deds

Back in July, my grandmother's sister Bumbu Margaret died a day after we visited her. The visit was actually very pleasant considering the circumstances that the feeling of upcoming death brings to the air. Everyone was in good spirits and talked about the peaceful departure that was near. Old age deaths are still sad here, but I've noticed that they are accepted with the understanding that life and death both happen. There's still uncomfortable amounts of wailing and the 100 day ritual, but something is sacred about living to an old age here. 

Bumbu Margaret lived in Lolobui, about 30 minutes down the main road and up a small hill. Here's a fun fact to start your day with: Bui means bamboo in language and it has also come to mean knife. Bamboo was used as spears and knives long before the metal version came around. Maybe my sense of fun has changed, but I was delighted when I made that connection and had it confirmed!

Lolobui is home to about 30 people. They have an awesome swing made from an anchor's chain that my uncle salvaged after a shipwreck in Lolowai during a cyclone. Because i didn't know my place in this intimate situation, I spent most of the day on the swing reliving childhood happiness. Swings man! What a liberating feeling. And a view that made it that much better- Lolobui sits on a hill overlooking the saltwater. The occasional nakavika falling on my head was worth the daydream delight I was swinging in!

About a month later, my grandmother's other sister Bumbu Mata passed away. Although I only met Bumbu Mata a few times, I knew she was a cool lady. Her and her late husband lived on a coconut plantation by themselves, so when he passed away, it was her living in complete solitude. She looked after the land, animals, and herself for many years. 

Bumbu Margaret had a village to manage the 100 day ded ritual, but Bumbu Mata had no children, so my aunts and mama stepped in. Since the ded, Mami Green Thumb, Mami Corina and her husband (and others in and out) have been living at Mata's house in Lololiso and are helping with the traditions. 

What are these ded rituals I keep talking about? It's pretty amazing really. On one hand it's an exhausting, time consuming burden on the community, but on the other hand, it's a ancient tradition that honors the life of the deceased. 

For every 5 days until the 100 day anniversary of the dead, the community celebrates with food and kava. These gatherings are called bongis, the local word for "day" and in Vanuatu they're referred to as "deds." Every 5 days, lap lap is cooked, kava is grounded (ground? grinded? a grammar mystery), and people come together in the name of the person who died! The 10 day bongi is a big one where they reveal the grave, a really Big Deal. Graves here are above ground cement or rock structures. My mama explained that when her papa was dying, he told them to build his grave in a place where children could play on it and men could sit, drink kava, and storian. The graves become mini gathering places to connect with the one who died. A different way to think about a grave. Pretty interesting! 

In northeast Ambae, the 10, 25, 50, and 100 day anniversaries seem to be the more important bongis. The community kills extra cows, chickens, and pigs to cook with the laplap and the kava is more plentiful than usual, from what I've taken in. These take more mamas and more time to prepare for because the fresh buluk and strong ded kava brings people out of the wood work. I don't blame em! By the way, ded kava is the best. It's stronger (mixed with less water) and there's more than enough to go around if the person who passed was a kava head or a chief. But! every rose has its thorn... if you're drinking ded kava, you parcel up your food in banana leaves and eat it later because you aren't supposed to eat until you're finished drinking. So the steaming hot laplap doesn't get to be enjoyed until its lost its touch. You win some, you lose some!

We went up to Lololiso for a couple of the bongis, usually after school. Since being on Ambae, I've learned that, "Hey let's go to so-and-so's house for a few hours!" Really means "Let's hike for 30 minutes to an hour+ uphill and then come back when its pitch black! Don't forget your headlamp!" Some of the details are implied because they know that everywhere we go takes an uphill hike and we're always staying for longer than a few hours. Now I never leave the house without the travelin essentials-   a full water bottle, headlamp, and toilet paper!

On the 40th I decided to go early and help my Mami Green Thamb with the preparations. Here she is with her posse, including me. One of the toughest women I've met! 

woman Ambae! those are bag of kumala (sweet potatoes) on her back and her head

We hiked through the hills of plantations. Plantations are like land mines, but in the sky. Sky mines. When a coconut falls, it usually barely makes a sound. You don't want one of those falling on your head! For the most part, you forget about the chance of this happening, but when the wind starts to pick up, I become more strategic with my path. I don't think I'll ever have the sixth sense that comes with living in plantation nation!

The dogs had a field day! Fighting over coconuts, sprinting through the footpaths, barking obnoxiously at the grazing cows, and finally passing the f out when we got to the house. I did the same about a few hours later!

lololiso plantation

mus man taking a break

fighting over the one out of 8230927 coconut husks lying around

When these women come together for a bongi or a wedding, they turn into a nonstop machine! It's amazing to watch. They were very grateful for my assistance even though I was more like a rusty hand crank trying to keep up with their years of finely tuned machine-like ways. 

riano and rialdo watching me take a nap

bumbu mata's house

there's a shit load of laplap under this!
covered in leaves and burlap and everything else to keep the earth oven hot

papa and o'brien

mami delila (pronounced da-lee-la) putting the milk on the laplap taro my favorite!!

After a day of preparations, it was time to eat! The spread was unbelievable. For laplaps: banana with coconut milk, two taro ones with milk (my favorite, locally called sala vatu) manioc with milk already mixed in (called waro quihi) manioc with island cabbage on top (lulu) kumala with milk, and manioc with cabbage and veggies cooked on top (waro sombe) That's a ridiculous amount of laplap! 

To top it off (literally) we had pig, flying fox, crab, chicken, and fish. This was a dream! I'd never seen such a wild variety of everything for our belly enjoyment! And that it was. 

you are what you eat

mouth-watering goodness

how do you spell bongi? Y-U-M