villagers and the administration, until 1967, when a patrol sent to recapture a man of Umeda who had escaped from prison was threatened by a large body of men, and had to retire. Subsequently, about 20 men of Umeda were imprisoned. These men were not the only ones who were taken away. I was told that an equal number of men drawn, this time, from Umeda, Punda and Sowanda, were advised that they would benefit from a period as labourers in the plantations outside the area. These men were flown to Wewak (the first time, needless to say, that they had been inside an aeroplane) to the compound where would-be plantation labourers are concentrated before being despatched to their employers. While waiting to be deployed, in the camp, the Waina-Sowanda men - who were the ‘newest’ group in the camp at the time - were victimized by more sophisticated Sepiks. They determined to run away, so as to regain their homes. Their only means of ascertaining where they were, was the memory of what they had been able to see out of the window of the aeroplane which flew them to W ewak. They had seen the line of the mountains, and the river, and the higher mountains on the other side. Having broken out of the camp they subsequently split up into separate groups, living on what they could steal, always trying to follow the line of the Torricelli mountains. Most were recaptured before reaching home, though a few made it the whole way. One was shot as a suspected sorcerer, and they had many close escapes. The experience was decidedly educative for those who participated, though not, perhaps, all that the administrative powers would have wished. At present, only four Umcdas and a handful of men from the other villages have had any plantation experience and the idea is, on the whole, very unpopular: mainly, I think, because the experiences of the ex-prisoners and the ‘runaways’ has tended to reinforce the feeling of distrust and fear of other New Guineans inculcated into the people by their brushes with native policemen.

The impression I received from administrative personnel was that the ‘Waina-Sowandas’ were, by today’s standards a ‘difficult’ lot; trouble - of a minor kind - was never far from the surface; inexperienced officers were not permitted to patrol the area alone. Violence never directed towards myself, threatened on a number of occasions while I was in the field, and one shooting did take place, but on the whole I found that full-scale warfare had been definitively suppressed even before the Australians arrived in 1962. At no time was warfare anything like as endemic as it was, say, in the Highlands: and the Umedas were indeed grateful for the suppression of major warfare, since it removed the insistent pressure of the more numerous W alsa groups to the north, who threatened, at one time, to dislodge certain W aina-Sowanda groups entirely. Sporadic killings, generally in revenge for supposed acts of sorcery, arc another matter - it is likely that such attempts will continue.

The sensitivity, on the part of the Administration, to even quite trivial happenings in the Waina-Sowanda arose both out of the troubles of 1967–8, and the fact that the area abuts directly onto the international border. 1969 was the year of the ‘act of free choice’ in West Irian which occasioned the arrival of a number of refugees from Indonesian rule into the West Sepik district. None of these, as it happened, passed through the Waina-Sowanda, but the area was considered sufficiently sensitive from a military point of view, to be twice patrolled by the army, as well as being placed under the surveillance of specially briefed military personnel called ‘Civil Affairs Officers’ whose military role was an open secret, despite their discreet official title.

The Administration was generally popular, and the Local Government Council, though not very well understood by the people, provided an efficient means of communication between the Administration and the villagers and vice-versa. Real efforts were being made to educate the population politically, in preparation for independence. In the fields of health and education little had been done.

There was no medical aid nearer than Imonda, and no resort was made to help so far afield. Consequently, the health of the community left much to be desired; there were many deaths during my time in the field. In education, no progress at all can be recorded. No literate individuals were to be found in Waina-Sowanda, either in Malay or pidgin English, let alone English proper. A catechist had been established in Umeda for some years, but had failed to teach any of the children to read, though they had acquired a number of mournful mission ditties. The catechist was a Walsa, who was aided and abetted by his clan-brother, the ex-catechist, whose career had ended with a term ofimprisonment for the abduction of a married woman. They were both very popular. They lived on the charity of the villagers, which was humiliating for them: the catechist’s salary being only five dollars a month. They often contrasted their present indigence with the rich life they led as schoolboys in Hollandia, feasted on rice and fish, while now they had to survive on sago and bamboo shoots. They also contrasted their condition with that of the European missionaries, who lived in state and comfort on the mission station at Imonda, well-fed and with little in the way of work to do since few people lived near the station.

Meanwhile, besides giving religious instruction, the catechist was supposed to teach the three R’s. Unfortunately, it was the form, rather than the substance of these skills which was transmitted to their pupils, who could write the letters of the alphabet, but had no clue as to the sounds they represented. Writing was a ritual activity, and many had had strange formulae such as AFR or KNT tattooed on to their arms. Maths was still more of a performance; my young informants were always keen to borrow paper and biros to practise writing out addition sums. The ‘sum’ always ran:

1+1=1	4+4=4		1+2=3
2+2=4	5+5=5	or	2+3=4	and so on^2
3+3=3	6+6=6		3+4=5

² But see the footnote top. 161, where Umeda numerals arc discussed.

At best, the catechist was an effective teacher of pidgin English. Most pidgin had been learned by the ex-prisoners, by those who had been labourers, or from casual contacts with policemen and other agents of the administration. All the children and young men under twenty or so knew pidgin, though some were very unwilling to speak any. A few men aged up to 30 knew pidgin, about five speaking it very well, including the Umeda councillor, Porn. The general knowledge of pidgin is increasing all the time, especially since the catechist also teaches it to girls, who do not have access to the kinds of relationships through which the men have learned pidgin. But literacy, even in pidgin, is another matter; at present there seems little prospect of educational advance in the Waina-Sowanda.

To conclude on administration: though sporadic contact with Europeans has occurred over the last 20–30 years, for most of this time the influence exerted has been slight, except, perhaps, in the matter of the suppression of warfare. Since 1962, administration has been more intensive, in response to the underlying factor of the ‘confrontation’ with Indonesia which focussed attention on to the border areas of New Guinea. But the effects have been slight, and mission penetration has also been superficial only. Considerable material changes have resulted - notably the universal introduction of metal tools and, to a lesser extent, cloth. A little money circulates, but in no sense has money penetrated native economic activity: it is spent on trade-store goods, particularly clothes and tinned fish - otherwise it goes in Council Tax (50 cents per capita in 1970). Horizons have been widened - as far as the perimeter of Vanimo prison, one might say - but little fundamental change has occurred in the attitudes of the people. There has been no Cargo Cult activity. The activities of the administration are regarded neither with hostility, nor much enthusiasm. It is difficult to assess what the future has in store; in the absence of any possibility for economic development in the immediate vicinity - cash-cropping on a large scale is ruled out because of the proximity of the border - it is likely that more and more men will be induced to work in other areas, where they will take their families, leading eventually to the liquidation of the Waina-Sowanda villages, which are poorly placed to benefit from general economic development.

iii. THE LAND

The Waina-Sowanda census area lies in a depression between the Bewani Mountains, to the north, and the Border motmtains to the south. A ridge (the Awsis) demarcates the northern boundary of the Waina-Sowanda village territories: the Wasengla valley, over the watershed, is controlled by the Walsa villages. To the south, the country shelves away towards Amanab. The many small rivers and creeks arc all tributaries of the Hordern river, which enters the Sepik itself cast of Green river patrol post, some 40 miles to the south. On all sides, the country is hilly and broken, though not mountainous. To the cast, the land becomes more and more marshy and the rivers drain north into the Bembi. The main rivers - which are not properly marked on any map available at present, arc shown on the sketch map of the Umeda area. From the air, the Waina-Sowanda area looks quite flat; the dense tree cover concealing the many minor corrugations, the rocky limestone outcrops breaking through the prevailing friable mudstone, the steep gullies, marshy depressions and so on which make walking in the area more tiresome, especially in the wet season, than an aerial impression would seem to suggest.

The geology of the area - recent yellowish sedimentary deposits - may be responsible for its low fertility, as compared for instance to limestone areas, and still more so areas on the Sepik with volcanic soils which support heavy populations. The poor drainage and low altitude (c. 900 feet) also means very malarial conditions, further contributing to the low population density.

The prevailing vegetation of the area is dense primary forest. There are no grassland areas, though in some intensively cultivated areas, especially in the vicinity of permanent hamlet ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Series Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Acknowledgements
• Contents
• Figures
• 1. The Umeda Setting
• 2. The Social Structure of Umeda Village
• 3. Language and Symbolism
• 4. The ‘IDA’ Fertility Ritual
• 5. Analysis of the ‘IDA’, Ritual
• Appendix: The PUL-TOD Myth
• List of Works Cited
• Index