*Gore alert* Don’t read this if you are squeamish.

We’ve hired a scooter, but can’t start it aaagh it’s too modern and you can’t start it till you’ve put the stand up. It’s a super powerful 125cc step through. This is the big bike.

Steve hits his knees when he turns the handlebars. And later when I have to get off for some tricky manoeuvre he says “oh it’s so much lighter, it doesn’t scrape on the humps.

“Oh I remember I used to harrass you.” I said to Steve as I climbed on behind. “You still do” he said. “Just differently.”

Petrol station queue.

We are off to a funeral with a guide Daud. It is day two of a three day funeral/ pesta kematian/ rambu solo. And I’m really not sure about this

I don’t really want to be a tourist at a family event… or see an animal slaughtered.

But our Torajan guide said this is very important. Well, we think, we have a scooter we can leave.

A funeral is the biggest event in the Torajan culture. Bigger than weddings.

And they say this is the most expensive place in the world to die…

We understand we have to take cigarettes . We ask our guide if we can take something else. We don’t like cigarettes we say. we try to suggest something elseBut they must share cigarettes with the guests, is the unwavering reply from Daud

Oh well, ten packets of coffin nails is good for the funeral business. I can feel like I’m contributing to the next one.

There is a traffic jam at the village, caused by the trucks that brought the pigs and buffaloes

There is a tax on the animals that are used in the funeral and there are govt officers sitting at the entrance to record the animals brought in.

There will probably be about 15 buffaloes slaughtered and 60 80 pigs.

The first thing that assails you is is the squeal of pigs. That phrase squealing like a stuck pig well it’s an awful noise high and loud and desperate. As I come around a narrow corner I am startled to find myself in the way of several men carrying a large squealing pig. They plant it on the ground behind me, pull its front leg forward and then stick it between the ribs. hopefully straight into the heart. One stab. The noise stops immediately. The” sticking” is clearly well done, The butcher knows exactly what he is about. Most of the pigs bleed out and die very quickly. One or two however don’t move but do keep quietly breathing for some time.

Some pigs have already been killed and are being blow torched to burn the skin off.

The very special buffaloes are brought out into the arena.

The ones that have white and black and are rare are very valuable.

They are sprayed with water to keep cool.

Daud tells us they can be worth a years salary. There is just one of these ones.

Pigs clearly don’t have the same status and lay panting in the heat. All the pigs trussed up here must be utterly stressed. They can smell the fear and hear other pigs scream- sqealing and the burning..

And then the fireworks go off. One of the poor frightened pigs in terror managed to jump and bounce itself into the next group even though it’s legs are tied and then pushed itself half under the pile.

The space is enormous with bamboo buildings on three sides of an arena. There is seating space for many hundreds of people and a raised tower/house for the coffin

for however long it takes to collect money and buffaloes for a funeral.

Our guide introduced us to the daughter. We sat and had cakes and coffee

This privilege is probably because I can speak bahasa

I gave my donation to the daughter pulling it out of the plastic bag as I did. Plastic bags are tacky right? She then had to put it back in a plastic bag that someone else provided. Because actually plastic bags are useful.

Her mother died four years ago.

But she is not considered dead until removed from the home, for the funeral .So for that four years ,She is just very sick and sleeping

The dead/ sleeping sick person is kept in the house in a bedroom. If there is room they have a seperate room otherwise they stay in the same room as the family sleep in. During this time she must be given food. It doesn’t smell says Daud- Now they have formalin to treat the body. Formerly they wrapped the body in leaves and cloth

Then there is a performance of wailing and flutes . Sounds of grief. An eerie keening.

There is nothing of the tawdry gratuitous spectacleDefinitely important .Most people were beautifully dressed mostly dressed up in sarongs .lots of black . Red andgold

Then some women gathered immediately in front of us. The women women began drumming into a long wooden rice barrel. Communal rice threshing. This was really lovely. Deep mellow sound and good beats

There is a master of ceremonies with a microphone. A story of the woman’s life is told

And there is a running commentary announcing donations from people and villages. Animals are paraded. And the accounting is done. it is recorded for the family so they can reciprocate in the future and the buffaloes get initials spray painted on them

and then all the important guests are acknowledged and the family come to offer them bowls of sweets and drinks.

While in the house the body is laid east-west and when taken out of the house is laid north-south. The spirit will head south and the Buffaloes help transport the spirit.

The buildings around the arena are temporary. It is enormous. It took three or four weeks to build and a lot of helpers and the family had to provide pigs to feed them and then it is all dismantled.

Apart from the pigs being roughly treated the whole event felt reverent and special and sociable

The day used to finish with a cockfight. That is now illegal, not for the sake of the roosters but to stop the gambling. “It happens away ”says Daud. And later we were overtaken by two motor bikes travelling together and each of their pillion riders had a rooster tucked under their arm.

when they were sharing the meat some was given to our guide (he is Torajan) he had it on his bike for hours