Death Is Everything to the Living on this Indonesian Island

A funeral in South Sulawesi is a truly unique experience. Visit the Indonesian island to find out more about its rituals and join locals – both dead and alive – on the final journey.

 

- Mark Stratton

A year after passing away, Yohana Sidempa was ready for the afterlife. Under the horned eaves of the Toraja clan house in Malakiri, her rambu solo (funeral ceremony) had commenced. Her mummified body lay within a four-metre-tall duba-duba, a litter gilded with icons of buffalos and roosters around which her encircled clan chanted a rowdy requiem.

Six albino buffalo headed her cortége followed by black-clothed relatives draped under a lengthy scarlet cloth, symbolically hauling her towards the spirit world. The atmosphere was fervid; but it was also joyful, not morose. There was mayhem whenever the top-heavy duba-duba threatened to topple over in transit, while handfuls of banknotes were scattered like confetti, prompting money-grabbing free-for-alls. The cortége’s staccato progress was driven by the jingle-jangle rhythm of Javanese dancing horses wearing bells.

Don’t think me morbid, but in mountainous Tana Toraja (‘Land of the Toraja’) in South Sulawesi I was actively seeking funerals. The rambu solo is arguably the greatest remaining spectacle of ancestral worship on the planet. Christianity may have tempered Torajan belief in ‘Aluk Todolo’ (‘Way of the Ancestors’), but their culture continues to transcend many taboos regarding death. Deceased relatives can be declared ‘sick’ and remain within the family home for years before burial, while cadavers are sometimes removed from tombs to be washed and given new clothes.