Vanishing Tattoo -- Trip Updates
A Tribal Diary -- Borneo


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Update 5

Still... Monday, November 13th, 2000 -- Vince Hemingson

A brief history of Iban head-hunting. From conversations with most Westerners you'd think the tribes of Borneo hacked heads of left and right willy-nilly.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The Iban believe that the world is divided into the conscious world we see and the spirit world. Both worlds are intertwined and connected and it is crucial to navigate both with caution and care.

According to the beliefs of the Iban, the soul of a person resides in their head. By taking someone else's head you capture their soul, and concurrently their status, strength, skill and power. In effect you have added it to your own. And once you have taken a head, it must be respected and venerated. Very seldom would the Iban take just any head, unless they were actively at war. Preferably they wanted the head of someone who's status and rank surpassed their own. The heads that Thomas and I were shown were displayed in a position of high honor. Offerings were made to the heads on a regular basis, charms hung below them, and smoke wafted over them to keep them warm.

Our long boats pull into the next longhouse on the Skrang, Rumahdau. The Headman here, Penghulu Legan is the headman for the entire Skrang River. Longhouses are measured by their doors, and this one is forty doors long. The one last night, which Thomas and I thought was large, was twenty doors long. David says that in the old days, when the Iban were still headhunting, longhouses were often sixty and even eighty doors long. Safety in numbers.

Thomas offers our gift of the remaining bottle of Smirnoff Blue. We are invited to stay for lunch. David says this is a great honor. Two or three small children run away when they see me. Alice says I am very scary looking. Me? What about Thomas? But the children are too fascinated by Thomas to be scared. They, and all the other Iban are captivated by his tattoos.

In a culture where a man's status is traditionally enhanced by the number of tattoos he has, Thomas is seen as a powerful figure. Legan invites us into his house and we are asked to sign the Guest book. We see a number of other tattoo artists, Hello Captain Caveman!

We talk about The Vanishing Tattoo documentary and are invited back. Soon every adult Iban who has tattoos is gathered around. David tells us that there are no less than TEN Iban men who tattoo in the traditional method.

But we have noticed something potentially devastating for the state of traditional Iban tattooing. All the men we see with tattoos are of David's generation. In their late forties and older. We do not see any new traditional tattoos. The interest of Ed and Simon David in the traditional method of Iban hand tattooing begins to take on a whole new significance.

We ask the old men why they have tattoos. Because it makes them men they say. But why I ask? Tradition has it that when a young Iban man reaches his early twenties he is expected to leave, to go away on an adventure. His first tattoo will be acquired in another long house, far from his own to commemorate his journey or a particular feat of daring or courage.

As the Iban go through life they get tattoos to document the significant events in their lives. At night, these are what fuel the conversations, their tattoos and their journeys. I ask several young men, one 19, if he intends to get tattoos. He doesn't really want tattoos. They aren't modern.

The older men laugh. How can you be a man with out tattoos? I ask the women what they think of the men's tattoos. They laugh as well. The older women say, who would want a man without tattoos? He isn't a real Iban man. David, related to many of these men, and without a single tattoo, laughs as loudly as the rest. But David is different they say. He is from the city. Many of the older Iban admit they try to cover their tattoos when the go to town. This is one reason why the neck tattoo, traditionally the first tattoo an Iban would get has fallen out of favour. A neck tattoo is difficult to cover up.

I ask the younger women if they like men with tattoos, the teenage girls especially. They shrug their shoulders. It makes no difference to them. Not a great incentive for the next generation of young Iban men to get tattoos!

It is time for us to move on, but we are invited back. They offer to tattoo Edward and Simon and myself in a traditional tattooing ritual next time we visit the longhouse...

To be continued...

Monday, November 13th, 2000

It is easy to tell from the river this afternoon that this is the rainy season. Borneo only has two seasons, wet and dry. The river is swollen and brown from run-off. The water boils and churns.

The rapids that Alice had been warning us of do appear to be getting rougher. Our two boats make good progress. Along with Edward and Simon, they have put Thomas and I in one big boat because, as they put it in their own words, we weigh the equivalent of five Iban. Two for Thomas and three for me I suspect. Most of our gear and the rest of our party are in the other boat.

As we struggle our way through one rapid, the stern of the long boat comes out of the water and the prop has no bite. We lose all forward thrust in the swift current. In an instant we are turned sideways and going backwards through the rapids. Sideways, I hasten to add.

We only had six inches of freeboard to begin with and as the boat begins to tip over under the force of the water hitting it full on the side, water pours over the down-current side. The boat driver is shouting orders in Iban. Thomas and I do not speak Iban. But we understand water pouring over the side. We scramble to the other side of the boat.

Suddenly, the prop is back in the water and screaming at full throttle. Now we rocket towards the bank of the river and we are in danger of smashing the bow into the river bank. Where as moments before I had been getting a little bored, this situation now has my full and undivided attention.

Edward and Simon shout at Tom and I in English, "go back, go back!" I thank God for the time Tom and I have spent on the water because we instinctively move towards the stern of the boat. This thrusts the bow of the long boat up and buries the prop deep into the river. The boat driver carves a turn back up river and we all duck to avoid being scraped overboard by overhanging branches and trees along the bank. We've probably averted a disaster by inches.

Within seconds Thomas and I both burst out laughing. It's uncanny how simultaneous it is. It's a potent combination of relief, adrenalin and the ense of adventure that drew us to this project in the first place. We both feel very much alive at this moment. And then I remember that neither of us has a life jacket on. When I mention this to Tom, we both laugh harder...

To be continued...

Skulls from heads taken in the past

Thomas... glad he still has his head

Iban elder in traditional costume

War dance with head taking sword

Simon David checks out the rapids ahead

Water coming in over the side of boat... near disaster

After the big wave and we are still alive!

Thomas relaxes now as we head further up the Skrang River


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