Don Porget

I am not quite sure how to describe the haps at the moment. Drinking decently brewed coffee with a fully belly of potatoes and fruit, sitting in the Sagita hotel lobby watching the Copa America is just more evidence that I am no longer in Nehas Liah Bing. Spending five hours editing a little video for the ethnoecological team just helped allure to the feeling of still being within the community. Yet, reality kicks in, and I am leaving Indonesia tomorrow.
The last days in Nehas were spent enjoying the company of the relationships we kindled through out our stay in the village. I spent most of my time simply hanging around my family and absorbing as much time with them as possible. The second day after being back, was a day that simply can only be described as epic. With my father and nephew Pilu, we started making our Hudoq costumes which is a traditional Wehea Dayak dance that involves invoking the spirits and communicating with them to bring good luck and prosperity. The costumes are layers upon layers of banana leaves fringed giving the costume a façade of feathered reeds dancing in the air. My father is a master dancer, and has been dancing his entire life. He was traveled to the Wehea Forest, Bali and many other places to ceremoniously dance Hudoq, and his grandson Pilu is well on his way to being a master himself. We finished the constumes and the next day donned them along with traditional Hudoq masks that my father carved himself. They are unbelievably beautiful and frightening, and if you see him dance you’d believe he was possessed by spirits through the ferocity of each motion he produces. The three of us including Nathan in regular traditional Dayak garb, adorned with our costumes set out to dance in the village. With multitudes of individuals gathering to watch the Buleh move, quite a crowd assembled as we flapped and danced, moving our arms and feet to the rhythm of the gong beating just outside of us. It was so much fun, and was such a great experience that I am so honored my father would go through with the effort in making the costumes and teaching me how to dance. Always with a smile on his face, he continues to astound me in how kind and loving he is. The community is truly something unique and unheard of.
In our last night we had a presentation to explain our findings and about our research to the community. It was so nice to be able to communicate to the entire village about how lucky and touched I felt to have spent so much time among them, and attempt to explain how thankful I am for opening their arms both literally figuratively. We presented for nearly two hours, followed by a quite changed into traditional outfits, and traditional dancing for another two hours. It was a perfect way to sum up our experience in the village, and spend the evening dancing and enjoying everyone’s company. The next morning I spent relaxing with my family, giving gifts and suveniers to villagers. What definitely broke my heart was when my nephews Pilu and Togok interrupted one of Squidward’s manical speeches in Spong Bob Square Pants to attempt to tell me something. They handed me a piece of paper that had the words, “don porget mai pameli.” How could I forget his/theirs/my family? They really were the sweetest boys in the world. Saying goodbyes were unbelievably difficult. It was so difficult to leave when villagers all crowed the TNC awaiting our departure. Wile I may not have had the words to tell them that I promised I would come back to them, and a promise is a promise, I may not know right away when, but I know I will.
We were able to meet with BP Wehea in Sangata and the Governor of East Kalimantan in San Marinda yesterday, both meetings being quite unique and difficult. I was able to present along with Steven for the Ethnoecological team, and met some very interesting individual, including one who would be a great foot in the door for cultural preservation.
With finally a full day to do what we please, I spend all night editing and now am in desperate need of a nap, dozing off as a write this novella of a blog post. Just know that while I am so sad to have leave this beautifully rich and diverse country, I cannot wait to see some friends and family. Miss you all, I hope all is well.

Paul