Thanks to Australian/ Indonesian contacts I was able to contact Pak Heri in Australia. He was one of the Flores teachers who stayed with us in 2003. Pak Frans was the other but unfortunately had been unable to contact him.
We were picked up by Pak Heri and had lunch and dinner with him through his contacts he contacted Pak Frans to meet us in Wolawaru about 20K from Kelimutu.
We saw Pak Frans face it was the same gentle kind strong face I remembered. We were picked up by motorbike from Wolowaru and driven along the small and often ‘jelek road to kampung Wolotoi Jopu. The views are spectacular huge stands of bamboo, bananas, jungle style trees, cacao and kemiri. Most of the roads have steep sides no guard rails etc etc the occasional red and white Roudup sign is stapled to a tree (Monsanto is infiltrating a predominantly chemical free mountain area).
When we arrived there was a fresh burial near Pak Fran’s house. Only two days before his 14 year old niece had died. So in the middle of their sadness – two bules (whities)arrived!!!! There was an orange tarp put up with about twenty plastic chairs around where their niece had been buried. Wax from candles was in piles over her burial site from where they had been praying the night before.
We arrived and had lunch together – Prior to lunch I was offered a sarong to wear obviously a lot more fitting than the clothes I was wearing for a woman of my age!
Chairs were brought into the traditional house beams with split bamboo laid over them for the floor. It was suggested to bring the chairs and a table inside so that we felt comfortable. That was the last time that happened it didn’t feel right.
The first night the rosary was held all the family involved even those that hadn’t started school. The young ones played with the candles making sure they stayed alight and joined in with the prayers many people just huddled around the burial site. Flores is a predominantly Catholic island.
It was cooler at night – people wearing their sarongs in many different ways over their heads, over one shoulder, just huddling up under it. Inside Fran’s house it was warmer with the family. Above the cooking fires it is smoke stained the cooking is done inside – there were spaces for two cooking fires on either side of the living area maybe when a lot of food needs to be cooked.
Washing for the village- there is a small road that goes through the village every day a small mini bus goes through and motorbikes going to market or wherever. It is on the side of this small road where the main washing of clothes and people happen. In the afternoon when there are a lot of people its boys/men on one side and girls and women on the other. It is all done very privately wearing your sarong. All the water is carried to the houses everyday from the main water source.
It is a traditional weaving village it is one of the main sources of income for the villagers. They also form an important part of rituals eg when someone dies uncooked rice and a sarong is taken to the house of the family with a death.
Pinang Betel nut custom; it is traditional for women to offer pinang to other women when they arrive. Always the basket comes out with the green fruit of a tree with a long fruit and lime. In the house the bamboo had some convenient spots for spitting through the floor. Mostly it is outside but it does get cold.
Men seem to offer cigarettes when friends/visitors arrive.
We experienced many things but what struck me most was that all Pak Fran’s family opened their hearts to us in a time of great sadness.
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