Being Dusun

Metaphorically speaking- body parts

2012-02-11T22:29:00.004+08:00

By now when a member of the community says a sundait (riddle) that conjures up an erotic image, I no longer blush. Being much older (and wiser? :)), I decided that I can take it. But long time ago when I was a growing child, one of the most awkward moments was to hear people say such sundaits. Nowadays, I can appreciate the clever ways of language play using body parts that the Dusun people use in their riddles.

I suddenly came across some of them as I was reading a book called Warisan Budaya Sabah: Etnisiti dan Masyarakat, and feel compelled to share them here. Mind you, if you are used to people using polite language all the time, you might experience a minor shock attack as you read some of these!

Sundait 1-

Wangkangonku gakod nu, posuangonku watangku, osonong opurimanan.
(I spread your legs, I enter my log, oh how wonderful)
Answer: Spectacles

Sundait 2-

Kitundu-undu o tulu-
(There's a heart on top of the head)
Answer: Banana blossom

Sundait 3-
Aiso kabang aiso busul
(No mouth, no anus)
Answer: Leech

Sundait 4-
Osodu ko po om rubaon ko do tulang
(From a distance, bone meets you)
Answer: Teeth

Sundait 5-
Milapus-lapus kito, mitirung-tirung kito, au kopikito nga kopilapus
(We penetrate each other, we hide from each other, unable to see (each other) but still able to penetrate each other)
Answer: Ears

Sundait 6-
Iso tulu, onom hakod, kombit-kombiton yi odu-odu yi aki-aki
(One head, six legs, strummed by the grandmothers and the grandfathers)
Answer: Tongkungon (a musical instrument)

Sundait 7:
"Tik" ka llo mantik, panakalamou poo
("Tik", the 'mantik' slides on the thigh)
Answer: Matches

Sundait 8:
Monguni susu di odu
(Grandmother's breast produces sound)
Answer: Sompoton (a type of musical instrument)

Sundait 9:
Iduon garung, okito hulu. Iduon hulu, okito tonsi. Iduon tonsi, okito puun.
(Take off the clothes, the hair is seen. Remove the hair, the flesh is seen. Remove the flesh, the stem is seen)
Answer: Corn

Sundait 10:
Poingundul o tonsilot.
(The clitoris is erected)
Answer: Tobacco chew

(These sundaits are courtesy of Mr Lokman Abdul Samad, a colleague at UMS-translation, my own and the mistakes are all mine!)

If you ask me if I am good at this kind of language, I'd have to humbly admit that I don't. (Once, the hubby said "you are supposed to be good at this" but how can I when I did not grow up in that environment?) I wish I am. As most aspects of the culture slip through my fingers, the only thing I can do now is to appreciate and keep what little I know...

Small town politeness

2012-01-13T20:26:00.003+08:00

My father doesn't read blogs so I have no qualms writing about him :). He is the epitome of polite Dusuns; small town style. He'd greet anyone, known or unknown to him with the typical Dusun pleasantries like 'hombo ngoyon nu?' (where are you going?), and 'hiti ko pama iya ddi' (you are here also). I often find it funny greeting somebody you hardly know in places like hospitals or restaurants, but to my father, it is 'the right thing to do'. "After all", he reasons, "you are sharing the same space as the person, so you can't be just ignoring one another".

Sometimes he goes overboard. Like the day when he was at a restaurant in Kota Kinabalu with two of my brothers. They had breakfast and when they left, my father nicely wished his next- table-neighbours a polite "makanlah kamu" (enjoy your meal) "kami mau pigi bank ini" (we are going to the bank). Needless to say, it was both hilarious and embarrassing to my brothers. They joked about it for many days!

But the worst I've experienced with his over-politeness tendency was when we were attending a session in which my father's land dispute was heard by some officers. While waiting to be called in, he noticed this lone guy sitting opposite him on the bench outside the office. He politely offered his hand to the guy (well, shaking hands is another indication of politeness) and said "hiti ko pama iya ddi" (you are also here) as if he knew him. To my horror, once inside the dispute hearing room, we found out that the guy was the one my father was versing in the case! If I were my father, I'd have been so uncomfortable that I'd have difficulty responding appropriately to the discussion. It's a good thing that my father didn't seem to have been affected.

I suppose his kind of politeness is the simple kind. Words uttered politely and sincerely at that point of time, and even if those words are spoken to the wrong person, he has got nothing to lose.

The wisdom of 'kuroyon poh' (acceptance)

2011-12-24T12:44:00.003+08:00

I guess in many culture there is a concept that is equivalent to the Dusun's kuroyon poh (acceptance). Although it sounds lame, I learned yesterday that there is a wisdom in it.

Well, being pick-pocketed isn't something anyone would want to happen to them. But when it happened, it happened. And of all the time, it happened to me on 23.12.2011, two days before christmas, just as I was in the high spirit of completing my christmas shopping. I can blame myself for being careless if I want to actually, because after all the years living in KL, I should know that it is a bad idea to carry so much cash and put all the cards in one place, but I did anyway. So all my cards and christmas shopping money were gone :(.

Somehow, the concept kuroyon poh surfaced and kept me sane. I guess underlying that is the knowing that there are things that you just cannot change, thus the best thing you could do is to accept them. By doing that, you feel better, knowing that there was nothing you could do to change it now. (and in my case, it would be once bitten twice shy!) Of course the situation is not fun at all but at least I'm not making it worst by whining and regretting. And I still intend to have a good christmas despite that. Who knows next year I might get better luck?

Wherever you are, have yourselves a very merry holiday, whether or not you celebrate christmas :)

A session with Langkawit

2011-12-03T22:37:00.003+08:00

Langkawit is a household name in Sabah, at least among the Kadazan/Dusun people. A delightful cartoonist, his cartoons are loved by many including yours truly.

Yesterday I had the chance to finally meet him in person, and it was extra special because he came as a guest teacher in the Kadazandusun class we offer to UMS staff. It was my turn to teach yesterday, so I took the chance to promote his coming to my colleagues, the Langkawit fan clubbers.

So Langkawit came and we had him draw cartoons on the white board for 30 minutes. In line with our theme, 'emotion words', he cleverly drew scenes that involved emotional outbursts and that led to the learning of some very good verbs. The cartoons were just wonderful I didn't have the heart to rub them off the board after the session was over. Next week someone is going to have a pleasant surprise (hopefully!) when they walk in the classroom...

At the end of the session, we had an autograph session. And I am now a proud owner of two latest Langkawit comic books, autographed, naturally!

Why oh why?

2011-10-28T22:19:00.004+08:00

Sometimes I get so used to reading Dusun news items translated from Malay that I forgot to react when I see that the sentence structures look more Malay than Dusun. Other times when I am in my Kadazandusun teacher-mode, I feel quite upset and wish that writers are more aware of what they are doing. But then again, no one of the current working Kadazan/Dusun people ever did learn Kadazan/Dusun grammar in school so I can't really blame them, can I?

Somehow it still bothers me. When someone decided that s/he would become a Kadazan/Dusun journalist, I believe s/he should be aware that a Kadazan/Dusun sentence begins with a verb, not a 'subject' (or whatever the elements are called). Unless of course the 'subject' is brought to the front, and followed by 'nopo nga' that functions like 'ialah/adalah' in Malay or the copular be in English. Even then it would still need to be followed by further information for the subject.

So "The people are happy" should be
Ounsikou (state verb) i(determiner) tongoulun(person.plural)

or tongoulun nopo nga ongounsikou... (the people are happy...) followed by further information

not
tongoulun(person.plural) ounsikou (happy)

The thing is, I see more and more of this careless way of writing nowadays. People don't seem to make the effort of appreciating the natural elements of the language they are using, and to me it's sad. Or could it be because boundaries between languages living side by side are getting more blurred?

(Note: This is written during one of my grumpy moods. Must be due to reading too many awkward KD sentences)

A little gift goes a long way

2011-10-03T20:48:00.003+08:00

Today I silently thank Rev. Fr. Bruno of the Ranau Catholic Parish for having given me a Dusun bible some years ago. It was the time I started getting serious in my Bundu Dusun language analysis to aid my understanding of how the language works in order to create better teaching and learning materials for the students.(The work continues on, although there have been a lot of halts along the way.)

Many might think what has a bible got to do with this? But it actually does a lot for me. I especially realize it today when I was translating some personality quiz materials for my students to try out in the classroom. (God knows a language classroom without elements of fun in it can 'kill' the teacher and students!). Many words in the personality test, as expected, are adjectives describing people. Needless to say, it is so difficult to find the equivalents in Dusun.

I was giving up on the translation when I remembered to look in the bible. I thought if I typed in the words I was looking for in the online bible website, I'd be able to check them in the dusun bible. I took it from the shelf, and started my project. True enough, words such as 'loving, gentle and kind' are shown in many verses and I was able to check them up in the Dusun bible. Who would have thought that the word 'gentle' that I was still not able to translate after an hour was easily found?(and it's 'alamaya' by the way)

My self-lesson today: never take religious texts for granted. Even if you are not reading them to 'hear the words of God', you can certainly learn languages from them, the way the languages are used by the community .

My next target is to get my hands on the Islamic hadis translation in Dusun. I think there has to be one, because I used to hear the Friday sermon (khutbah Jumaat) being read in the Dusun radio station. It would be interesting to see how the two religious communities speaking the same language translate the language.

Thank you Fr. Bruno. You have given me a gift that I would be able to use in many areas of my life.

An ER story from a Dusun village

2011-09-27T19:22:00.003+08:00

I was reminded of this story as I prepared my Kadazandusun teaching materials last night. This semester I have the opportunity to handle a KD class for a group of medical students who are of non-KD ethnic groups, and naturally I need to relate the lessons to some elements of medic, much that I don't have much knowledge on the field. As I like to have games as part of my classroom activities, I decided to create something called THE BEST GUESS. In this game, the students are divided into groups and each group is asked to guess the meaning of a text, supposedly a medical complaint of a patient. The group that provides the best guess gets a reward, of course.

One of the complaints was derived from a real-life story that my youngest brother witnessed last year. He accompanied my father to the Emergency Room in Ranau Hospital one evening when my father suddenly got stung by an unknown insect. As my brother waited in the waiting area while my father was being examined by the doctor, an elderly lady was wheeled in by her grandson. For some reason the lady's demeanor reminded my brother of our late grandmother, so he unashamedly eavesdropped on the lady's conversation with her grandson.

The lady looked around, decided that it was safe for her to speak in Dusun without anyone understanding her (my brother has Chinese features and he is always mistaken for one), and started telling her grandson this: "Don't you ever tell the doctor the truth about why I am not able to walk. Just tell him I fell over. Never mention at all that I got run over by a buffalo because it is so embarrassing!"

My brother found it so funny he had to go out to prevent himself from laughing out loud. It was not because of the fact that the little old lady was run over by a buffalo, but because she was so embarrassed by the fact that it happened to her, and tried so hard to cover it up.

It made for a nice guessing game...my students could never imagine that a buffalo can actually run over a person that they translate the text as : "I can't walk and I rode a buffalo...:)"

The funeral of a lady who taught me about the Dusun's death ritual

2011-09-18T11:12:00.000+08:00

Rest in peace ginan Lucy Lotimboi. I attended her funeral yesterday. For the first time ever, I attended a Dusun funeral that was most peaceful. There was no mogihad (weeping ritual for the deceased) although it was obvious that her loved ones were crying quietly. I shed some tears myself. It's quite strange because I hadn't really known the lady for so long, but it must have been because I was remembering her kindness. She was my husband's aunt by marriage and I've been marriedto him for 15 years but I didn't get the chance to see that side of the family that often. But she had carved herself a place in my heart, mainly because of her kindness. Whenever we visited, she would make me feel at home. And a few months ago, she had been very kind to be willing to share with me her knowledge about some Dusun rituals- especially on death custom.

I looked at her peaceful face as I paid my last respect. Silently I thank her for everything and bade her good bye. For a few seconds, I got the sensation that she was smiling with joy as she said good bye to everyone. At the mass, the priest comforted her family members by saying that although it is inevitable that death brings grief, it should be looked at as a new life, almost a celebration that the deceased is now in heaven with her loved ones. He said that the deceased's last request to her family members, "don't cry for me" was indeed very wise. Send her off with 'joy' because she wouldn't want anyone she left behind to be sad.

Her funeral was so different from the Dusun funerals she described to me (and I've attended some like those she described too). Of course some traditions to do with death were still observed like 'not allowed to take green vegetables' because green signifies life, or that before the body was buried somebody has to keep vigil all the time, so people still play cards and drink the whole night long the night before. But there was no lingering feeling of doom like what I've experienced in some funerals before.

In the next few days till the seventh day, her family members would still observe certain traditions: no music, mongotomou (hanging green leaves outside of the house to ward off bad spirits), and on the seventh day there would be the popotongkiad (farewelling) ritual that would involve magauh (putting ash on a little plate so that when her soul is called to come over and take all her belongings, she could leave a little mark that means "I have come" on the plate of ash), and momisok (turning off light- that's when her sould would be called to come over). All these would be incorporated in the Catholic rites that she had embraced along with her family members.

Rest in peace ginan Lucy Lotimboi. You will be missed.

The insect that can tell the weather

2011-09-09T06:41:00.004+08:00

Of course it sounds ridiculous, but indigenous people have many nature-based ways of forecasting the weather- plants, insects etc. Last Hari Raya holiday, while visiting neighbours one morning, I saw an insect that looks like this outside somebody's door:

"Kotondu moti kaka ti do rumasam ko amu" (This insect can tell whether or not it will rain), my mom said to me. "Really?" I asked with great amusement. "Yes, ask it whether it would shine this afternoon. If it will, the insect will nod", my mom encouraged me confidently. Oh well. No harm in pleasing my mom. So I asked the bug this question aloud: "inda, magadau do baino?" (well, is it going to shine today?)

I waited for it to nod. Nothing happened. I asked louder. Still nothing happened. The bug kept still with its long feelers outstretched. I decided to ask one last time, just to please my mom who was looking expectantly. Making sure my pitch was twice as higher than before, I asked really loud "inda, magadau do baino!!!!?". Mom must have been shocked because she decided to come closer to have a look at the bug.

"Oh, actually I got the wrong insect. This is not Paku Ngadau (the supposedly clever bug name)", Mom declared as soon as she had had a better look at it! Ha ha...I'd been asking it a question for nothing. Luckily no one was around to witness the silly encounter :) But it was quite disappointing that I didn't get to test whether this particular indigenous belief was believable after all.

On Dusun Wedding-again

2011-09-02T21:17:00.004+08:00

(pic courtesy of my cousin on his reception day in 2009)

This Raya season, I managed to kill two birds with one stone. I visited an aunty who has only been a convert for about 10 years. I've always found her intriguing, as before her conversion she used to be a healer, even almost a bobolian 'traditional healer'. (She told me she never did reach the bobolian stage, as apparently there's a lot of chants to be memorized and she couldn't do that. Come to think of it, Bobolians must be people who, in modern understanding, have linguistic intelligence among other things). For someone who's not a full bobolian, Aunty R knows a lot of rituals.

Anyway, this time around, I asked her about her wedding day, as part of my project of looking at the changes in the Dusun wedding customs practised in Ranau since the 1950s. It's a bonus that her wedding took place in 1960- just what I'd been looking for to complete my current data of 1950s and 1970s.

By the time she got married, the earlier practice of conducting wedding rituals at night was done away with. In the 1950s, marriages were still pretty much arranged, without the consent of any of the wedded parties. Parents cleverly arranged for their children to be married (and kept it a secret), and on the day of the wedding the ritual would be conducted either against protest from the children, or with their total submission. More often than not, the marriage ended in divorce.

Aunty R agreed to her marriage, being fully aware of what was taking place. When the momuhaboi (asking for her hand in marriage) ceremony was conducted, she was allowed to listen to the discussion and state her 'terms and conditions', something that was unheard of in those years. Her wedding day took place at 5pm, instead of at night, as it was normally done. The two things that didn't change, by her own account, was the tapai (rice-wine) drinking session (they still made a lot of tapai to feast on), and the tondiadi (exchanges of wedding poetic forms).

Indeed, the tondiadi was the signature of Dusun weddings then, but by the time my parents got married in the 1970s, it was all gone.

Keningau, Tenom and the westcoast of Sabah: a weekend journey

2011-08-30T07:13:00.014+08:00

Last weekend was my first trip to Tenom. Unbelievable but true. We attended a wedding in Keningau. Stayed overnight at this resort with the most beautiful view, called Hillview Garden Resort:

We went to the wedding at Kg.Senagang and experienced a Dusun culture that was slightly different from my own community's. For one thing, we do not have to drink tapai from large tajau(s) like these in weddings. And the people there can sing and actually enjoy(understand) Murut songs, while people in my place can only appreciate Dusun, English, Malay and occasionally Chinese songs in weddings.

We went back to KK via Tenom-Sipitang road. A stopover at Tenom was very refreshing. Had breakfast at one of the little old restaurants that serves the freshest Tenom stuffed taufu. And the freshly prepared chilli sauce was superb.

One's visit to Tenom isn't complete without including Tenom Botanical Garden. We were lucky as there were not many visitors on that Sunday, so we were shown around by a friendly guide in a buggy car. Among other things that I find really interesting is this little berry called the miracle fruit:

We were told that the seed hailed all the way from Africa. The guide gave us some sour citrus to suck, then gave us the berries. You peel off the skin, pop it in your mouth, and the miracle begins. Any sour thing you take after that will taste sweet, like butter candies. A cousin send me this link that explains about the miracle fruit.

We went pass Sipitang, Beaufort, Membakut, and Papar before we finally arrived at KK. It was a long journey, but one that I wish to repeat very soon. For some reason, I'd like to go back to Tenom and explore the little town that is so clean and fresh.

Tanak Kampung

2011-08-26T06:45:00.002+08:00

Remember the'carrot' and 'stick' thingy that people use to refer to motivation? Well, I learnt yesterday that 'the carrot' comes in many forms. One of them is this song Tanak kampung by Jimmy palikat:

The year 2 son refused to study for his test. I've tried bribing him with money the day before but it didn't work. Then I heard him trying really hard to sing this song- in Dusun. No doubt, to impress some friends in school. So I asked him whether he would like to revise his three subjects in exchanged of a printout of the song lyrics- in Dusun.

Wow, it worked like magic. He revised all three subjects excitedly, with hardly any complain (except for the sentence "Ayah membeli___ buah durian di pasar" to which he grudgingly said, "I knowlah the penjodoh bilangan is sebiji, but why do you need to put buah durian when you already know that durian is a fruit?).

So we got his lyrics printed out nicely...and we ended up the happy mom and son :)

Ogulian- what goes around...

2011-08-11T06:51:00.005+08:00

(http://www.google.com.my/imgres?q=vector+flower&hl=en&sa=X&rlz=1C1_____enMY444MY444&biw=1280&bih=642&tbm=isch&tbnid=fJ0yf9vl5fJx9M:&imgrefurl=http://qvectors.net)

I finally realized the term for the Dusun's poetic justice concept. It's ogulian, in Sabah Malay kebalikan. I have my friend Trixie to thank for reminding me of this when we had one of our long chats last Friday.

This concept is basically synonym with what goes around comes around, or karma, or whatever one calls it. Except that in ogulian , you are only reminded not to do something bad upon others, while in what goes around it works both way- do something bad, you get something bad in return; do something good then good things happen to you.

My late grandfather used to say if you steal somebody's crops, you might get away with it. But the next generations might suffer because of that, because their blood would be tainted with the bad deed. (either from you eating the stolen food, or selling it and buying food with the money you get for that) That's ogulian.

In a way it is a never-ending punishment for something bad you or your family members do/did. I didn't think of asking my grandfather if there are any ways to stop the punishment :) But logically, I think the only antidote to that is doing something good. That way, it keeps the community in a good order.

Ramadan Greetings

2011-08-05T20:48:00.003+08:00

How fast time flies. It's Ramadan again. It seems only yesterday when I celebrated Hari Raya with family and friends...

Ramadan evokes a memory of childhood, one that I can never forget till now. We were living at a remote village in Ranau when my father was the headmaster in that village school, way back in the late 1970s/early 80s. Like most villages in Ranau, it was a mixed-faith village. A third of the population was Muslim, another 1/3 was Christian, and the rest continued with the traditional Dusun belief.

One day my friend told me that it was the Muslim's fasting month. Of course then I didn't know anything about fasting month. I didn't even know anything about Christianity save for the fact that we made the sign of the cross upon waking up, before meals, before leaving the house and before sleeping (such was my simple faith then), let alone about other religion. Anyway, the friend said that her father was tired working the farm during the day, so he replaced his fasting at night. Seriously, I thought it was normal.

Years later when I was in high school, I participated in Islamic religion lessons and began to understand that fasting for the Muslims involved a duration of before the break of dawn till the sun set, or something like that. I often thought of the childhood friend, her father and even the Muslim community in that village. I do not know for sure when did they convert to Islam, but if it was anything in the 60s or 70s, chances are, they didn't receive the right guidance then. (It is a well known fact that a lot of mass conversion happened in the Dusun community in those years, and that a lot of the new Muslims did not really understand their new faith. Just like a lot of Christians did not understand their faith).

I guess those times were history. I'm glad to think that the Muslim Dusuns are more knowledgeable about their faith now, just as those who claim to be Christians are also making an effort to understand their faith. Most importantly, we still live together in harmony, and we acknowledge that despite the religious differences, we descend from the same source. I guess this quote applies to the Dusun people in general, that "All systems of thought are guiding means; they are not absolute truth"(Thich Nhat Hanh). May the Dusun people continue to live together in peace.

Self-reward

2011-07-27T21:02:00.005+08:00

I am finally back to work, after the long medical leave. Yesterday was the first day and it began with a workshop on writing and editing that lasted till today. I have to say the workshop had been very enlightening, thanks to the facilatator, Dr Jeniri Amir, a prominent scholar and a prolific writer at UNIMAS Sarawak.

I like many things he said, but I especially like his simple approach of celebrating a completed job- self-reward. I've never really thought about this before, but I supposed the Dusun people actually have been practising this concept without calling it a name. The most common reward (at least practiced earlier) is/was moginum. After a hard day's work at the farm, the Dusun like to get together over a tajau of tapai. Men, women, there used to be no distinction, although women slowly stopped participating in the activity. It's a reward after all! I can see the change of the pattern in my own family: my late grandmothers (both sides) drank with their men. Some of my elderly aunties (in their 70s and 80s now), still do that sometimes. But my mother and her younger sisters (in their 40s to 60s) do not drink with the men much anymore. In fact, I can surely say that Mom doesn't do social-drinking at all, except with girl-friends, and even that is seldom.

Anyway, Dr. Jeniri says self-reward is very important to keep one's motivation going. Something as simple as a cup of tea after achieving a job-target such as writing an abstract for an academic paper. I bet you can see that I am self-rewarding now. As an academic, I have to adhere to the principle 'publish or perish', and I've not been a prolific writer at all. (You can hardly call one publication a year prolific!) Since I am about to change that, I'll have to cut-down my self-satisfaction internet activities like blogging and blog-hopping. But hey, I get to blog as a self-reward! (and I am cheating a little bit, I still browse through your blogs every day because in a way, it is my motivation to live :))

Local Wisdom Again- "Don't touch other people's children"

2011-07-19T15:27:00.006+08:00

In the Dusun culture, beating a child as a form of disciplining is allowed, but only as a last resort. But even when beating is done, there is a rule as to who can beat the child and who can't. Most people would expect it to be the parents' responsibility, although I've also seen other family members who are 'higher in rank' (older brothers, uncles, aunties) who did that. But NEVER an outsider.

So was it a wonder that there is always a mixed-reaction when a teacher in school resorts to beating in order to discipline a pupil? On one hand, it is okay to some parents as perhaps to them the rank of the teacher is equal to 'family members'. On the other hand, this is a no-no to some parents, because touching others' children is unheard of in the community.

In fact I was reading Tuaran Adat and Dusun Custom of Putatan District the other day, and discovered that somebody who beats somebody else's child has to pay sogit in the form of animal to the child's parents. Something that requires a sogit is indeed a serious thing in the community. Upon reflection, I think it is a very wise thing indeed. Let each family discipline theirs.

Ongkor and Anakanak revisited

2011-07-15T22:43:00.005+08:00

(source: finaltouchproofreadingandediting.com)

As I write materials for the KD level 2 course, I suddenly think of the KD infamous folktale character, Ongkor aka Bongkoron, and his opposite all-perfect hero Anakanak. Indeed, it is typical in any culture (at least the ones I've heard of) that there must be some black and white characters, and I wonder, could it be because underlying the society is the moral belief that virtue will be rewarded while vice punished?

In the Dusun stories I've heard, Ongkor is always painted as:

1. the lazy one
2. the liar
3. the gluttonous one
4. the envious one
5. the one who couldn't bear difficulties
and the long list of vices goes on. (A Christian can easily identify Ongkor's vices with the seven deadly sins)

Anakanak on the other hand is the angelic one. He is:

1. the hardworking one
2. the honest one
3. the one who respects his mother [parents](often, in the stories I heard, the mother is mentioned as a poor single mother)
4. the one who's grateful
5. the one who bears any difficulties with a grin
and of course, everything that is good.

But unfortunately in real life I don't think there is a single person that is really 100% Anakanak. Nor is there one that is 100% Ongkor (please tell me no one is totally bad). It must have been the people's desire for perfection that painted these two opposite characters the way they are. Maybe deep in every man's heart is that desire.

Anyway, I am using quite a few folktales in my teaching materials this time around. I am having fun doing them, although it is so time-consuming and quite taxing.

Birthday Celebration is an innovation

2011-07-07T16:55:00.011+08:00

The Dusun people didn't used to celebrate birthdays in the olden days. They only celebrated fullmoon (baby's one month event) or whatever it was called then. By the time I was old enough to be dragged around to attend such a celebration (during school holidays, with my grandmother mostly), I remember people calling it ganap bulan (literally 'full moon'). (I wonder if ganap here is from the Malay word genap (complete) or the Dusun word gonop (also complete). Most probably it's the Malay word, as Dusun words are seldom used without affixation.) Anyway, my late grandmother told me that during her child-bearing time, people contributed goods like rice and chicken for the baby's family- to use in the celebration. By the time it was my fullmoon, people started giving little gifts like baby clothes, talcum powder or even a small amount of money. In my mother in law's village, giving money is called mongumpau (giving ang pau), a word which is uniquely based on the Chinese word ang pau.

Back to birthdays, modern day Dusun celebrate birthdays. We just did on July 6. Hubby turned another year wiser on 5 July 2011. But the family celebration could only be done the next evening, as he had to attend a formal dinner of his office on the 5th. I prepared a simple dinner of sushi, baked vegetables, and roast chicken (Aussie style- and I told myself I could have just run to Coles or IGA or Woolsworth to get a perfectly roasted chicken if we were in Australia :)). But since we are now here in KK, I had to roast the chicken on my own. Maybe it's a good thing because I got to learn a few things about roasting. Turned out to be quite simple. Just brine the chicken for an hour (soak it in salt water mixed with a wedged lemon, orange, thymes, bay leaves, garlic and black pepper), rinse it off and rub it with a mixture of rosemary, thymes and pepper, leave for an hour, then roast for about 70 minutes. The result was quite ok for a first attempt. And we had a platter of mixed-fruits for dessert, along with the yummy yam cake from Strawberry cake house.

Since a birthday is not complete without some gifts, the kids and I picked a turqoise paperweight for him, since it is supposed to be a July birthstone. Actually now that I think about the gift buying episode, it was quite hilarious. The Chinese lady who attended to me in the gemstone shop confidently told me that the thing she was showing me was a ruby paperweight, perfect for a July birthday gift. It would promote good health, wisdom, good relationship, and economic stability to the wearer, she told me further. Later on I found out that it is actually turqouise, but somebody told me that turqoise is still counted as a July birthstone. It doesn't really matter, it's the thought that counts :).

So another year wiser was celebrated, as it is commonly practiced among the modern Dusun. Since it is a good innovation, why not?

Because they are such dedicated teachers

2011-07-05T07:32:00.007+08:00

I've now had the chance to look at something I have wanted to do since a few weeks back. That's the Kadazandusun teachers' responses to the questionnaire I distributed through a kind, recently met neighbour (Thanks C :)). This is part of a small scale project I've been working on this year. To evaluate the teaching and learning of KD in Sabah schools after over a decade.

It is not easy to offer a minority language, any minority language as a formal subject in school. And I think the KD community has done well with that. From a mere trial phase in 1997, the language was officially offered in schools in 2000. With very little resources and a lot of obstacles. Salute to the pioneers.

One of the biggest obstacles was that KD is a so-called standard language that no one speaks, and there was no reference grammar to help the teachers taught then. So the teachers who speak real dialects got so confused, some of them even stopped teaching. Who could blame them anyway?

But the resilient ones hung on. They went to workshops, courses, brainstorming sessions and textbook meetings, and produced teaching and learning materials. Maybe the materials were not perfect, but it's the efforts that count. I'd say to anyone who criticize them without thinking, to go produce better ones. (I, myself ended up trying to figure out the grammar of my dialect because...somebody has to? Nah, because I want to).

Anyway, more than a decade later, KD is still there in schools. Yes, there definitely is room for improvement, but I believe in acknowledging and appreciating sincere efforts. If anything, sincere efforts that might be not so perfect are worth a thousand times more than pompousness.

And so I am so happy to discover in the questionnaire that all of the teachers who responded say that they are happy teaching KD, that they would deepen their knowledge on KD, and that they would continue to teach the language in years to come. Teachers, I am in awe of your dedication. It's a journey, of which, no one knows where it will end.

Note: No, I have not been involved in the preparation of KD teaching in schools, nor have I ever had the pleasure of teaching KD in schools. But I have been an accidental KD instructor (material developer mostly) in UMS since a few years back, and now even an occasional teacher when we have enough students to distribute among us three teachers (two of them are language teachers employed to teach KD). Despite having another set of job description teaching something else (my tugas hakiki real job), I always welcome the opportunity to conduct a KD class. We adopt a slightly different approach than the one in schools, and I'd like to think that we are improving gradually in UMS :)

Borrowing the Malay plural system

2011-06-29T06:23:00.006+08:00

"Romou-romou matoku lumuyung id pingasku
aiso pinoborosku, aiso tiso pinikianu ku"

(tears of my eyes, running down my cheeks, I had nothing to say, I didn't ask for a single thing)

"tusak-tusak do piginawaan
owongi oh koungkaladon"

(the flowers of love, they unfold with sweet fragrance)

These two excerpts are from two lovely Kadazandusun (KD) songs. And they are living examples of a growing phenomenon in the use of the KD plural; that is borrowing the system from Malay. It's hardly surprising, since Malay is the dominant language, and the younger generation can't help but become hybrid in their use of languages.

In Malay, plural words are mostly formed by full reduplication. Anak-anak, (children) barang-barang (things) etc. In the KD dialects that I know of (and I think I've heard quite a few although I do not claim to know all dialects), plural is indicated by the prefix 0ngo- (also realized as anga-) as in tangaanak (children), ongodungau (cats). Sometimes ongo-/anga- is used with t- in the front as in tangaanak.

Some people told me that there are instances of words that are fully reduplicated in KD like tanak-tanak (child) and tasu-tasu (dog). But based on my experience, this type of reduplication doesn't indicate plural. It is something else...something that people say when they want to downplay the importance of something, or when they want to be humble about something.

But, supposed there are really plural forms indicated by full-reduplication, I wonder which KD dialects would have that?

Man's Best Friend

2011-06-23T12:38:00.012+08:00

When it comes to the Dusun people, it is quite true that dogs are really man's best friends. Go to any Dusun's house at any kampung and you'll definitely see a few dogs outside the house.

This is Gurod, my parents' loyal dog. She's been around for about 7 years. A few times, she had shown some signs of aging and dying, but she has never missed a chance to 'go hiking' (going to the farm up the hill) with any member of the family. She lost the function of a leg as a result of stealing a chicken when she was young and playful. Mom said Bapa hit her so bad with a stick that her leg was broken and eventually became useless. But Bapa denied that vehemently, saying that it was because she was attacked by the other dogs. Both my parents love her like a child though.

This one is Kadiu, which my children have accidently christened 'Cardio' when they were readjusting to the local pronunciation, post-Australia-living. Kadiu is a special female dog that had never given birth to any puppy. She's the most fierce of the pack- the leader of the pack according to Mom. She guards the house jealously, never letting any strangers get in the compound without alerting the household.

y

This one here is Panda, named so because of his colors. He used to be so cute and panda-like that he was allowed to be the 'inside-dog'. Later, he opted to be an 'outside-dog' like the rest of the dogs. He's been much more lively ever since, though his good look had vanished because of his fondness of playing with dirts.

And these three little puppies here didn't get the chance to enjoy life. They didn't even get names that stuck. (In my parents' household, there is this tradition that a puppy will be called a few names until one of the names stuck). We started calling them 'the three princes-father unknown' but they died barely a month after they were born. RIP triplets.

Finally, we have Tuti, the irresponsible mother of the triplets. She doesn't have a single motherly bone in her body. All she knows is to get pregnant, give birth and leave the puppies to tend to themselves. It's no wonder none of them lived long so far.

Actually there are more dogs in my parents' place but these are all the pictures I have. They keep adopting, tirelessly tending to these dogs- feeding them and taking them to the vets. In return, they get loyal guards, and companions to go to the farms. "At least," Mom said, "I never have to worry about stepping on a snake in the bushes. The dogs take care of that for me".

The perfect 'tapai'

2011-06-22T12:45:00.003+08:00

My mom was becoming very restless. She's been here about a week, with the intent of helping me out with the kids' breakfast and lunch boxes while I recuperate from my operation just over a week ago. So I asked her to make some tapai (rice-wine), since I have some beras pulut (glutinous rice) and sasad (yeast,) leftover from my last effort (that would be months ago). (Being me, I can't help but feel that tradition should be carried out by those who can, no matter that I don't drink alcoholic drinks myself).

The tapai-making session turned out to be an eye-opener for me. Strange, I thought I knew all there was to know about making tapai. Turned out that like any other type of learning, it's a continuous process.

The first comment I got from Mom was "you need a proper cooling-mat" (which would ideally be a recycled sugar or rice sack, the white woven type that normally holds 50kg of rice). Mom said that if you don't cool the cooked rice properly, there's a chance that the tapai would turn sour instead of bitter or bitter-sweet. Because I don't have one of those, she had to be contented with using my rilibu (winnowing basket).

Her second comment was that I was not supposed to store my yeast in the fridge, even though they are in an air-tight container. "The best tapai can only be produced by using properly-dried yeast", said Mom. She took the bunch of yeast out and dried them under the sun-thankfully the sun shone gloriously yesterday.

She cooked 5kg of beras pulut in my giant rice-cooker (and complained that the fragrance of the rice would have been much nicer cooked in a large pot on a hearth over suduon (firewood)). After, she let the rice cool on the winnowing basket, and hours later, after the bunch of yeast were crisp from the sun, she put them in a zipped bag, and crush them with a rolling-pin. (In her own place, she would have used a custom-made pestle for that purpose). She mixed the yeast with the rice well, and stored them in two of my empty jars.

A month from now, the tapai would be good to consume, either as siopon (to be taken straight from the tajau using a straw) or lihing (rice-wine.

Mom's tapai has always been perfect, while mine varies from bitter to sourish. Good thing the lesson she gave had made me aware of the reason for the sourish taste now.

So, we are from China?

2011-06-21T11:38:00.004+08:00

When my grandparents were still around, I used to ask them "where are we from?". And 'ama' (that's my grandfather), with his typical humor, would tell me a story of how there were seven sisters that lived on top of the Kinabalu Mountain, who got blown away by the wind and scattered to different places. "From the seven places, the various races were formed", he'd confidently said. 'Ina' (grandmother) would dismiss my question with "ungka" (don't know), and told me not to ask too many questions. I supposed no one told them of their origins, and that's the way it was supposed to be...from them, I never did learn much about the origin.

Through the years, I've heard many versions of the origin of the Dusun (Kadazaandusun) people. Then I came across two archived articles that mentioned the name(s) of the person/s responsible to bring the Dusun here in Sabah. It's quite fascinating, although the writers themselves wrote that that theory needs further research (and that was in 1858, and 1923 respectively).

According to Crespigny (1958), "...they (the Dusun) revere the name of Kina, their first leader, who having brought them to this land from another, ascended the mountain Kinibalu, and was no more seen of men. They also kept in rememberance the name of Hung-sum-ping, the brother of the Emperor of China, and Malekbatata, from the same country, whose names are connected with a curious legend". I find it interesting that although this piece of information seems so infused with myth, the mention of China and those two names seem real.

Another version ((Hewett (1923)) says that Kublai Khan invaded North Borneo in great force in 1292 (Thanks Tina for noticing the typo. I wrote 1912 earlier) and founded a Chinese Province, in which included the Sulu Islands. (and perhaps from there, the people spread to Sabah?). One evidence given by Hewett that I find curious is "the bamboo bridge over Tampasuk river at Kaung Ulu, a survival of Chinese days. No Dusun nowadays could design such a bridge". I wonder how the bridge looked like. The same author states that from Sulu records, a guy called Ong Sum Ping settled in Kinabatangan River in 1375...and if one relates this with the Dusun legend, that the people originated from Nunuk Ragang (which is very accessible from Kinabatangan), there might be some truth to the claim.

Anyhow, solid research will be needed to explain the genesis of the Dusun :. As it is, I continue wondering...

Jar cleansing ritual

2011-06-18T14:46:00.005+08:00

I learned a new thing again. As usual, from my mom, who like most moms, is a fountain of knowledge.

Mom says that in the olden days, there were a lot of rituals associated with moginakan (family gathering of sort). One of them is the jar cleansing ritual or mongibai. Interestingly, mom, who was born in 1951 had only experienced this ritual once before everybody stopped ritualizing many things.

Mongibai was a ritual performed to cleanse two types of jars, tompok and bagaton (in Bundu Tuhan) that were believed to be inhabited by spirits to make them fit for rice-wine storage. It was believed that if the ritual wasn't performed before filling the jars, the spirits would play havoc with the rice-wine, causing it to become sour. Apparently, the desired taste of tapai in the olden day was bitter (unlike nowadays when people prefer bitter-sweet taste).

At a corner of the house of the moginakan host, low walls would be erected and the jars to be cleansed would be put within the walls. All the best clothes (unused) would be taken out and draped on the walls. Then a bobolian (shaman, priestess) would start the ritual by singing a chant called tibai. Too bad mom can't remember the whole chant, but here's what she remembers:
...
inumon nopo'd sanganu
(if the host is the one drinking it)
misintobu kinokos
(it would be like sugar-cane)
nga inumon nopo'd sambai
(but if the guest is the one drinking it)
nga misimpaliu gintawos
(xxx)
misingompodu do lansat
(it would be like the bile of the langsat fruit)

and it is from the lyrics that I know bitter-tasted rice-wine was more preferred to sweet-tasted in thosed days...

This is kaamatan

2011-06-02T10:31:00.005+08:00

Borrowing Kay Kastum's song title, this year, Kaamatan (Harvest Festival) was a quiet celebration for me. Instead of taking part in the merry-making of the festival, I opted to hide far from the maddening crowd somewhere in a secluded hotel in KK and entertained the kids. Much that the kids' quarrels drove me crazy most of the time, it was still a nice time for me.

The only thing I did that reflects an aspect of Kaamatan was to buy this belt:

It's called tangkong
I think. It's the one that a lady wears with the kadazandusun costume, among other things. I happened to come across it in one of the booths selling traditional crafts in KDCA, the place where the peak of Kaamatan is celebrated every year. Thinking that all this while I've always been using my mom's, I decided to get one for myself. In fact there was another set of 3 belts that look like a chain of heavy rings that I really wanted. These three are supposed to be worn on the hips. It's just that they cost a fortune: RM1000 for the set! Well, I haven't come to the stage of having that much need for them yet. Maybe when I'm older (some people are just late bloomer anyway).

So that's my Kaamatan buy this year. Maybe next year I'll celebrate, really celebrate the (imaginary) bounty harvest of the past year, giving thanks to Bambarayon (or the Maker or Mother Nature) for good another year :)

excuse me- karud?

2011-05-18T16:59:00.004+08:00

I've always have it in my mind that a man referring to his wife as karud (literally 'female buffalo' in my dialect at least, and 'sow' in many Kadazandusun dialects) is very rude. But it was quite a common practice some years back. I remember my father's friends referring to their wives as that. For some reason I never heard of my father using that term. Perhaps that's where I got my idea that it is a derogatory word.

Apparently not everybody thinks so as I've just learned a few days ago. I was told that in some Dusun villages, karud is used as an endearment. A man's referent to his wife. Which makes me seriously think why is it that a female buffalo or a sow is associated with a wife? Is it the breeding aspect? Or the loving nature of the mother animals? I certainly hope it's not because of the expansion of one's body after childbirth.

Somehow, I still think that it is weird being compared to a sow. If ever my husband refers to me as one, I'm sure I'll give him the cold shoulder for a few months!

When swearing peace doesn't mean "I forget"

2011-04-28T20:26:00.004+08:00

A friend ask me if it is indeed true that the Dusuns are so forgiving that they swear-peace and forgive and forget when they have done so. Well, in the olden days at least, rivaling parties swore-peace (mitaruh/mitoruh) to publicly acknowledge that they were not enemies anymore. But did they actually forgive and forget? Or did they just do it to 'move on'?

My take is the latter. Although I dare not say that the Dusuns are grudge-holders (I might get killed for saying that), they definitely have long memories. That includes good and bad things. An elderly man from Bundu Tuhan told the friend and me a story about the swearing-peace between the Bundu Tuhan and Kinsaraban people of the past. (Bundu Tuhan and Kinsaraban are two places adjescent to each other, and they used to be enemies, in the sense that they took the heads of each other's people).

The man said that there was a mitaruh ceremony done in the 1890s to stop the war between the two places. A person (and allegedly, he was a bad guy) who passed by the villages was sacrificed for that purpose. The ceremony didn't really work though. Although they stop taking heads, they were still enemies in many aspects. For instance, they won't let their people marry each other because those who married still got jinxed! A series of unfortunate events involving marriages between the two groups led to the second swear-peace ceremony in the 1900s (presumedly mid 1900s), to reinforce the first one. And the most hilarious thing I heard with regard to that was that the place in which the second mitaruh took place was called Pinonorian do Kinsaraban (literally translates as "the place in which the Kinsaraban people were defeated")! Obviously, the Bundu people still wanted to feel superior even when they had agreed to make peace, not war (no offence, my anscestors were also Bundus!)

Anyway, the various Dusun groups are now friends, maybe having had realized that they are so small in numbers in this big bad world that they need to stick together :). I still dare not accuse them (that would include myself) of being grudge-holders, but I supposed deep down, they forgive but not forget! (Perhaps, just careful by nature).

The Rainbow Taboo

2011-04-19T08:41:00.003+08:00

I was driving home with the kids two days ago when they spotted a beautiful rainbow and started yelling excitedly. It was no ordinary rainbow; big, bright and disconnected, or so it looked. A large part of it was totally hidden in the clouds. The contrasts of blue, colourful and white were just too beautiful to ignore. In their excitement, they pointed their fingers to the rainbow and without realizing it, I shrieked "DON'T".

I was as surprised as them with my reaction. "Why are you acting weird, Mom?", the eldest asked. "I...ah... it was just an old habit that dies hard", I ended up saying that. And very true indeed, when one grew up having been fed with a lot of taboos, one just stored them all inside, and when the occasion calls for it, the taboo-reaction just came out.

"It was the rainbow taboo", I told them. My late grandmother was a strong believer in it. She said if you point your finger to the rainbow, you're going to lose it. "Obuntung" (the meaning of which, till now I haven't discovered). Of course I never believed in that, but it is a taboo and it is one you should practice, shouldn't it? The kids rolled their eyes, but decided not to point their fingers at the rainbow anyway. And so I've passed down another taboo to the young ones...

One of the little paradises in Sabah

2011-03-31T20:41:00.004+08:00

Well I can't claim to have been all over Sabah. After all, it's quite a journey to go round Sabah. For one thing, the roads are not good in all parts of the state. Besides, the demands of work and every day life do not really help in pursuing the plan even if one is up to it (excuses, excuses!). But this place I call 'home' (second home), Bundu Tuhan, is a paradise and I'm not exaggerating.

My grandparents and parents were born in this village. In fact, they spent a good number of years living there. For some reasons (one of the most commonly cited reasons is weather-it's too cold, you can never grow rice there), they moved out. The connection with the village has never been broken though. I remember 'going back home' to spend Christmas every year with my uncle's family when I was young. Grandparents, uncles, aunties, cousins- that's what I remember most. And as Chrismastime means rainy season, the ground was always wet and muddy, which was a child's perfect idea of fun. Dipping in the cold river, pretending to help the adults with the washings was another fun thing my many cousins and I used to do as kids.

You have most wonders of nature there- greens, mountains, rivers, caves (except that I've never found out their locations). On top of that, people always tell you that you are related to them in some ways. It's awesome to have that many relatives!

The 'going back home' practice stopped gradually, but we still visit at least when there are weddings of relatives, even if they are many-times-removed-relatives. The people still refer to Bundu Tuhan as dati (ours) when they talk to us, so we feel 'included' all the time. Deep down, I always feel that I'm part of them, even though I have never been a 'real' resident of this special place.

what would I have been then?

2011-03-18T12:14:00.004+08:00

My grandfathers of both father and mother's sides were great storytellers. The paternal grandfather was already old when I was in primary school. In fact in my memory he had always been old. He was tall and lanky (and I always wished I had gotten his genes), with an air of quiet wisdom. At night when it was bedtime, he would launched into his storytelling mode, telling tales of his life journey, as well as stories of brave Dusun heros and beautiful Dusun heroines. Sadly, I can only remember the tales of heros and heroines, and not his own stories of life. As he grew even older, the storytelling sessions became lesser and lesser, and finally stopped. He died at 102 years old in 1993.

My maternal grandfather was a lot younger than my paternal grandfather. He died recently in 2007, at 89 years old. He had a very different character from my other grandfather; he was witty and funny, and his tales were always delivered in a humorous manner. Even the folktales became really hilarious when he told them. And not surprisingly, I remember the funny ones he told. His story telling sessions stopped when he became the town's tauke bahar (seller of coconut sap drink). Or that's the impression I got. But really, maybe he became uninterested in storytelling when several economic opportunities opened up for him to venture in. And so this particular grandfather of mine died an enterpreneur, not a storyteller.(By the way, his bahar was fused with a special type of tree bark to make it bitter and allegedly medicinal).

I often missed the storytelling sessions. I guess those sessions must have been important in my Dusun language acquisition, since my parents opted to raise us kids up speaking Malay. At least the Dusun words stored in my mind must have been partly due to the sessions.

Both my grandfathers were almost illiterate. (They could read and write basic things like their names and addresses, but that's it). I often wonder if I had been born in their era, how would I have survived it? I enjoy reading immensely, do not really enjoy talking too much, although I quite enjoy writing and communicating with people through writing. Talking with friends and family is ok for me. But I tend to be shy to talk with people I am not familiar with, even now that I am a teacher. (The one that speaks confidently in the classroom must be my "talkative twin sister"). I wonder what would have become of me were I born in my grandfathers' time? Would I have been forced to tell stories because there were no other outlets of the things I thought of? (and most importantly, Dusun women who were born then were deprived of education. No women of their age group that I knew read or write). Thinking this gives me another thing to be thankful of- that I am living in this era and am enjoying life the way I want to...

tooth-fairy?

2011-02-21T20:48:00.003+08:00

My little boy lost another milk-tooth last night. As he was brushing his teeth before bedtime, he realized that it was wobbly. He panicked a bit, because his Dad was not around to pull out the tooth for him. I offered to do it for him even though playing dentist is one of the tasks I dread the most. (After all these years, I still shiver at the sight of blood!) He refused at first, determined to do it on his own, and because "Dad has always been the one who did it" (reads: I don't trust mom to do it).

After trying a few techniques for about 20 minutes, he gave up and asked me to try. I asked him to lie on his bed, open his mouth wide and think tooth-fairy. He lightened up a bit...but because he kept asking questions like "what colour is the tooth-fairy?" ("colourful", I said) and "what's its name?" (and I said "Casey" because that was the first thing that came to mind). I sang to him a bit. A silly made-up song about a boy who was losing his tooth and how he was rewarded by the tooth-fairy because he was so brave. Then two tugs, and off came the tooth. He cried a bit, but soon was cheered up with the thought that the tooth-fairy would come that night and gave him some money.

"Did the tooth-fairy come when you were little?", his question caught me off-guard. "Well,...yeah". He still wasn't happy with my answer. "Did you put your teeth under the pillow?". "No, no...back then we had to put our teeth at the ropuhan", I quickly said. "Huh, what's that?"...and I went on explaining the ritual of losing a tooth when I was little. True enough, my siblings and I were asked to bury our teeth on the ropuhan, the hearth that was made of soil. Later when we didn't have one available anymore, we were asked to just bury them on the ground,...or else, the new teeth would not grow, supposedly.

Hmm...I wonder how did the tooth-fairy culture get into our household? I can't quite remember anymore but it must have started with the eldest child's insistence (and she is one very strong character), having gotten her input from books and friends. Not that I mind at all. It is actually quite fun, and motivational. After all, we live in a world of cultural-fusion here in Sabah. I guess I'll just have to twist it a bit, in order to preserve the Dusun culture. Maybe get the kids to bury their teeth on the ground instead of put them under the pillows. Who knows, the tooth-fairy might actually reward them extra?

here I am, befriending mother earth

2011-02-07T01:53:00.003+08:00

"A Dusun, at one point of his/her life, will certainly long to cultivate his/her land", says me who has observed relatives and friends going through the process for years. I guess I'm finally at that stage. How else would I explain the surge of interest I've been having on growing fruit trees on our land? A few years ago, I'd have been contented to see hubby handles that end. After all, he's the one with the green thumb. It was enough for me to take pleasure in the plants he grew at the backyard.

Not anymore. I found myself following hubby to pick seedlings from the agricultural department in Tuaran, enjoying the whole process of deciding what fruit seedlings to get, and selecting the right ones. Those seedlings, we later took to Ranau to be grown at the plot of land that my parents gave us, some 40-minute hike up the hills from their house. On fine weather days, a four wheel drive can reach the place, but since it had been raining for the past few weeks, we could only drive halfway and hiked the remaining 20 minutes. It felt good to carry my seedlings on my wakid, heavy though the wakid was on my untrained back. (It was hilarious the way my 60-year old mom kept asking me anxiously whether I could carry the load when I am way younger than her!)

Together with my mom, dad, a cousin and three hired helpers, we got our seedlings safely to their destination. Hubby and I had the joy of planting a few of them. Forgetting all about my insecurity about not being a green-thumb person, I felt that I could go on doing it if not for our time constraint of having to go back to KK. We had to let the hired helpers under the supervision of my father do the rest for us.

At least, I could brag about finally being there- the stage at which mother earth is becoming more and more significant...

sumakit and the euphemisms

2011-02-01T19:21:00.004+08:00

They say the hardest level of competence to attain in any language is pragmatic competence, i.e. the ability to use words according to appropriate meanings in specific contexts. That proved true for me recently. For as long as I could remember, I had used the Dusun word sumakit to mean 'sick' in general. From minor ailment like viral infection to serious problem like cancer, I had always called them sakit "sickness". Little did I realize that I was using the word based on the way I used it in Malay, my dominant language, since the same word sakit is used in Malay to refer to those things.

Until a fortnight ago...at a cousin's house. My cousin, his wife and their eldest daughter's birthdays are all in the same week, so they made it a point to celebrate together this year. I had to come with only my eldest girl and youngest son, as hubby and second girl were not feeling well. One of my cousins, one who had had the advantage of growing up speaking 'pure' Dusun asked me where my hubby was. I, of course, answered "sumakit". She looked at me with a funny expression, burst out laughing and humorously explained to me that one only says sumakit when the person being referred to is gravely ill. Having the advantage of being a medical doctor on top of being a pure speaker, she explained the types of illnesses that one may call 'sakit', and those ailments that should be referred to as longoh-longohon "having a cold", amu osonong kopio "not feeling very well" and a few other euphemisms. I was genuinely surprised. No one had ever corrected me for my use of the word sumakit before. "Well", I said, "one never stops learning".

For the rest of the party I had to endure the cousins' teasing about that every time somebody asked me where's the hubby. At least I know that the phrase ouruan do sumakit (literally "very sick") is a euphemism for "pass away". Otherwise it would have had become another joke among the cousins.

thank you for the music

2011-01-22T14:21:00.004+08:00

It has been five years since I last taught a Kadazandusun course. This year I have to teach again. Only one class though. It was a mixed feeling when I was told the news. A bit of excitement, because I always find a joy in preparing teaching materials from scratch. At the same time nervous, because I know students who enroll for Kadazandusun courses at the uni are normally those who are good in languages that they have the courage to learn a language that is 'foreign' to them. (It's the uni's regulation to allow only students who are of different ethnic groups to learn an ethnic language).

First week of class, I looked at eight students with unfathomable expressions. Eight? I never had a group of learners that is this small. I consoled myself that maybe that was a good thing. At least the teaching and learning process will be easier. The only problem would be how to engage these learners in the classroom. I have no idea what kind of learners they are. (For some reason I notice there's always a dominant type of learners in my class every semester, and that helps me a lot in planning my activities). I quickly realized the merit of having a small number of students. The hours can be fully utilized making them understand each and every word in the texts. At the end of the class, I have started looking forward to week 2.

At the end of week 2 lesson, one of my students came to me to ask whether I could possibly translate a Dusun song "Ama om Apa" for him. Pleasantly surprised, I told him I'd love to do that. He gave me the lyrics and I decided to be playful. I gave the root word translation and challenged him to make use of all my explanation in the classroom about how the affixes work to make sense of the song. Soon after almost everyone joined in in his attempt to understand the song. 15 minutes later, the group managed to make sense of most of the words. That's it, I thought. I've found my learner type! I know now I can use music to engage them in the classroom. "Next week", I teased them, "we can sing karaoke in the classroom. You all can take turn to be the lead and backup singers", and everyone went home lightheartedly. I really am looking forward to the next class.

"owh bah"

2011-01-11T07:48:00.004+08:00

It seems that lately I've been getting more and more of this response, "owh bah", from friends, family members and even students. It's a good thing that I know how to interpret the intended meaning. Otherwise, it could lead to a major miscommunication. Especially when the response is in the form of text message. One might accidentally interpret the expression as a lukewarm answer (read: I'm not interested), which could possibly be one of the intended meanings anyway. As of now, I've come to the conclusion that "owh bah" can mean the following, and more:

1. Ok -an acknowledgement of one's statement
2. Sure - mostly in response to one's request. Could be that this bears no urgency at all (I'll do it later), or a polite indicator that the person has understood the request and will act on it accordingly.
3. Dismissal - seemingly to acknowledge one's statement or request but actually quietly dismissing it

As regards (3), I remember an incident that happened last year. The bushes by the roadside accros the road of my housing area was on fire. It was a hot day and the fire was spreading fast, at that point, moving towards the traffic light posts. I quickly dialled 999 and reported the fire. To my horror, the operator who answered my call simply said, "owh bah. Banyak-banyak sudah orang yang telefon ni" (Ok, there have been quite a number of people calling), which of course, earned him a hysterical "jadi, kenapa belum ada tindakan?!!!!" (so, why hasn't there been an action?!!!) from me.

Well, "owh bah" is an interesting expression indeed.

and this isTuaran

2010-12-28T13:42:00.005+08:00

Finally I managed to force myself to go to the Land Department in Tuaran to get my land title. Yay! Land title. It has such a beautiful ring to it. A piece of land by the sea near Rasa Ria Resort that hubby and I bought with the money we toiled and sweated with. And it's MINE (Ha ha, people will think I'm crazy for being so excited about this. But there is a difference between earning a land title and inheriting one from one's family).

Anyway, I parked outside the building and confidently strode into the building, hesitating only briefly before entering a corridor that led to the land office, at least to my recollection of the place 10 months before. Only that it wasn't an office at all but a conference room, full of jolly elderly people. All eyes were on me and I knew I had to say something. "Sini pejabat tanah ka?" (Is this the land office?), I addressed the question to no one in partidular. Everybody answered me at the same time that I couln't really get what they were saying. Then a young man said "Bukan. Pejabat tanah sana di sebelah. Bangunan Urusetia" (No, the land office is at the other side. Urusetia Building). "Mo ambil geran tanah ka?" (Are you getting your land title?), came a question from an elderly lady. Gosh, it must have been written so clearly on my face. When I admitted it, somebody responded, "Oh, sini bukan tempat ambil geran. Sini tempat kasi tinggal harta" (Oh, this is not the place to get land titles. Here is the place that you leave (arrange to leave) your properties). They all laughed merrily again, looking at me, clearly expecting me to laugh with them. The hilariousnes of the situation struck me. There I was trying to get my land title at a place where people leave their properties, and I so laughed with them. Everyone tried to give me the direction to the land office, and I stood listening, not knowing who to listen to. Finally the young man took charge and showed me the way to the right office, all along jokingly asking me whether the land was big and whether I'd care to share it with them. In response, I jokingly told him that it was only a little piece of paper that I couldn't possibly share it with so many people.

In the land office I was asked to produce the slip they gave me when I applied for the title. I have totally forgotten about that. I thought I'd have to go back home and search for that slip, but instead the lady at the counter asked me to give her my identification card so she could try searching for it. Her reaction surprised me a bit because in many offices in KK I had experienced less friendly treatments for forgetting important documents. She went through her files patiently and 5 minutes later found my land title. I thanked her, wished her happy holidays and dashed out of the office. Outside at the parking lot, I bumped into the group of jolly elderlies again. A closer look at them made me realize that they were made up of various races- Chinese, Dusun, Bajau and perhaps more, but they looked so comfortable with each other. I told myself this is after all Tuaran. One of the melting pots of races in Sabah, where most people live in harmony and speak at least three languages.

They saw me, and waved as if I was an old friend. Somebody shouted to ask whether I had gotten my land title and when I shouted back "yes", they cheered like a group of schoolkids. I smiled happily, knowing one day I'd build my home in Tuaran, and wishing that all my neighbours would be good-natured and jolly people like this lot.

Kinorotuan vs Kinaratuan- why oh why

2010-12-20T22:18:00.005+08:00

Each time I go back to my home sweet hometown, I can't help but feel irritated to see the misspelling of my kampung's name on the big signboard at the junction (Ranau-Sandakan Road). There, very glaringly un-dusun is the word KINARATUAN where it should be KINOROTUAN. As far as I am concerned, no one has ever referred to the village as Kinaratuan. The base word is of course ratu that could refer to either the fruit 'wild durian' or the action 'fall' (jatuh). No one knows which although if you spend enough time talking with the entertaining elderly folks they will give you their versions of the stories on how Kinorotuan came to be. The most popular ones I've heard are 1) the place used to be inhabited by ratu(s) and 2) somebody fell from a tree that his falling resulted in the name Kinorotuan. Dissected into its individual unit, the word would be:

ratu (wild durian or fall) - base word
ko---an - the circumfix that indicates a lot of things. When added to a 'noun-like word' it means location.
-in- - the infix that indicates past time reference

When ko---an is added to a base word that has the sound 'a' in the first syllable such as ratu (mind you, only with noun-like base words), the 'a' in that syllable changes to 'o'. Hence, the word kinorotuan.

By logic, version 1) is more believable because it conforms to the morphological system of Dusun as described above. Version 2) is not very convincing, as the only way to make a location out of a verb-like base word is by adding ko---on to it. Thus "a place where somebody has fallen" should have been kinorotuon. (If indeed the story of a fallen somebody had resulted in the name of a kampung, that somebody must have been an esteemed person or an entertaining idiot).

But apparently the people who endorsed the signboard didn't know this. And so the name of my village is still KINARATUAN. I bet I'll forever be irritated by this.

The guardians of the sacred mountain

2010-12-06T21:50:00.004+08:00

Recently an event called Kinabalu Biodiversity Expo was held in my hometown. This expo was indeed significant, as it publicly acknowledged the Dusuns' reverence of the Kinabalu mountain, one they had once believed to have been the residence of the souls of their departed loved ones. (Even now, some might still believe this to be true even though I suspect it is only a small portion of the community). Most Dusuns now still appreciate the symbolism of the mountain; it is still very much revered. The expression "since time immemorial" is an apt one to describe the people's tradition of revering the mountain. And it is not hard to understand why. The beauty of the mountain is breathtaking. From the top, which is quite a struggle to reach, one is presented with a scenic view of the surrounding valleys that the hours of painful climb can easily be forgotten.

My people, the people of Bundu Tuhan, together with the people of Kiau paid homage to the sacred mountain on the day of the expo. 97 of the villagers climbed up the mountain in what people term as "the pilgrimage". A ceremony called Monolob in which a Bobolian (shaman) chanted and slaughtered 7 chickens to appease the spirits of the mountain preceded the climb. And on they climbed, up then down again in the spirit of tradition.

It dawned on me that many descendants of the Dusuns from Kiau and Bundu Tuhan might have taken their role as the guardians of the sacred mountain for granted. They see the mountain, admire it, accept the traditional myths on it, and yet are not aware that they are its guardians. The expo has been good to remind them of this. It's their birthright, being the guardians of the sacred mountain. It is up to them to preserve its beauty, as well as the tradition associated with it.

Salt and 'I'm sorry'

2010-11-21T20:01:00.003+08:00

The Dusuns do not generally say 'I'm sorry' for their wrongdoings especially among family members. There is the word siou (that means 'sorry') but it is mostly used for politeness purpose. One uses it in such a situation as when one accidentally bumps into a person, for instance- sort of like 'excuse me'. But when the wrong deed is graver, i.e involving deep emotion, one just shows that he is sorry by actions.

Offering a pinch of salt and some rice grains to the person that one has offended is one of the ways of doing it. It is not practiced in all communities anymore, but it is still done nevertheless. My good friend's community still does it. She was giving an example of how the other day she offered her mom a pinch of salt for having lost her temper and hurt the mom's feeling. It's like saying "I'm sorry, I have hurt you". The gesture was well received, and the awkward situation they had was resolved.

Now I don't remember if any of my family members ever did practice this. But it is very practical, I think, especially that the Dusun people are not very good at communicating the soft side of their emotions. Would be good if I could get started with this tradition within my own family...

One of the many taboos

2010-11-02T19:03:00.003+08:00

When I was young, one of my mom's 'no no phrase' at home is pataion ku iya "I (will) kill you". According to her, it is especially a taboo to say that when one is holding a knife or any sharp object, because the bad spirits will make the words come true. My mom always tells this story to reinforce her taboo:

"Once there were two people who were mad with each other. One of them who was holding a paka (a kind of grass) leaf said pataion ku iya "I'll kill you" to the other, and threw the leaf at him. The leaf hit him right at his heart like a tandus "spear", and he died on the spot".

That is how dangerous the phrase is according to my mom. Of course, it is still one of her taboo phrases even now that I am much older. In fact all her grandchildren, who now speak different languages are also prohibited to say anything to that effect.

Although when I'm really angry I can have a slip of tongue and say the phrase without thinking (well, only when I am REALLY angry), I can see her point. My present interpretation of it is that whatever you say becomes either bad or good energy. Say something bad and the consequence will be bad, and vice versa. And so, I decided that it is a good taboo after all.

Mitoruh- peace making

2010-10-23T20:48:00.004+08:00

At my age I should have heard about this long time ago...but because of ignorance, mostly, I've only got to know this recently. Thankfully, a colleague who's also a neighbour at the office is investigating a lot of things with regard to the Dusun communities, and so I learn a lot from him.

Mitoruh- is a ceremony to indicate peace-making between two parties. Most people think that it only involves two warring parties during the head hunting time, about 100 years ago. In which case, two parties who had had enough of being enemies would call a truce. They would swear over some kind of animal or human sacrifice that they would no longer be enemies. Some people insist that the sacrifice must be a buffalo, and that later the buffalo meat have to be eaten, although my friend has evidence that there were cases where the sacrifice was human, obviously cannot be eaten after.

The most interesting story of mitoruh I heard was between human and rogon "jinn". A (another) friend told me that when she was 12, her Chinese grandmother bought a plot of land with the intention of farming. For some reason, nothing seemed to grow on the land. Later, the friend's Dusun grandmother saw that the reason for that was because the rogon refused to 'let go'. The only way to make the rogon relent was to have a mitoruh ceremony. They had the ceremony on that plot of land, attended by my friend's family members of all Chinese, Dusun and Bajau sides. A buffalo was slaughtered, the blood sprinkled all over the land...and then it was left on the land. Apparently, a buffalo offered to a non-human party can't be eaten for it would be 'tasteless'.

So that is mitoruh to the Dusun people...

The heritage language learning session...

2010-10-12T21:48:00.007+08:00

It hadn't been easy to find the time to teach the kids their heritage language. But my eldest, after finishing her national year 6 exam, UPSR, insisted that I really should make time on the weekend. Encouraged by her determination to be able to speak Dusun again (once when she was a little girl, she used to speak Dusun with her Dusun nanny), I struggled to find the time. The sessions turned out to be good...when only the daughters participated.

Last week, the 6 going 7 year old son decided to join in. All because among the three of them he was the one who could memorize all the colour terms (and he thought he was the greatest of them all!). So we started our session with a revision on the past lessons. Then the daughters requested to learn more words. Eldest daughter had her own ideas of how a language should be learned. "Do it in topics, mom", she kept insisting. Second daughter was contented to listen and repeat. But the boy was another story. "Mom, what's "bum" in Dusun?", was his first question. Thinking that if I ignore him he would come up with more such questions, I gave him the answer. To my horror, he went on and on asking, "what's nose-hair,...what's ear-hair..., what's armpit hair...what's poop...what's urine...?" And the girls had had enough that they sent him out of the "classroom". Being the cheeky boy that he is, he said "but I know how to say "private" in Dusun...it's "tontolou" (man's private part), resulting in the girls shrieking disgustedly at him.

Oh my! I have no idea whether his interest in those things is due to him being a 6 year old boy or simply due to him being a male. But undeniably my "classroom" progressed better without the boy.

The last of the bobolians-tingolig (village protection)

2010-10-04T11:05:00.005+08:00

I wouldn't have met her if it wasn't for my colleague who needed somebody to translate for him. He's researching something on the Dusun communities and has been dying to ask further questions on some hypotheses he's been playing with. So I went with him to meet this ancient lady of wisdom and I'm glad I did.

She is 97 years old and bedridden. And yet her memory is still as sharp as I imagine it must have been when she was a practising bobolian (healer, protecter, spiritual messenger, for lost of exact translation). My friend wanted to know about tingolig (protection of the village and of the household) so he asked me to ask her who she invoked when she was performing the ritual...and what she asked for.

So she told me all about tingolig and more...She said she would invoke Kinorohingan (the Creator), to ask him to give some 'power' to the stick, stone and water that she brought, so that they would serve as the protection for the village. I asked her "where is Kinorohingan?", to which she answered, high above. To go there, she said, she had to follow a kondiu (an eagle). She stressed that she wouldn't physically transcend, but rather her words would until she reached him. She would then asked him to empower the stick, the stone and the water, and went back to the earth. She would then bury those three items at the edge of the village, slaughtered 7 chickens as a symbol of gratefulness. Three years later, a goat will be slaughtered at the same spot to renew the protection, and a year after, the same ritual would be repeated. This year she said, she didn't have the physical strength to perform the ritualfor her village, so she requested her komburongoh (the thing in the pic), a sacred object that every bobolian has to have to do the job, sent the komburongoh through somebody to complete the ritual.

She lamented about the forgotten tradition, about the days when the ways of the bobolians were still practised. She had tears in her eyes when she reminisced about the good old days...and I felt a great guilt for reasons I couldn't understand...maybe for being a pseudo-dusun when it comes to traditional beliefs.

Selamat Hari Raya- unity in diversity

2010-09-15T18:24:00.004+08:00

After many years of not being able to celebrate Hari Raya (eid-ul-fitr) with my Muslim side of the family, I finally got the chance this year. My mom's cousins, the uncle and aunties, have aged well and they could hardly recognize me. Well, the last time I saw all of them was when I was about 10 yrs old. Living away from home somehow has distanced me from them.

It was a pleasure to be with them once again. Indeed, blood is thicker than water. One of the aunts asked me whether my brother the priest has safely come home. She said when she saw the wars at other countries on tv she kept thinking and worrying of relatives who were far away. And her face lighted up when I told her that my brother is safe and sound, serving at one of the churches in KK. The conversation might seem weird to people who are of not a diverse-belief background, but to us it is natural. My muslim aunt is proud to have a nephew who is a priest because she's hoping for him to do good to humanity.

The uncle emphasized on the importance of being tolerant and be united for the sake of our safety in this country. These simple folks might never have been away from their homeland, but they've seen enough war reports in the media to appreciate their peaceful home. Uncle said, "when you pray, pray for the safety of our country. May we always live in peace". And then he went on to say, " it is my ritual to advise the young people of my staff members to pray, always for safety, if you are a muslim, pray the muslim way, if you are a christian, pray the christian way, and if you are a traditional dusun, when you momurinait (praying), make sure you ask the Minamangun (Creator) to keep our land safe".

I'm glad I have managed to get to know the extended family once more. I remember before Hari Raya, my late grandmother came to me in a dream and told me to find the Muslim side of the family. I realize that on my grandmother's side, the dominant religion embraced by the family members is Islam. It looks like I have a bit of a research to do, and a lot of unknown family members to find...

Kitimbok Tinggur Bulawan

2010-09-12T20:52:00.005+08:00

Hubby accidently came across this song in youtube today. As I have listened to it a few times on air, I asked him to look for the lyric and the singer for me. The lyric, to someone who had had the chance of knowing a very Dusun grandmother and her cohort, is very beautiful. It revolves around the Dusun's olden day rice-planting culture- about a man who stands on a log, and from a distance sees his sweetheart standing out from the crowd because of the timbok tinggur bulawan (Malay- Cucuk Sanggul "traditional hairpin") that she wears. I guess in the olden days that's how they identified 'the one'. Now I've never actually known what 'tinggur bulawan' means, except that it means a special type of hairpin that once upon a time was precious to a Dusun woman.

When I listened to the song further, I found that not only the lyric praises the beauty of a woman, but it also relates how the sunlight helps the rice to grow well, and the singer's plea for the rice to produce a bounty harvest because rice is his (the people's) source of strength. My grandmother and her friends used to say riddles and traditional poems using the same kind of wordings whenever they were having a mitatabang (helping each other in the farm) session.

Originally I thought the beautiful voice belonged to a lady, but actually it belonged to a boy. As hubby and I read the comments left by viewers of the song, we realized that the singer lost his life to thalassemia last year. May his soul rest in peace. He might no longer be here in this world, but he left a beautiful legacy to the Dusuns. Sakril Sidik, rest in peace.

Plans are not to be discussed

2010-08-29T12:16:00.004+08:00

When I was in primary school, I'd follow my youngest aunt who was only 5 years older than me to attend Sunday school sometimes. It must have been during the school holidays because I was at grandmother's home. The aunt and I would always discuss excitedly the things we would do after the Sunday school, or what to spend our meagre Sunday allowance on.

Grandmother did not speak Malay but she gradually understood a few words after having listened to us a long time. I realized she has understood it when one Saturday (must have been a Saturday because we were talking about Sunday School), she suddenly bellowed to us to stop discussing our 'plans'. My aunty quickly said kadti kosoguluono'd koduo-duo! (may the soul doesn't precede me) which softened her anger.

Confused, I asked my aunt why she was so angry. It was then that I got the explaination that we are never to talk about something we think of doing for fear that the bad spirits would lead our souls to do it before our physical bodies actually manage to do it. That would mean HARM in various forms such as illness. Of course I didn't understand the explanation until years later. But I've acquired the expression kadti kosoguluono'd koduo-duo, and practised it as if I meant it.

If grandmother were to be in the present workforce, she would have had resented it very much- the neverending plans A, B, C etc wouldn't have gone well with her belief...

sogit- it's actually forgiveness

2010-08-19T21:50:00.005+08:00

Baby dumping cases in Malaysia are on the rise again...my friend just commented that the society contributes to the problem- for being judgemental. She has a point. Instead of helping the young, lost and scared mothers, the society at large scorns, chastises and labels them 'sinful'.

Anyway, the friend said, among the indigenous society in Sabah, for example Dusun, you hardly ever hear of this phenomenon. An animated discussion of this leads us to the conclusion that sogit must be playing a role in preventing baby dumpings.

In the Dusun society, having babies out of wedlocks is wrong, and in the olden days could get a severe punishment of the mother being sent to the jungle to give birth alone. But if the mother returned to the village safely, she would only be asked to pay a sogit (normally in the form of an animal to be slaughtered, cooked and eaten by the villagers) to the villagers to appease the spirits, and to 'cool' the surrounding, and she would be accepted as one of them again.

The sogit practice continues on even now. The mothers are not severely punished anymore though. The mother is the guilty party until the sogit has been paid. While she is 'guilty', the villagers won't have any qualms of gossiping about her bad conducts. Once she has paid the sogit, the talks would gradually subside. There seems to be an unspoken consensus among the villagers to 'forgive and forget' the past 'sin'. (And that could be because most people believe that if you talk about something that has been settled, the 'heat' will go to you and you'll be the one getting the bad consequences.) But whatever the real reason is, sogit works to prevent further crime like baby dumping to be committed. In a way, it is forgiveness...

creating a sense of identity through family heritage

2010-08-14T15:24:00.003+08:00

Once upon time during the headhunting time, there was a warrior in Kg. Toboh, Ranau who defeated many enemies. Back then, it was very important for a man to have headhunting skills, for enemies were all around, waiting to kill for food and things, in the name of survival. It was said that this headhunter was very strong and agile he could jump over a river (which must have been about 5m in width) when no one else could. He would go to great lengths to protect his family and friends, and he was much revered by those who have known him.

Well, that wasn't so long ago, for many elderly people who are still around today have had the chance to know him. Maybe he wasn't the once agile warrior anymore when they did see him, but his laurels remained. Even till now. His great grandchildren still talk about him with great respect, and they kept a sole picture of him somewhere in their family house in Kg.Toboh, which to date I haven't had the chance to see.

I happen to be married to one of his descendents, and am fortunate enough to pass on this tale to my son. It works well to help him identify with his root, his ethnic identity. The night we told him the story, he was so excited he tried to jump from his bed in his sleep. For days afterwards, he kept asking about his great grandparent- the food he ate, the clothes he wore, the name he had. And decided that he would like a Dusun name; a warrior's name to show that he is also as strong and brave as his ancestor. So I called him 'Anakanak' (of course that is my endearment to him, meaning 'little son', which coincidently is also a popular hero name in Dusun folktales). And I'm happy that he is happy to be himself, a Dusun, a minority ethnic in this big big world. It is indeed handy to have some kind of family heritage to help create a sense of identity among the young generation...

The kind-hearted sellers

2010-08-04T18:10:00.004+08:00

If you go to any tamu (open market), you'd see all kind of sellers selling their products, ranging from fresh produce like vegies and fruits, to clothes and plasticwares. In Sabah, the vendors at most tamus are generally the same ones. The just move around from town to town according to the days that the town has set for its tamu. In Telipok, for instance, the tamu is on Thursday. In Ranau, it is on the 1st of every month. If one is a regular tamu-goer, chances are, one will get to know the vendors well. I know my mom used to be one of those people.

You could bargain in tamu. It's almost like a game, bargaining the price of a product with the seller. Well I know my mom and her younger sister, my youngest aunt, love to do that, to the extent of making me feel uncomfortable when I'm with them!

Anyway, there are a group of sellers in tamus that to me, are overly kind-hearted. Since I grow up going to a tamu with many Dusun sellers, my experience is mostly with the Dusun kind-hearted sellers. These are normally the aki (grandfather) and odu (grandmother) from kampungs who come all the way to the tamu to sell their farm produce. They'd sell you their things at very low prices, often adding a few more extras on your buys. And they would look at you apologisingly when they say the price, as if they are causing you a lot of trouble by naming such price.

I make it a point to try to discourage them from reducing their prices when I'm buying from them. I know it might be fun to bargain, but these elderly folks are often those in need of money. But because they are too 'nice' to others, they would never try to take advantage by setting a high price on their products. Somehow, I have a soft spot for elderly sellers...

Local Wisdom- how could I not believe this?

2010-07-26T21:47:00.006+08:00

I'm still obsessed about the Dusuns' death rituals. One of my personal favourite is the rite of potongkiad "separation". The old folks say that the dead must be properly separated from their living relatives, or else someone will get sick, for the livings and the deads cannot mix. Or, if no one got sick, the dead won't feel that they have died and will continue to linger on. Will they?

Well this is another local wisdom that has been practised from generation to generation. To let go of yours when it is time to let go. The modern Dusuns sometimes forget to do this rite (and it is as simple as saying a few parting words), thinking that religion will take care of everything.

A few days ago my parents tried to dismantle my late grandfather's old hut. It was behind his usual place when he was alive. The hut was indeed special- he used it to store his favourite stuffs (mostly junks :-)) like the tools he used to momogorib "getting coconut sap" for bahar "a special drink that is believed to be medicinal, although often alcoholic". My dad used a chainsaw to cut off the four poles of the hut. He thought the hut would crumble and collapse after that but it didn't happen. They shook the hut hard, and still nothing happened. Finally an elderly neighbour came and begged my late grandfather to let go of it. Inspired by that, my mom too asked him to stop holding the hut. Guess what? Moments after that, the hut dismantled easily.

Now what would one call this? Coincidence? Not me. I'd call that the work of local wisdom. For all I know, because my family members do not practice much of the old traditions anymore, the soul of my late grandfather might still be lingering around. Maybe waiting for proper parting words from everyone...or because he just likes doing that. Remembering that he used to be a person that is most cheerful and humorous when he was alive, I'd say his soul must have chosen to linger around :-). He sure enjoys it.

at the crossroad

2010-07-18T09:18:00.006+08:00

I am fully aware that it is impossible for my children to acquire Dusun naturally because of the following reasons:
1. we live in a housing area in which the people are multiracial and multilingual
2. my husband and I do not speak Dusun to each other, mostly because when I first met him I haven't completed my Dusun language acquisition process yet :-)
3. the few years we spent outside of the country made the struggle more difficult because we were detached from most things Dusun, and the children have managed to fully acquire the dominant language.

Thus, I tried for a while to create a Heritage Language lesson for my children at home. I created teaching materials with a lot of clipart objects and aided with the best intention, started teaching them the body parts, greetings, question words etc in Dusun. That was a few years ago when my eldest was in year 2 and the second was in kindergarten. Well, the lessons lasted a few weekends, until I let busyness took over and forgot to find the time to create more lessons.

I've almost forgotten all about them, until my eldest suddenly said to me that she actually missed all my lessons because they were so fun. I was amazed that she even think they were fun at all, as I remember feeling frustrated because they couldn't get the concept (blame it on me being too used to teaching older students). And she said, "and mom, since we are Dusuns, why don't you start teaching us again? It's kind of weird saying that I am a Dusun when I can't even speak".

Her remarks made me feel guilty. And yes, I understand her feelings perfectly. At her age, I started to wonder why my parents spoke to my siblings and I in Malay instead of Dusun. And ended up being resentful about it for a while. Who wouldn't when everywhere you go you got chastised for speaking 'bad Dusun'? They didn't realize what they did to us the children then. Whereas me, I am fully aware of what is happening to the children's language acquisition and all. I guess I should be thankful that my daughter gave me the wake up call. Yes, I'm going to resume the lesson sessions.

The Dusuns are at a crossroad. To be in the mainstream or to hold on to tradition? It takes a lot of efforts to try to find a balance between the two. Because no one can stop a language from changing, the Dusun I teach my children will be one that is already 'diluted', and may even be considered non-standard by those who have the advantage of acquiring the language in a natural environment. But at least I try my best...and help Dusun to survive.

The herb guy

2010-07-14T20:02:00.006+08:00

Meet the herb guy, Mr Midjin Gayak (that's Midjin and yours truly in the pic :-)) from Kg.Kinapulidan, about 4km from Ranau town. He is 71 although he doesn't look a day over 50. I am very privileged to have met him a few weeks ago, and most privileged to have been given some education on the Dusun herbs and their medicinal values.

I am still trying very hard to commit the names of these herbs to my memory. What I found amazing is that things we have around us, that most of us take for granted for being useless weeds can actually be used to cure a lot of ailments. Take for example the paka or lalang in Malay. The root can be used to cure chicken pox. The general rule of thumb for preparing medicine from herbs is to clean and wash the root (or stem, or leaves or whichever parts of the herb you are using), and boil it for a few minutes. Let cool and drink. In the case of paka, it helps to force the poxes out on the skin surface, and makes one heal faster.

Midjin and his wife Rosmiah have a herb farm of about 2 acres, with about 400 type of herbs growing on the land. Some are native to the place, some they had had to hunt from the jungle and cultivate. They started the farm 13 years ago after Rosmiah was healed from breast cancer. In his worries, Midjin actually dreamed of the herb that healed her cancer. He had never seen the herb before, but following his intuition, went into the jungle and found the plant he dreamed about. Since then the couple have helped a lot of people with various health problems, ranging from simple ones like gastric and fever, to cancer. I have a great respect for what they are doing- and I can feel that they are very sincere in their mission to help others. Blessed be my herbalist friends.

Local wisdom that has gone wrong

2010-07-07T19:35:00.004+08:00

Been always wondering why the local communities in Sabah never could keep their areas clean from rubbish. Not only the Dusuns but also other indigenous communities.

Lately I begin to see that it's because of their misplaced local wisdom. I'm talking about the natural composting knowledge they have always had. Before the era of plastic bags, everything was from nature, and the only way they disposed of rubbish was by throwing them on the ground to decompose.

When modernisation in terms of plastic materials came, naturally they couldn't handle it well. What do I expect anyway: the great grandparents, grandparents and even some parents (I'm talking about my generation) didn't have the chance to go to school and be educated about all these modern stuffs. And so the local wisdom went wrong, and up till now, it is not easy to correct...

...and another dispute judgement: mongoi tolop

2010-06-22T06:53:00.004+08:00

If you thought mitugi is horrifying, there's another one that could force a guilty party to admit that they are guilty even before the judgement is begun. This one is called mongoi tolop literally "go dunk (in the river)". (oh well, actually it's hard to tell which one is more scary- dipping your hands in boiling water, or being under the water for a long time!)

The disputing parties are taken to a river- nowadays there are hardly any rivers that are deep enough for this purpose, at least in Bundu Tuhan area, I think, but before, there were. As in mitugi the momolian started the rite with a long, thorough chant, asking mother nature to reveal the truth. Then the two disputing parties were asked to dunk; head under water naturally. It won't be made easy for them; all the villagers would be by the river bank, eagerly waiting to see who's the guilty party (Naturally that would give them something juicy to talk about till another exciting event happened). The dunk was not timed but an elderly aunt said it was quite long. The guilty party would be opusakan "suffocated" even to the extent of almost drowning. But the innocent party would come out of the water like a hero- no shortness of breath at all.

The funniest thing ever when an elderly person recount this kind of story to you is that they mention names, the person who once went through it, suffered the embarrasment of being opusakan, and, ..err..., even their descendents, excitedly at that. I said to myself; "thank god i don't know these people". Would have been awkward if I did because I'd be so tempted to go and ask them the details of the event...

Mitugi: a traditional judgement

2010-06-13T17:49:00.003+08:00

Traditionally, no Dusun ever needed a judge to fight for their case. The truth was revealed in a ceremony called mitugi. The two parties in need of judgement will be judged using a pot of boiling water in front of the villagers.

A momolian "shaman" would start the ritual by boiling a pot of water. Then she (a shaman was normally a she) would chant over the water to reveal the truth. When the water boiled, the two disputing parties would be called over to dip their hands in the water.

Those who have once witnessed the ceremony testify that one of the parties would end up with a scald, apparently the guilty party. The other one would come out unscathed.

I wonder how did that happen...An elderly aunt said it's because everybody believed in that kind of judgement. And because the momolian had done a thorough chant asking the nature to cooperate, to reveal the truth to save the innocent party. The energy was purified, sort of. Thus, the truth was revealed that way.

If a mitugi were to be conducted nowadays, I wonder if anyone would ever survive it at all :-)

Separation Ritual (Death Ritual)

2010-06-04T07:40:00.004+08:00

Once upon a time, the Dusuns conducted a separation ritual for a widow. I sat with an elderly aunt-in-law and listened to her fascinating recount of the ritual. This is her point of view:

"Now you would think that it is because of sadness that a widow turns mentally unstable. But we used to think that it was because the separation ritual wasn't conducted properly, thus the spirit of the spouse kept coming back to her. To us, the living and the dead cannot mix. That would bring harms- in the form of illnesses. That is why it is very important to have this ritual conducted immediately after the burial."

The dead was buried as soon as all the family members were gathered. If it was inevitable that the family had to wait for any family members who came from a distance, a wake would be held. Somebody had to stay awake near the coffin the whole night long. They took turn to sleep. No music was allowed. The only sound allowed was an incessant gong beat for a few minutes, immediately after the person died, to announce the death to all the villagers.

The family of the dead had to provide meals for the visitors. If the family was well-off, they would slaughter a buffalo. Otherwise, they would just slaughter chickens. The meal provision lasted till after the burial.

When the dead had been buried, the separation ritual for the widow would be done. A momolian (bobolian, bobohizan) "wise woman"/"shaman" would perform the ritual. (Unfortunately, the aunt had so much to tell me we didn't have the time to go through the step-by-step of the ritual). She would command the spirit of the spouse to stay in his new world, and not come home to their spouse anymore, for death separated them, and the bond they once had was severed. After the ritual, the spouse was expected to go on living a normal life.

The mourning period was three days. For three days, none of the family members was allowed to work or leave the house. They were expected to cry and got over it within that period so they can move on after.

Tough. The Dusuns do not like wallowing in sadness, much less self-pity. They are supposed to do a one off expression of sadness session and move on. This leads me to one question: with regards to sadness, how Dusun am I?

Mission Almost Impossible: in search of pomiwalaian "place to build house on"

2010-05-29T18:05:00.007+08:00

Lands, as any Dusun can tell, are valuable commodities. Our foreparents riches were measured by how many acres of lands they had, apart from how many buffaloes they owned. Lands and buffaloes continue to be valuable nowadays but people seem to be making do without buffaloes. Lands, however, are a different case. They are still very much sought after, no matter how ridiculous the price might seem to be.

Yesterday we went on mission almost impossible; to find plots of land at the suburb of KK. It started with a friend, who heard on grapevine that someone was selling their land. I thought at 50k/acre, the price was a bit steep, but tagged along with hubby anyway. It was somewhat hilarious, a bunch of fortysomething Dusuns in search of land, reunited after over 20 years (they are all my hubby's batch and juniors at the uni).

From the friend's house, we drove up the scenic hills. The view was indeed breathtaking, KK on the right hand side, the Kinabalu Mountain on the left. I made up my mind to want the land but our spirit was crushed upon stopping at a shop by the roadside. We were told that the owner of the land had sold his 15 acre land, for 80k per acre. I almost drooped to hear the news. 80k per acre? Wow, people can really make money from land. Anyway, in seconds, our dream to build a little kampung on top of the hill, facing the two most beautiful views in KK; the mount Kinabalu and the city, crushed, or so I thought.

It is however not the end of the mission. Hubby's friends are still determined to find a nice place for their retirement. And the more I think of it, the more interesting the idea seem to be. It would be wonderful to have a place on top of the hill, with a lazy creek flowing nearby, with nature sounds all around you, and wonderful people as your neighbours. What bliss...

(After that, we visited my cousin's plot of land in the area, on which he is building his house. To reach there we had to trot a newly build road, all muddy and steep. It was a wonderful exercise although we really had to strain our underused muscles. We learned a little lesson about pioneering- that it took a lot of effort and endurance to own your own land :-))

Read your character from chillies

2010-05-24T21:14:00.003+08:00

Yes, I'm serious. If the Chinese people read one's character from body parts, the Dusuns use chillies. My brother told me this last night. Using our late grandmother as an example, he seemed to be making sense. Our grandmother had always grown very hot chillies; ones that were sought after by everyone, and she was quite a character! Although broadly categorized as 'good' (osonong) and 'bad' (araat), characters can still be in the middle of the two. I'd view it as a continuum of araat (bad), araa-raat (quite bad), osonong-sonong (quite good) and osonong (good). Of course 'good' and 'bad' do not really equate good and bad in the English sense. Good can be soft-hearted, soft-spoken etc, while bad can be fierce, brave in an unnatural way etc. If you want to know how you rate, try growing chillies. According to the Dusuns' belief, if you are a good person your chillies would be mild, maybe even tasteless. (oh yes, I've tasted tasteless chillies!) If you are bad , your chillies would be perfect. So if you are in between, you might get slightly hot ones. I'd really like to know how I rate but unfortunately I am a disappointment to the Dusuns. I can't grow anything. Too bad for me!

Popitolib-tolibon

2010-05-24T20:12:00.004+08:00

I finally figured out that popitolib-tolibon is the Dusuns' effective way of dealing with stress. It basically means "let go and let go". I hear family members saying it all the time, and doing it I supposed. It's like when you are upset by someone's action or remark, you have to act like it has never happened. It might seem to be a form of denial, but the person who has that attitude is normally stress-free.

I decided to try adopting that attitude one morning when stress was mounting. As usual the kids were bickering before leaving for school, the road was all muddy because of the rainy season, and the second daughter, being ever so ladylike, took so long to jump over the little puddle just a step away from where I parked. A neighbour, annoyed that I had to park on the road and blocked his way honked furiously at me. It was only a little incident, and I reasoned that he had the right to be furious because I must have blocked his way for a minute or so when he was rushing out to work, but it still bothered me a little. So popitolib-tolibon came to mind and I focused on forgetting the moments of angry honking and guilty feeling. It worked, didn't it? Well, have to say that actually it is all psychological. Maybe I have to now redefine it as "the power of positive thinking".

'Djin' on my father's orchard

2010-05-17T21:53:00.005+08:00

One of the best things about going back to kampung is hearing stories from the folks. These stories vary in nature-sad, happy, humourous depending on the storyteller's mood. The story of this week is about how my father's orchard has got a djin residing on it. Of course no one in my family knew about it until a fruit buyer came all the way from Semporna to Ranau (about 5 hours drive away) to buy langsats from my father last fruit season.

The person said that something followed him back to his place. Upon consulting a knowledgeable man, he was told that it was a djin from the orchard. A good one. The djin supposedly stays on the land and looks after the land. His dwelling place? The bamboo plants that are abundant there.

Now that is something interesting to know. Most especially when the land was recently trespassed on (rather, somebody decided to reroute the river from being on the land's boundary to exactly in the middle of the land) and when my father brought the case to the court, he won the case before the trial. My folks, being the believers that they are, naturally credited the victory to God with...maybe...some help from the djin, as in Dusun, we have supernatural creatures of equal nature, the rogons. Rogons could be bad or good, depending on how you deal with them. Respect them, and they will do you favours. Offend them and they'll cause you harm. In this era of modern religions, some people reject them totally, while some accomodate them and accept their role as 'the helper', maybe just like angels or slightly of lower level.

No matter what, the story is indeed enlightening. I'm impressed to know that my father's land has a wonderful resident of different makeup then us :-)

of katama, kouyu and kabaya: the changing Dusun language

2010-05-13T09:33:00.005+08:00

When one doesn't have the right language input, one uses words in "colourful" ways. Well sometimes to the annoyance of the language prescriptivists. There are three Dusun words that I notice my brother keeps using in different ways than I think they should. These words are:

katama (dare in the sense of "scared")

kouyu (dare in the sense of "shy")

kabaya (has the time to do something)

In Dusun one of the purposes ko- is added to a word is to show ability.

My brother, being a member of the 90s Dusun generation who speaks very "limited" Dusun at home (sorry 90s generation), would say things like:

1. amu oku ka kouyu (I do not dare)

when what he really means is

2. amu oku kabaya ( I do not have the time (to do something))

(I can't really blame him, as his generation is really the changed generation; the generation whose parents or elder siblings are of the transition generation (from traditional to modern) and speak more Malay/English at home.)

I wonder what will happen after all Dusun speakers of my parents' or my generation have died :-) Either Dusun won't be spoken anymore, which I think won't be the case since most Dusuns are quite patriotic about their heritage, or Dusun would be spoken as a different language. Most likely...

Labour Day Tribute to my mom-in-law- songulun i tokodou o ginawo (a "strong hearted" person)

2010-05-03T21:22:00.006+08:00

My hubby's side of the family had a gathering on 1.o5.10, to remember their late brother's passing 10 years ago, and also just to find the time to be together. My mom-in-law is at the center of it all. Having been a single parent for 28 years, she is both father and mother to all her children. There used to be 9 surviving children, now there are only eight.

I respect my mom-in-law greatly. When her husband died, she was pregnant with the last child, my youngest brother-in-law who is now 28. She was then in her 40s, unemployed, since she didn't have the luxury of getting an education in the post-war era, and with 8 other mouths to feed. Her resilience was and is still great. She tapped rubber and grew rice to ensure that all her children didn't go hungry, and could get a good education. Even though she herself had never been to school, she was very strict to her children about their schooling. Playing truant meant getting punishment in the form of caning.

At first glance she appears very fierce. Well she has to or else her children wouldn't be where they are at present. They all hold good jobs- at least no one has to tap rubber for a living anymore.

Two years ago, mom-in-law was recognized as one of the successful mothers in KK. Her story was written in this special book called "Journeys of the heart: the Malaysian Families". I am glad that her hardwork and sacrifices in raising up her children are acknowledged. I'd attribute her strength, partly in being a Dusun, since okodou o ginawo "strong heartedness" is a virtue very much appreciated by the Dusuns. I mean it doesn't apply to everyone, but people like mom-in-law are definitely strong :-)

rice-wine making revisited

2010-04-26T20:15:00.005+08:00

There's so much rice at home now that I feel guilty about it. Mom keeps sending us more. Not knowing what to do about it, I finally forced myself to give rice-wine making a go again. I cajoled two of my brothers to join in my 'project' and to my delight, they agreed without much convincing.

To start off, I had to call my mom for advice on the dos and donts. It has been years since my last go on it and I didn't want to go wrong. Mom said I have to try making just a few cups first to see if my sasadan "rice sprinkled with yeast" still makes good rice wine. I have to cook some rice, pound some yeast (home made by mom naturally), let the rice cool, sprinkle yeast on it then put it in an airtight container. To make sure it is really airtight, I should tighten the lid with plastic food wrap.

So I cooked 10 cups of rice to be our trial. Since there are some red rice that my kids do not really favour, I decided to use them for variety. I scrubbed my lazy-susan clean and scooped out the rice to cool. Then I divided it into three portions; the largest one for my youngest brother to sasad "sprinkle with yeast", the medium one for me and the smallest one for my other brother. The reasoning? Well, this youngest brother of mine often produces tasty rice wine. Mine is towards bitter tasting but always with a lot of wine, and the other brother hardly ever made any. We are not allowed to do the yeast sprinkling at the same time for fear of spoiling the product. After one portion is done, it had to be put in the container, before continuing with the next portion. According to the Dusun's belief, different palms that touch the yeast produce rice-wine of different tastes.

There, we have done it. Two weeks later we would know the result of our rice-wine making attempt. Hoping that I still have the flair for that!

parai wagu "new rice"

2010-04-22T06:32:00.005+08:00

The Dusuns have all kind of sacred beliefs when it comes to food especially rice. My mom sent us some parai wagu last weekend, having finally had the time to have some husked. She has started harvesting a month ago but as usual never had the time to enjoy her early harvest.

(Parai wagu smells really good and it is even more so for some types of rice. The texture is also different, more glutinous when cooked.)

The thing is, when a Dusun gives you some parai wagu, you are supposed to ask whether the harvest owner has already started cooking from that batch of harvest first. If not, you are supposed to wait until they have, before you can cook the rice yourself. Since I kept forgetting to call my mom to ask whether she has done that, I had to wait a few days before I could finally make sumptous porridge this morning. Normally after two days the harvest owner would have cooked from it. Unlike my mom-in-law who, everytime when giving us parai wagu, always tells us when can we start cooking the rice, my mom normally just assumes that we know when...

Failure to observe the belief will bring harms to the harvest owner. No one I know has ever experienced it, but supposedly it will cause significant reduction on the next cycle of harvest :-)

the colour white

2010-04-13T08:38:00.004+08:00

Looking at Maia the car this morning, I decided that her wash is well overdue. Well she's white and the muddy road condition since the past few days of rain had ensured that she looked messy. So I took her to the car wash a few blocks away from home. It wasn't opened yet but the lady who sells kuih at a stall nearby told me to just park the car there and give the key to the man wearing a white shirt sitting under the tree.

So off I went in search of a man in white under the tree. There were two men, one wearing a blue shirt, and the other, pale grey. I looked at them and it occured to me that probably the lady means grey when she said white. After all she is obviously a Dusun, judging from her accent when she speaks Malay. I remember that my late grandmother would call any pale colour 'white'. And there's even a type of chilli that to me is pale-yellow, that the Dusuns call lado do topurak "white chilli". I asked them if any of them happens to be the owner of the car wash, and true enough, the man in grey is!

(my lado'd topurak, after two weeks in the fridge!)

Guntalou- neighbour oh neighbour

2010-04-09T08:28:00.004+08:00

The word guntalou keeps haunting me since yesterday. It means "coward" or to a lesser extent, "not very brave" in Dusun. Well, not referring to myself. It's kind of funny in an annoying way actually. A neighbour, apparently unhappy with my son and nephews left an "angry note" in my mailbox yesterday. The note says that my son had been tormenting her daughter's kitten on the road the other day when I wasn't at home, and that she (or he?) was looking out from the window, and that if that happens again, s/he will take action and that KAMU AKAN TAHU "you will know".

There was no name or address written on the note. Understandably, the neighbour was angry. So I interrogated my son and nephews. They admitted to being naughty i.e to let the puppy of my nephews chase after the kitten. Sternly I gave them a lecture on animal cruelty and ordered them to apologise to the little girl soon. Kids being kids, they didn't even know 'which little girl'. My cousin, the nephew's Dad took his eldest son (that's my nephew who's sort of the ring leader of the boys) knocking on people's doors to find out who the angry neighbour was and to apologise last night.

Well, I know the boys are wrong, and I do feel that they really should apologise and learn not to be too playful to the extent of tormenting animals. And of course I'm going to make sure that I remind them of this every now and then. But dear neighbour, I wish s/he talked to me in a more direct manner. At least give me a name and an address so I can do the right thing. Instead, here I am left with the thought that somebody is being so guntalou...

Harvest Season

2010-03-30T18:16:00.005+08:00

At my area in Ranau, the Dusuns are now busy harvesting their crops. The season started some time at the end of February and will come to its end by May. Among the various Dusun localities in Sabah, there are various harvesting times. My area is one of those that ends the harvest time just in time to celebrate the kaamatan, the celebration of harvest; the thanksgiving to the rice spirit, Bambarayon.

My parents still observe the harvest ritual, sumalud, albeit a modern version of it. In the olden days the crop owner(s) would have brought a chicken to the rice-field, chanted some thanksgiving and asking for a bounty harvest words, then took the chicken home, slaughtered it and feasted on it. Nowadays, they simply go to the rice-field, pray that the harvest season will be smooth and the crops bountiful, and have some kind of special dinner with family members at home.

At times I long to go to the rice-field, wearing a wide-brim hat (used to be the traditional sirung "cone-shape big hat"), long-sleeve shirt and boots for protection, and using langgaman "a special hand knife to harvest the rice stalk", cutting the rice stalks to fill my wakid "large basket". Maybe it's time that I go back and do that.

No "no"?

2010-03-22T12:40:00.006+08:00

That's the Dusun society in general. You are discouraged to say "no". Maybe because the community is very close-knit. Saying no equates to refusing to lend a hand. Which is against the 'mogitatabang' (helping each other) spirit. Well at least that's how it was in the olden days. Or maybe because you are considered hurting other's feelings if you say no. The Dusuns do not like that...

Anyway, the new era demands you to be more assertive. And that includes being able to say "no". That is one of the hardest thing to learn. Somebody mentioned his struggle with learning to say 'no' the other day. He said it took him years to do that. But thankfully after he did it once, it got easier.

Hmm, same here actually. But for me that was 14 years ago, thankfully. And I didn't even realise that that is a Dusun trait, a remnant from the olden society. My supervisor said she had a problem with my work performance i.e I wasn't assertive. She asked me to work on that because the way she saw it, people were taking advantage of me. My, that was a shock to me. Didn't realise that non-assertiveness is a problem at the workplace. So I learnt, and changed, and said 'no', firstly with this most uncomfortable feeling like you are comitting a crime. I'm glad those were the days. Nowadays I can say 'no' when I have to. At least saying it has now become a choice, not something I have to do to please others.

The conversation on this topic makes me think that the Dusun people at large are still uncomfortable saying 'no'. I wonder if that would change soon or remain so for a long time yet...

Politeness

2010-03-18T11:49:00.003+08:00

In Dusun, there are a few levels of politeness. If you are younger, you are definitely expected to be polite to anyone older than you (as of many Asian societies). You are also expected to be polite to outsiders, and people you seldom meet. And of course, you are also expected to be polite to strangers, unless if the stranger is rude to you. Parents are not expected to be polite to their children. This aspect sometimes causes confusion to little kids. They'd start asking "why am I expected to say 'please' and 'thank you' when my parents don't do that?" So modern parents normally put aside this aspect of culture and teach their children by example...

Politeness is mostly expressed in speech, like command or request. There are a few words that you can use to indicate politeness such as 'po', 'gia/gima', 'da', and 'ka'. For example:

1. Ongoi po akan aki

go polite eat grandfather

Please go eat, grandfather.

Gia/gima (used in different dialects)

2. Onuo gia doho lo/onuo gima dogo lo

get polite I that

Please get that for me

3. Kada da kotiil

don't polite be.naughty

Please don't be naughty

4. Hiti ko po ka

here you polite

Stay here first, ok?

It takes some time to master this aspect of the Dusun language. But with practice, it is ok :)

No open dispute

2010-03-16T09:36:00.007+08:00

In the Dusun society, open dispute is discouraged. People are supposed to be 'all smiles and no sour faces', something really hard to practice in this era. I, for example, have had to breach the Dusun's code of politeness when I had to write about my bitter experience dealing with a shipping company (in my other blog 'Blogging Life'). From a mere expression of dissapointment, it became a an open dispute when, instead of admitting their faults, the shipping company rep accused my husband of spreading lies and slandering them in the comment section of my blog. Worse, they sent an email to the Malaysian yahoo group, (to whom, earlier my husband shared our bitter experience with in an email, cc-ed to the company of course), deleting my husband from the mailing list but forgetting to delete me, telling everyone that what my husband said were all lies, and slander. That, of course led to an open dispute that this Dusun lady couldn't avoid. (if you are interested to know the story, do read my entry 'the shipment story' in Blogging Life).

Dispute is not good. Being Dusun, I naturally do not feel good about having to be in one. But life demands that we fight for justice. And I feel that that is what I'm doing.

In the Dusun society, I think the way we handle dispute is not very good. We talk about the people that we are having problems with to others, but in front of them, we are expected to put on a smiley face. From another perspective, that is considered 'badmouthing others'. Although considering the Dusun culture, I can't really blame the society for keeping on with the tradition. I remember once someone I know had to face an opponent over a major land dispute in a government office. The person could still shake hand with the opponent and said "hiti ko pama iya ddi" ("you are also here"), a polite greeting in Dusun :-). But most Dusuns are learning to cope with dispute more professionally now, myself included. It is better to bring an issue out in the open and find a settlement that satisfies oneself, rather than keeping it behind and talk bad about it to others.

It's hard on this Dusun lady here, but coping :)

The Changing Society: farewell to a grandaunt

2010-03-08T12:25:00.006+08:00

A grandaunt passed away last Sunday. I have only met her once in the 1980s in a very peculiar situation. It was during the funeral of her eldest son, and this particular grandaunt and my late grandmother were "conducting" the mourning ritual. The son died a Dusun with Dusun traditional beliefs. He was buried one.

I can't say it was a fond memory, because the mourning ritual shocked and scared the teenage me witless. All the whining and crying periods which were intermittent with jokes and drinking really confused me then. Now of course I understand that that was how it was supposed to be. That the mourners (often older people) have to say things like "oh why did you have to die before me? You have so much to live for, I should have died first", sob loudly, then take breaks to drink rice-wine and as they were drinking, they'd joke with others to lighten the sadness. (I know it is hard for most people to understand that).

When my father called to let me know the news, I heard in the background the Islamic rites for the dead being conducted. I asked him whether the grandaunt finally decided to have a religion, and Dad told me, yes, she converted to Islam last year or so. While I am happy for her to have found the true faith for her heart, I do find it interesting that she once conducted the mourning ritual for her son the traditional way, and now being farewelled in a different way. But all in all, I think she found her peace in Islam. May her soul rest in peace.

on 'unsikou' (grateful)

2010-03-06T23:16:00.003+08:00

My little brother (well, he is 19 :)) suddenly realized this morning that the Dusun's 'pounsikou' (used to mean 'thank you') actually has the root 'unsikou' which more or less refers to 'grateful feeling'. Excitedly he told me that in some of the Dusun dialects he knows, people use 'kounsikou' to say 'thank you'. And that people say 'nounsikou' when somebody made them grateful. Well done, brother...you are finally having a Dusun language awareness. It is indeed interesting that just from one root word a lot of meanings can be expressed:

1. munsikou (being grateful)
2. minunsikou (was grateful)
3. ounsikou (is happy, grateful, thankful)
4. nounsikou (is made happy, grateful, thankful- often unexpectedly)
5. pounsikou/kounsikou (thank you)
6. unsikoho (be thankful- normally used in command)
7. mongunsikou (thanking someone)
8. mingunsikou (thanking someone over and over again)

...and so on and so forth.

Dusun is a rich language I have to say...

Down memory lane- 'mimbatu'

2010-02-22T20:34:00.002+08:00

'Mimbatu' as the name suggests has something to do with stones (watu=stones), or more likely pebbles. It is a game played by every Dusun girl when I was growing up. (I don't quite remember whether boys played it too but I have a feeling that they thought the game too 'girlish' that it would actually tarnish their macho outlook should they play it...)

Last CNY holidays hubby and I decided to take the kids to Kg.Luanti, Ranau, a place famous for its fish. They are no ordinary fish, they do you a service of removing cuticles and 'sucking body wind' (supposedly) off your feet. All you have to do is dip your feet in the river and they'll happily bit on them. Of course you have to pay RM5 (or RM15 for non-Malaysians) but that'd get you a 15-min feet-dip in the river. But this is a digression...the main entry is about mimbatu...

On another section of the river, one can dip oneself for as long as one wishes to for free. That's where we went to after the fish-biting session. And that's where I saw the pebbles that are just perfect for 'mimbatu'. They are about the size of small marbles, quite smooth but not very round. I collected seven, the number required in the game and decided to show the kiddies what fun was like when I was growing up, long before the internet era :-)

This is how the game is played(At least 2 players play the game, siting face to face on the floor. They choose which one has the first go):

1. First you hold all seven rocks on your palm and gently throw them on the ground.
2. Pick a stone, throw it up the air, quickly pick one of the remaining stones on the floor and catch the thrown stone.
3. Repeat the process untill all six stones are collected.
4. If you managed to successfully pick all six stones without dropping any, then you go on to the next level.
5. The next level is to gently put the 7 stones on the ground, pick one to be the throwing stone but instead of picking one off the ground, this time you pick two.
6. Having done this successfully, you go on to the next level which is to pick 3 stones, then 4 + 2, 5 + 1, and finally all 6 off the ground at one go.
7. If at any level of the game you dropped a stone, your turn is over and you have to hand over the stones to your opponent.
8. The one who gets to the 6-at-one-go level is declared the winner.

Of course, the game sounds so simple but actually it is not. It takes a good motor skill and coordination, plus one can show off by throwing the stone as high as one can up on the air and catching it with style. And as I expected, none of my kids can do it. What a sad thing. Maybe if it is made into a virtual game they would find it much more appealing...

Goroi

2010-02-10T22:17:00.004+08:00

Somebody mentioned a very interesting piece of information about the Dusun's 'goroi'(large jar) today. She said that in one of the Dusun villages she visited, very old gorois are used as rice-wine containers, when once upon a time they were used for burial purposes. (Goroi, by the way is just one of the many types of jar that the Dusun people kept. I don't really know how many types are there, but the common ones are called the 'kakanan' (tajau in Malay). These are used for keeping rice wine).

Goroi, on the other hand, refers to the large type. Very large indeed that an adult body can be fitted in one(sitting down, naturally). Instead of coffins, gorois were what used to keep the deads then. They would be buried somewhere near the house of the family, as there were no burial plots back then.

This is where my knowledge of this stop. I wonder what would happen to the buried gorois. Perhaps they would remain buried until somebody from the next generations stumbled upon them and decided to keep them again (??).

Anyhow, the thought that somebody is keeping rice-wine in burial gorois (no matter that it was done long time ago), is a bit distasteful. I just hope it's not one of my foreparents that were kept in whatever gorois they now use for rice-wine making...

When one chokes on something...the Dusun traditional remedy

2010-01-29T14:51:00.005+08:00

Mom finally taught me this little chant. (Mom is well-known among the family members and some neighbours to be the person to see when they choke on stuffs like fish-bones)It is supposed to be used to remove the thing that one chokes on. And being me, I definitely treasure this:

Pongidu do lugon (To remove a 'choke')
(repeat 7 times)

adik adik ka di lintang
adik di tandarakai
tandarakai di lugu
lugu di tondolugon
ka dit tumbuk lugon
idu tonggoi.

This little chant remains untranslatable. Yours truly hasn't mastered the language to do that yet. But with faith, it works.

(I think it works because when one is chanting something repeatedly, one gets into a very focussed mode and one's energy will work as intended. Just like a prayer)

The last ritual- 'tohun'

2010-01-11T13:09:00.007+08:00

After a few days of cleaning up and de-junking, I came across an old plastic bag that contained something that looked like charcoals on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. I looked at the 'things' for a long time, asked hubby if he knew what they were, and he said they looked like charcoals, affirming what I thought. He said charcoals can get rid of bad smells so I decided to put the bag in the cabinet underneath the sink, where I keep my kitchen bins.

I've forgotten all about it when hubby suddenly asked if it was possible that those 'things' were 'tohun' and I jumped off my chair because I suddenly remembered! Yes, they are 'tohun', which are pieces of burnt firewoods that have been sort of 'chanted on' and have special purposes. And these particular ones are the last 'tohun' my late grandmother ritualized in 2006 before she passed away a year later. The first thing that came to mind was, 'tohun' can't be stepped over. Thankful that I haven't broken that rule, I quickly recovered the bag and put the 'tohun' in this jar:

I sat for a while and reminisced. And decided to write all my late grandmother's instructions on the jar to be a lasting memory. Grandmother's words came back loud and clear:

1. Tohuns are to be used to get rid of bad energy from a young child's body, the one that makes a child sick or cranky.
2. Use it before leaving the house for a journey, or even at home when necessary.
3. Take a piece of it, move it around the child's body starting from the navel and stopping at the navel too and throw away the used one on the ground where the energy would dissolved.
4. DO NOT ever step over unused tohuns!

Guiltily, I tried to remember if I ever did use it as she instructed. I might have, once before I left for Perth again after my fieldwork. I wish I could use it again but now that the children are all big, I don't think I should. Plus I have forgotten exactly how to do it and when in doubt, one shouldn't act, I think.

Anyhow, in memory of grandmother, I am preserving them for the future generations. Once, this was our practice. It is still our culture albeit a disappearing one. It will always hold a special place in my heart.

The Dusuns' one hour :-)

2009-12-27T12:28:00.000+08:00

My paternal aunt and her husband celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary yesterday. It was such a beautiful celebration, what with her children (I think there must be about a dozen of them), who are all grown up, and her grandchildren/great grandchildren were all gathered up. And the place, Bundu Tuhan, is such a bonus. Fresh air, nice temperature, just like spring in Perth, it made for a beautiful party setting.

My kids were reintroduced to another aspect of Dusun culture, the Dusuns' sense of time. Very true to what my friends always say: "where there are two or three Dusuns gathered together, they can sit and talk for hours on end". The lunch reception started at 1pm. The kids asked me how long were we going to be there, to which I answered, "an hour". We arrived at about 1.30pm, when the party was just starting. As usual there were so much party food, catered to feed the whole village population and some.

Meeting long lost cousins was definitely exciting. After food, the merry making begun. (Since the Dusuns are well known for their hedonism, it would never do not to have some music in a party; at least a karaoke set). Yours truly got carried away too, that she agreed to sing two songs (duet with a sister-in-law of course because yours truly isn't a professional singer!) and danced a few dances. The best part of course was having the first dance with the uncle who's the 'groom'. He is well-known to be a serious person, but surprisingly agreed to have that dance! What a wonderful feeling :-)

Anyway, the kids were watching the clock all the time, waiting for that 'one hour' to come. (Thankfully they got to know some cousins who were too fascinating not to pay attention to in the end). Needless to say, the one hour dragged on that we only managed to get away from the party at about 5.30pm. (Well I wouldn't have minded staying till the end if it wasn't raining and the road condition was a bit better though). My eldest came to this conclusion- "if mom says "an hour" to attend a Dusun party, it would probably mean 3 or 4 hours". Well done, daughter. You have been successfully reintroduced into the culture :-)

Clans

2009-12-12T07:21:00.004+08:00

It's strange how a simple conversation can trigger a thought. Last night, as I was enjoying BBQ with my dear friends for the last time before my family moves back to KK tomorrow (and breaking the rule of no heavy food for dinner *sigh*), the topic of family gathering came up. One of the friends is going home for the christmas holiday and is looking forward to her family reunion. As she describes the activities of their family reunion which have started this month, I was impressed to know that her extended family can actually form teams for sport matches etc. I said to her that in the olden day, her family would have formed a Dusun clan which was entitled to have a 'village'. Awesome.

In the olden days, clans are formed most of all from family members. They would have lived in some sort of long house that continued to grow longer as more members of the family got married. One immediate family occupied one hall of the house, with its own kitchen. During a ritual which always involved eating though, the family that conducted the ritual was obliged to cook for the whole long house members. If they had any members who lived in another longhouse because of a marriage, these people must also be sent some of the food. I'd imagined that it must really have been time-consuming to count all the family members within a walking distance (even if that would mean a half hour walk or so) to be sent food to.

Each clan normally identified themselves by naming the place their house is located in. And those places would be named based on the geographical features, direction or based on a natural landmark like a river, a tree etc. For example, a place located uphill of the village would be called 'sokid' (upper part), and a place on the foot of a hill would be 'siba'.

And so my friend's family would have been one of these clans in the olden days.

Turadan-a traditional medicine for stomache upset

2009-12-06T08:37:00.007+08:00

It started with the family's week-long holiday in Melbourne last week. It was something I've been looking forward to for a long time and have set to enjoy come what may. Day 1 through to 4, it was indeed great great and great.

But alas, second half of day 5 started to go not so good when the little one started complaining of stomache-ache, and started vomitting uncontrolably. Needless to say, day 5's sightseeing was cut short to allow little one to have his rest. I thought the worst was over on Day 6, but it was not to be. Thinking that it was a normal traveller's virus, I simply headed to a pharmacy and bought some familiar medicine and decided to forgo taking him to the doctor. Day 6 turned out to be 'rest day' for 'the mom' and the kids while 'the dad' attended his conference. He seemed better on Day 7 that I decided to take the kids to the museum while waiting for 'the dad' to finish his conference. But how wrong was I. He started vomitting again after morning tea, so bad that 'the dad' had to take him home by taxi soon after his conference. Determined to enjoy that last day, 'the mom' and the girls roamed the city for hours till late.

Little one didn't get better. I realized the graveness of the situation when he could only be comforted by a long rub on his stomache. By the next day when we were at the airport leaving for perth, it was too late to take him to the doctor. Plus, the airport clinic was closed as it was a saturday. Little one was so dehydrated and lost so much weight and energy he had to be pushed on a wheelchair.

Home finally at about 5.30pm yesterday. 'The dad' suddenly remembered that his mom gave us some seeds called 'turadan' that has been tried and tested by Dusuns of many generations to cure stomache upset.

I don't know how the fruit actually looks like because my mom-in-law always gave us the core of the seed that looks like some kind of peanut. The dad sliced it thinly as per mom-in-law's instruction, put in a glass and poured some boiling water over it. When the water cooled, we gave some to the little one to drink.

This morning, as predicted, he woke up feeling good. No more pain and no more vomitting. Now still trying to be somewhat skeptical, 'the dad' said 'maybe it's just a coincidence'. Coincidence? I don't think so. I've witnessed the effect of 'turadan' several times, even experienced it myself. I prefer to believe that this little, unattractive-looking seed does have medicinal values. Unstudied, perhaps, but medicinal values pretty much the same...

Lihing

2009-11-24T23:26:00.003+08:00

While I've never been a good drinker, nor I will ever be one, I have an appreciation for all things traditional. Lihing is one of them. Although I don't drink lihing as a beverage, I do love its flavor in chicken soup. To the Dusuns, lihing is an essential confinement food. (In fact my mom-in-law and my mom conspired to make me have lihing soup with 'kampung chicken' (uncaged chicken) every day for two weeks on my confinements, even though they know I am not a 'kampung chicken' eater! )

Anyway, back to lihing. This particular one in the picture above is my family's small business venture (again described in the other pic). My mom is the producer, of course. From making the sasad (yeast), to cooking the pulut (glutinous rice), to bottling the wine, she does everything the traditional way. (My aunts lend a hand too of course- I've never seen such united female siblings as my mom and her sisters :-)).

I'd have preferred the lihing to be bottled in glass bottles instead of the plastic bottles that they use. It's not good for the environment. But I guess it is easier and cheaper for my mom to get plastic bottles supply.

My mom's lihing has a special bittersweet flavour. We use vinometer to test the alcohol content, and it is approximately 23%. (that's my tentative finding, which will be tested further the first chance I have next). Basically lihing is produced this way: cook some glutinous rice, scoop it out and spread to cool on a clean plastic cover on top of a clean table, pound some yeast, and when the rice is cooled off, spread the yeast all over it. Store in jars or big buckets with tight lids. Leave to ferment for at least a week, but of course the longer you leave it, the better. My mom's rule of thumb is a month. After a month, tip out the wine into a water container, and transfer to bottles, ready for consumption.

I grew up seeing the process that I think I can actually do it blindfolded. It was a mixed feeling when I was growing up. At one point I felt like my mom's business is offensive, since ...come on, this is Malaysia, people shouldn't consume alcohol. Then I realized that just because some people can't consume, it doesn't mean that it is wrong to have this business. After all, Dusuns still need lihing at least for confinement. And we keep it within the consumer circle anyway. Now I am at peace with lihing and fully intend to pass on the lihing making knowledge to the future generation. Teach them culture and teach them the sense of responsibility, and our world will continue to be a happy little place.

Bunsuton: a Dusun myth

2009-11-08T20:33:00.006+08:00

Last night I went to see the Joseph Ashton's family circus with the family. Since it was my first time seeing a real circus performing, I was in awe of the many acts they performed, esp the acrobatic feats.The 7th generation of Ashtons lives up to their reputation. I am indeed impressed.

Anyway, having been brought up with the Dusun tale 'bunsuton', I cringed a bit to watch the cute dogs performing. One of them, obviously a girl wore a cute pink mini-skirt, and they all did amazing tricks.

Back to bunsuton- in the Dusun folklore, there is this story about a community who made a dog and a cat dance together. While the two poor creatures were dancing, the members of the community supposedly laughed their hearts out at that. A young bride from the community who was fetching water met a creature with horns as sharp as axe, who asked her to ask the people to stop their silly entertainment, or else the creature would cause them harms. The bride did as she was asked but no one listened to her. The creature then ordered her to run away from the place with her husband, and using its sharp horns, caused some kind of landslide and flood, and killed all the people who made fun of the animals.

Of course this is merely a myth, but it is so ingrained in me that I had to hold myself from laughing out loud to see the cute tricks of the dogs :-)

I guess what this really tells is that we have to respect animals. I can appreciate the moral of the story though I think the punishment that the people received was a bit too harsh :-)

Mangasok (Hill rice planting)

2009-10-31T11:00:00.007+08:00

Chatting with a recently met fellow chatter at sabahan Flash Chat last night (thanks BD, this is for you :-)), the word 'mangasok' was mentioned. It has been so long since I took part in one. Mangasok is actually an event when a cleared plot of land is planted with rice seeds. It used (and looks like still is in some parts) to be done 'mogitatabang' (working-together) style.

A 'mangasok' is normally begun with some kind of ritual from the host. In my place it is called 'poirikau' (to cause something to sit). In this case that 'something' is a wakid or a basung (large baskets that people carry on their backs that are normally used to carry heavy stuffs). It is symbolic- hoping that the next harvest would be bountiful. A prayer or a chant would be said and the event can then be started.

Two groups are formed. The first group, normally consisting of men or those with a high energy level would punch holes on the ground using sharpened sticks. This is not as easy as it sounds. The sticks are quite long and heavy, usually from freshly cut small trees. The second group, which mostly consists of women will fill the holes with rice seeds. This is called monumpos. Sometimes the 'monunumpos' (people putting the rice seeds in the holes) will make a competition, of who can fill holes the neatest, i.e without spilling the seeds outside of the holes. And it is done standing up, about 3 feet or least from the holes. Not an easy task I'd say.

The mangasok athmosphere is what I miss the most-people bantering, joking, even singing. And when the whole plot (which could be from 1-3 acres) is 'naasakan' (been done with), the group would normally proceed to the host's house or sulap (hut) for a meal. It used to be the host that provided special meals for the people who helped. The last time I participated though, people have started doing it pot-luck style. In my place, it continued on till night- people will have a socializing session, mostly involving one or two drinks. Now, I never did enjoy that part, because intoxicated people scare me (always, there would be one who had a bit too much to drink). But I guess now that I'm older, I am not so scared anymore :-)

Still, the word 'mangasok' brings back nostalgic memories. Thanks BD for telling you were going mangasok today...'mummy' loves that so much!

Getting to know Bongkoron :-)

2009-10-28T10:15:00.005+08:00

In Dusun folklore, there is one character that is always portrayed as the 'baddy'- Bongkoron. He is the exact opposite of Anak-anak, the hero who is always hardworking, obedient, honest, focussed, successful, and the list of positive qualities goes on. Bongkoron, on the other hand, is the lazy one, the one who lies to his parents and friends, and opts for the easy way out, because he is too lazy to do tasks given to him, the one who's always unsuccessful...and needless to say, the one who is rejected in the community.

A friend in FB once wrote on their status, something to this effect= "poor Bongkoron had attention deficit disorder (ADD)". That got me thinking. Maybe that is actually true. ADD, the modern day term for distracted persons, seems to be applicable to Bongkoron. Because he was so distracted, he didn't get to fulfill his potentials in his life. It is just unfortunate that poor Bongkoron lived in a time (hypothetically) when differences in personality and learning styles were not known yet. Or Bongkoron could have been that way because of lack of discipline and will, who knows. Poor, misunderstood Bongkoron...

Come to think of it, many of us are actually Bongkorons in one way or the other. For one thing, too much entertainment can make us Bongkoron. I know for sure that addiction to the internet is one of the factors contributing to 'Bongkoronness'. But having said this, maybe Bongkoron could have changed if only somebody told him to use his time well, to set a particular time to do his chores, to choose a place where he could have avoided distractions in order to achieve a goal, while at the same time satisfy his need for entertainment and relaxation after doing everything he needs to do for his living...(Maybe by empathizing with Bongkoron I am actually trying to defend my own addiction to the internet?).

The sound of home

2009-10-19T22:53:00.004+08:00

I've only recently discovered Sabah's very own latest online radio station here:

http://sabahan.fm/listen.pls

and the community that keeps it alive here:

http://www.sabahan.net/

A few days of listening to the DJs' entertaining chats and music had me arrived to this conclusion: that Sabahan.FM is truly home. It reflects the community that I know and grew up in. One that celebrates unity in diversity in the real sense of the words. In the past few days, I've probably listened to more songs in English, Malay, Hindi, Kadazan, Dusun, Chinese, Bajau, Murut, Filipino and almost every other minority ethnic group in Sabah than I ever had before. Amazing!

Home might be merely a small corner in Malaysia, but the internet has made it possible for the sound of home to reach far-flung places, places where Sabahans away from home might feel extremely homesick.

Anyway, one of the songs I have listened to over and over again is called 'sayang itu masa' (the time is wasted). Here goes some of the lyrics:

"sayang itu masa
kalau ditinggal-tinggal
...sudah nokopitunang
bagus makan belanja"

(the time is wasted
if it is left (not used)
...already engaged
why not have the wedding reception"

or something like that.

It is so 'Sabah', and yet one gets the feeling that one is listening to a Dusun song. Well maybe it's the injection of Dusun words like 'nokopitunang'. Or could it be the use of Dusun style expressions in Malay? Words like 'ditinggal-tinggal', or 'makan belanja' that are typical of Dusun expressions? Or could it be the music that is typical sumazau beat? I supposed it a combination of all those.

Speaking of which, is becoming more and more of a trend in the Dusun music industry. Songs like 'Tinggi tinggi Gunung Kinabalu' (As high as the Kinabalu Mountain), 'Nasihat buaya pencen' (advice of a retired 'crocodile') and the like are some examples. (I remember that this started some time in the early 90s, a phenomenon that was interesting enough to have caused me to do a mini research for one of my Malay Letters undergraduate courses then.)

Now I understand that this too is a reflection of the language change that is gradually taking place in Dusun. I won't be surprised if in the future a Dusun song will mean a song with full Sabah Malay lyrics, albeit with Dusun cultural music. In fact the days for that seem to be fast approaching.

on the Dusun -um- (pengimbuhan)

2009-10-09T23:08:00.004+08:00

I came across this blog today- http://www.uskal.net/2009/01/mari-belajar-bahasa-dusun.html#comments. (Forgive me for having not known before). I must say I am so pleased to see that people are actually discussing the language :-). I share the wish of many, that one day there will be a simplified grammar of Dusun for people to refer to.

Anyway, somebody asked what is the difference between 'luyud' (flood) and 'lumuyud' (flood). There is no simple way of answering this, except that to say 'luyud' is the root word (kata akar) and 'lumuyud' is the affixed word (kata imbuhan). For speakers of Malay, we can almost say that:

luyud = banjir
lumuyud = kejadian banjir (membanjir , although membanjir sounds a bit weird).

Most of the time, 'lumuyud' is used to refer to the action as in:

(1) Lumuyud i bawang do Liwogu (The Liwogu river is flooding)

but it can also be used to refer to the river that is flooding as in:

(2) i lumuyud (the one that is flooding = the river that is flooding)

How, then, can we tell the difference of uses?

When a word that has -um- in it is used to refer to the action, it is normally used in the beginning of a sentence like (1) When it is used to refer to an non-action, it is always preceded by 'i' or 'o' that function somewhat like the English article 'the', like in (2). Of course it can also be preceded by words like 'iti' (this), and 'ino' (that), which basically tells that it is functioning like a noun (kata nama).

There you go...I was in my language-teacher mood, hence, this topic :-)

The cultural centrality of 'ginao/ginawo'

2009-10-05T19:10:00.006+08:00

Literally translates "liver", 'ginao (ginawo)' in Dusun has a cultural centrality in the linguistic expressions of the Dusun people. This is hardly surprising, as across the societies in Southeast Asia (as Robert Blust writes in his book "The Austronesian languages"), 'liver words' are really significant. As regards the 'liver words' in Dusun and Malay (in which is 'hati'), some meanings are quite synonymous, but others are simply opposites that even a bilingual speaker can easily get confused. In a way, liver is synonym to 'heart', the locus of emotions. Here are some expressions that I can think of:

Dusun
1. Agayo (o) ginao ('o' is often dropped in rapid speech) "big liver" = happy, open to a suggestion, an idea etc.
2. Okoto (o) ginao "small liver" = angry, irritated
3. Araat (o) ginao "bad liver" = hurt, offended, angry, worried
4. Osusa (o) ginao "difficult liver" = sad
5. Oruol (o) ginao "sick liver" = 1)angry, annoyed 2)pity (thanks to Kombura for pointing this out)
6. Osoriba (o) ginao "low liver" = humble
7. Mongongoi (do) ginao "fetching the liver" = to win someone's affection

Some of these expressions coincide with the Malay ones, given as follows:
Malay
1. Besar hati "big liver" = 1) happy, 2) presumptuous
2. Kecil hati "small liver" = bear a grudge
3. Busuk hati "rotten liver" = ill-nature, malice, 'dirty-feeling'
4. Bakar hati "burn liver" = angry emotion
5. Sakit hati "sick heart" = resentment, annoyance, anger, ill-will
6. Putih hati "white liver" = sincere, pure-hearted
7. Ambil hati "fetch the liver" = 1) win someone's affection, 2)feel insulted/sulky
(It looks like Malay has a way of using the same expression for two contrasting meanings like in 1. and 7. How interesting!)

Now I am wondering whether there is the expression 'rendah hati' = "low liver" in Malay that means "humble", just as the Dusun one. Hmm...talk about being confused.

By the way, there is one 'heart word' (of course heart is related to liver :-)) that Malay has that Dusun doesn't have- 'jantung pisang', meaning "the heart of banana" i.e this one here:

on 'tapun'

2009-09-30T19:00:00.005+08:00

Ask any Dusun, and they'd know what 'tapun' is. It's not so easy to define the word, though. In fact, I think there is no apt definition in English. It's a word we say to avoid 'opuhunan', i.e harms as a result of not eating the food we thought of eating.

So 'tapun' is really a food word. Food, to the Dusuns is almost sacred. You cannot say you want to eat something and not eat it before leaving the house or the place where you thought of eating that something. The least you could do is say 'tapun', and that will do the job of preventing you from being exposed to harms, mostly in the form of bodily injuries. Some say it is especially important that one eats a little when one feels like eating egg or meat. Those two are considered to result in most harmful effects if not eaten. Of course, my personal belief is if you just say 'tapun' a few times (with emphasis on the word), you'll be out of harm's way!

There are many variants of 'tapun'. I've heard of 'tudu bangat lapas puhun' (which is something like 'touch one's fill (food) and out of harm's way'), 'tudu bangat' (touch the food that fills), and 'tapun', the most commonly used.

In the Dusun household, children acquire the word unconsciously if they live in an area that is predominantly Dusuns. A culture acquired that way is hard to get rid of (not that I want to). Just the other day I caught myself and a group of friends (who have lived out of Malaysia for years), saying the word a few times when discussing Hari Raya foods that our family and friends must had been having right then back home. Hmm...Hari Raya season away from home sure makes one say 'tapun' over and over again.

The next life-the Dusuns' traditional belief

2009-09-22T22:51:00.004+08:00

It is expected that in the era of major world religions, this is not a belief that most Dusuns will readily accept. Nonetheless, it is something that is worth knowing, if only for the sake of getting to know one's heritage.

The Dusuns believed (note the use of past tense- to emphasize that it is almost impossible to find a believer nowadays) that the rusod 'soul' of the departed first went to Pongoluhan, a place high up above that most thought must be on top of the Mount Kinabalu. Then they moved on to the next life, wherever that was. It was supposed to be closer to the world of the livings than the livings realized, for the departed could see the livings. They could even be called up from their world if such needs arose, but this could only be done by the bobolians 'shaman' though.

In the next life it was believed that everything was in the opposite direction from the world of the livings. But way of life was supposed to be the same. There, the departed would reunite with family members who died before them. The departed was also supposed to take with them their possessions on earth. That's why during the funeral, they would need a proper sendoff in the forms of material things. The most common ones being rice, canned foods, clothes, and some of their favourite items while living. In small quantity, that is. Either the Dusuns practiced the concept of symbolism, or...they were too thrifty that they couldn't let themselves waste material things for the sake of the deceased. I'm not sure whether money was ever one of the sendoff items though- I've never seen that on any graveyards before. Perhaps money was too precious to waste? Or money wasn't relevant in the past?

It was perceived that the more items the departed was given as a sendoff, the easier his next life journey would be.

In my parents' village, I know of a person who still believes in this practice. Her reason? Because her husband was buried years ago with the same practice. She refuses to embrace any religion for fear that she might not see the love of her life ever again in the afterlife if she does so. Now that is a truly remarkable lady...

Happy Malaysia Day

2009-09-16T16:27:00.005+08:00

Come to think of it, the Dusuns (and Sabahans/Sarawakians) have only been Malaysians for 46 years today. In 1963 the federation of Malaysia was formed, consisting Malaya, Singapore, Sabah and Sarawak. I can then say that my parents generation "converted" to Malaysia (and they have done an excellent job of embracing their nationality- proud of you my folks).

The sad thing about this fact is that not many people realize the importance of September 16th. I suppose we give too much emphasis on 31st August 1957, the day Malaya gained its independence from British. When we learned history in school (and I used to be quite good at it, although in the process of aging I've lost the penchant for memorizing dates except for people's birthdays), no history textbooks have ever given emphasis on the importance of 16th Sept 1963. It is not even a public holiday in other states in Malaysia except for Sabah.

Now this is an error that needs to be corrected. I believe giving a proper acknowledgement to 16th Sept will benefit all Malaysians- at the very least, it will appease many Sabahans and Sarawakians who feel mistreated, among others, because of the non-acknowledgement of the date.

Well some people might demand that 16th September be made the national day instead of 31st August. But the leaders do not have to comply to that. I remember watching on TV sometime last year here in Aus, a certain event when the aboriginal people demanded that Australia Day date be changed to another day because they feel that the present date actually symbolizes 'invasion'. Prime Minister Kevin Rudd firmly but politely said 'no'. Malaysian leaders can do the same- refuse to change the indipendence day date firmly but politely if ever any Malaysians asked for such thing. I am very sure, being the peaceful people that we are, no one will actually take it to bloodshed level. What I have learnt from the leaders of countries like Australia is that there are good ways to deal with demands and dissatisfaction of the people. Our leaders have yet to learn those ways, I guess. But like many, I do hope 16th Sept will be given the acknowledgement it deserves.

Happy Malaysia Day my fellow Malaysians. Dusuns, if you haven't already known (because the textbooks might have not taught you well), or if you have forgotten, this is the day we became Malaysians 46 years ago :-) May God (whoever or whatever God is according to your understanding) continue to bless us with peace and harmony.

The Mythical Tree

2009-09-14T13:47:00.005+08:00

I wonder if any Dusuns still try to relate the 2009 outbreak of H1N1 to the mythical Dusun tree. The myth has it that there exists a tree that is very much a normal tree (location unknown, perhaps there is one in every Dusun locality), that serves a very special purpose to the Dusun people. It is said that prior to an epidemic, the tree would bear various fruits known to the Dusuns. I can easily picture a tree bearing rambutans, jackfuits, durians, lansats, cucumbers, gourds, taraps etc, which must look awesome.

Only the meaning is not at all awesome. It is a warning that the worst is lurking around the corner, and that everyone should be vigilant, failing which, might cost their lives.

I admire the steadfastness of the belief of the person who related the story to me. She was one true believer. Although she has never witnessed it herself, she kept stressing 'haro moti kaka kopio' (hearsay, there is indeed). It is a hearsay, the word 'kaka' alone evidences this (kaka= hearsay), but I suppose faith is in the heart of the believer.

And I'm still wondering how did the concept of fruits come to be linked to epidemics? Could it be because during every fruit season there will be a flu outbreak among the Dusuns? Coincidence, or is there a scientific explanation to this, I wonder?

Pioitan- (friendly name to call each other)

2009-09-09T00:02:00.002+08:00

I've always been amused by this very thing. Dusuns, especially my parents' generation (and the generations before) have this practice of having a special name they use between either two friends or a group of friends. The names are normally hilarious in nature, having been born under hilarious situations. Or it could be one that reminds people of an exceptional event they decide to commit to their memories forever. For example, my Dad and one of his friends call each other 'katangki' (root=tangki 'water tank') due to whatever funny situation that took place when they were dealing with some water tanks.

My late grandmother and one of her neighbours called each other 'ganakau' (root=takau 'thief'). I suspect the nickname must have started when they were discussing someone who stole something. It must have been either very funny or very annoying that they decided to remind themselves of the event forever by choosing it to be their nickname. The funniest thing about that was it became a family nickname. All my grandmothers' daughters and granddaughters including yours truly followed suit in calling the neighbour 'ganakau'. Even now that my grandmother is gone, we still call 'ganakau' that. And 'ganakau's' daughters/granddaughters still refer to my late grandmother as 'ganakau' too.

This practice, I think, owes its existence to the Dusuns' reluctance to address people by their real names. Somehow it is considered impolite to call a person directly by their name, especially when the person is older than oneself.(I remember when I was young it was almost a crime to say my grandparents' names out loud. My grandfather used to threaten us the grandchildren that our knees were going to turn yellow if we ever said his name at all!)
Hence, we often hear 'i kuo' (=so and so) as a term of reference, rather than the real name of a person.

I'd have thought that this 'pioitan' practice is outdated, but surprise, surprise, I just discovered that one of my younger brothers who is in his 30s and his best friend (also a cousin of mine) actually call each other 'kalado' (root=chili). Hmm...the culture is very much alive it seems.

The Dusuns in the 1900s

2009-09-03T08:54:00.006+08:00

"The Dusuns in character are quiet and orderly and not particularly brave,
but no doubt would be industrious if occasion arose; a very
good rural population, with somewhat yokelish notions. Any
slight bloodthirsty tendencies that circulmstances and the want
of proper restraint have driven them to, are gladly abandoned
wherever our influence has spread. They show every symptom
of thriving and increasing, under a proper firm government, and
there is no fear of their melting away and disappearing, like so
many races have done, when brought into contact with the white
man. Much the same thing may be said of the sea coast races,
who also possess many good work-a-day knockabout qualities,
but not to the same extent as the Dusuns."
(W.B Pryer, 1887: 236- The Journal of the Anthropological Institute of Great Britain and Ireland, Vol. 16
(1887), pp. 229-236)

Wow! So they have discovered us or rather our ancestors in the late 1800s. The Dusuns were still headhunters then but I gather from this writing that they weren't very happy with the custom too. Headhunting must have been a tradition they held on to simply because it was tradition, not because they were bloodthirsty. (Am I relieved to read that- that means I have the blood of peaceful ancestors, who somewhat braved their existence because that was all they knew then.

And it seems that the hardworking traits have had always been there. You know the work-till-you-drop-dead thing. I'll stop complaining about that then.

Dusun tatoos?

2009-09-02T23:53:00.005+08:00

I believe no one would ever associate tatoos with Dusuns nowadays. I, for one, has never seen any Dusun with a Dusun made tatoo since my late paternal grandfather who tattoed his name on his arm. (He died at 102 in 1993). I never thought much of his tatoo then because unlike our Iban neighbours in Sarawak, his looked too simple. Just a spelling of his name, no patterns whatsoever.

It came as a surprise when somebody emailed me this picture:

Apparently in the 1900s, tatooing was quite a common practice among the Dusuns. And this particular one is of a man in Kundasang/Bundu Tuhan area, my hometown. How exciting!

The rice people

2009-09-01T16:06:00.004+08:00

They say the Eskimos have over 20 words for snow. Well the Dusuns don't have any, not surprisingly, them being land people. But the Dusuns have various words to refer to rice. It shows how important rice is to them huh? Here are some of the rice referents:

1. takano 'cooked rice'
2. wagas 'uncooked, husked rice'
3. parai 'unhusked rice or riceplant'
4. bukid 'hill rice'
5. tadong 'black/purple rice'
6. tompurion 'unripe rice grains'
7. rinolok 'rice seedlings'
8. tomot 'the rice that have been harvested'
9. tomoton 'the rice being harvested'
10. parai wagu 'fresh rice grains, normally have just been harvested in the last month or so'
11.pulut 'sticky rice' (though I'm not sure whether this one is borrowed from Malay)
12. kuruluh 'dried rice stalks'

and I believe the long list goes on. It is very true indeed that language mirrors the community.

Downplaying emotion/events

2009-08-30T13:03:00.005+08:00

The Dusuns are really good at downplaying emotions/events. It is not considered good to say something as it really is. It's even worst if someone makes a mountain out of a molehill. There is a word, 'ronob' that means exaggerate, that connotes something negative in the society. A person who is 'koronob' or 'momuronob' (exaggerating) is scowled upon by the people.

I didn't really appreciate the value of downplaying emotions until the day my grandfather died. Being far away, my family members had to break the news over the phone. They did it as emotionless as they could using the standard idiom to explain death: "aa no nakatahan do toruol dau" (he couldn't bear his pain any longer), (except that my dad said it in Malay, the language we use to communicate to each other).

Giving the news in such a way, I realized later, is very considerate. The person hearing it has the time to slowly digest the information, before the big boulder that is grief hits. At least one is given the time to delay one's reaction. I didn't get into shock (perhaps partly because I knew he had been really ill for a few months), and at least I managed to get myself to a private place before the waves of emotions crushed me.

And so I really do appreciate their knack of downplaying emotions. It does make me wonder though, whether something is worst than it is made to sound each time I hear the news that a family member or a person I know is not well...

Happy Ramadan- a Dusun's (that's me) fond memory

2009-08-27T00:54:00.004+08:00

This morning my daughter excitedly told me that two people in her class are fasting because it is Ramadhan. "And at the end of the fasting month, one of them is going to receive $500 from their parents!" Her excited remarks brought me smile and fond Ramadhan memories. My daughter doesn't understand yet the concept of fasting, but I'm so glad to know that all her teachers are concerned enough to educate themselves and their students about it. I tried to explain that Ramadhan is somewhat like our Lent, the month that Christians have to fast. Accusingly she said to me "but you never made us fast!". Oops, caught me there...anyway, I told her that come next Lent, I'll make her fast. (Now I have to remember that).

Anyway, being Dusun, one of the most enriching experiences is to have family members of various religions. One gets to understand about each other's religions and to be tolerant. I have to say that Dusun muslims have a very high level of tolerance (this is again, a generalization, but I believe it is true). Even though they can't consume alcohol, for example, they don't mind other people consuming it in front of them. That is just one of the long list of examples I can think of...

I'm glad to say that because of this background, I can happily admit having a very high level of religious tolerance too. When I was in the boarding school, I used to fast with my Muslim friends (even though being the lazy person that I am, I have never been able to wake up at dawn to have the morning meal!). It was really one of the best moments of my life. And being away from home now, guess what I miss most of all at the end of Ramadhan? Yup, the 'solat takbir', the melodious prayer they recite on the early morning of Raya (Eid-al-mubarak). This is me, a Dusun girl of rich heritage and tradition and proud to be so. I hope I will be able to raise my children to appreciate the same thing...

Egalitarian Society?

2009-08-26T10:45:00.003+08:00

Seems like it. (Except for certain areas of life like marriage. Women don't go pursue men. Although I see nothing wrong with that actually!)

Men and women cultivate their farms side by side. That's the most telling sign of Dusun being an egalitarian society, I supposed. This entails doing the same amount of work, carrying the same kind of burden- for instance if a man carries a 50kg sack of rice on his back, the woman does the same too. (They really do have a strong back!- not me though. In the olden days I would have been considered one of the weakest ones, for I could never ever carry a 50kg sack of rice on my back.)

But men are left to do 'heavy' stuffs like build a house, while most often women are the ones doing the houseworks and looking after the kids. Cooking might be a shared task but cleaning up and laundry are normally left to the women. Some men like my father are really good with children and they don't mind the task of looking after their kids. Though I know of some who would never touch their babies because of this preconceived ideas that little ones are the women's domain. And waking up at night to feed and change the babies is again considered as the woman's domain. (Come to think of it, this really should change in this modern time, especially when the woman is also working. It seems unfair to let only the mother endure the hardship day and night! After all both parents are the breadwinners eh?)

So what's my point again? Oh, Dusun seems to be an egalitarian society. But in reality the women do so much more than the men. I wonder if this would be changing soon...

Referring to one by one's ethnic group

2009-08-23T14:31:00.003+08:00

It is commonplace among the Dusun to refer to a person based on the person's ethnic group. Referring to one as 'i Dusun' (the Dusun one) is akin to referring to them by physical characteristic such as 'i tagahui' (the thin one) and so on.

No, it's not supposed to be rude. But I do think that somebody from an ethnic group that has a different system of identifying a person might feel quite insulted by this. Myself a Dusun, it still took me a long time to finally made sense of this. In school you are thought to be 'polite', and one of the politeness aspect you learn is never to refer to a person by their physical characteristics or ethnic groups. Even now, whenever I mingle and listen to my fellow Dusuns refer to others as 'i Sina' (the Chinese) or 'i Bajau' (the Bajau), I wince a little, especially when people of different ethnic groups are present.

Perhaps in Sabah, most ethnic groups have the same reference system. I've heard a Chinese person do the same. I assumed he was not being rude but simply doing what he was used to doing, just like a Dusun.

Innocent though it is, this kind of reference system is potentially harmful, at least to intercultural relation. But the Dusuns do that and it would be wrong to impose my personal belief that such thing is rude by trying to change them...

The 'panau' (wedding) ceremony-my aunt's recollection

2009-08-18T12:42:00.006+08:00

My aunt was 13 when she had her real 'being drunk' experience :-) and it was during a 'panau' ceremony. (Before, I blog about panau being part 1 of the Dusun wedding ceremonies ) It must have been some time in the 70s because aunt M was born in 1963.

Anyway, the panau ceremony is the first part of the Dusun traditional wedding. On the night that the two families had agreed upon, a group representing the groom would go to the bride's house (the 'mooi panau' group), bearing the bridal dowry, that was a type of gong called 'sanang'. The groom himself was not allowed to come along. Upon their arrival, the bride's family would close all doors and windows, and while they were doing that, the 'mooi panau' group leader must try to get the 'tutuntung' (i.e the thing used for beating the 'sanang') inside the house. Their succeed to get the 'tutuntung inside' would ensure that they could come in and claim the bride. Otherwise, they would have to use their wits- find a hole or anything that would get the 'tutuntung' through. (My imagination sketches another scenario- they would have to beg, sing or something like that till they were let in:-))

That was the first test. The second test awaited inside the house:

"They will be served with all sorts of delicacies. It might be a whole chicken, a leg of pork or the whole ribs but without any knife to cut it with. The group must not succumb. The leader will have to use his bare hands or teeth to cut it into pieces to distribute among his group members. There might be a lot of 'tapai' (rice-wine) too and if the bride's representative said that all that must be finished before they are allowed to take the bride, then finish it they will. That's why in those days the 'mooi panau' (groom's group) representatives must consist of those who can hold their alcohol and quite daring too. 'Mooi panau' is not for the tender hearted or shy person." (quoting aunty M here)

All the 'mooi panau' people MUST go back to their place in the same night no matter how drunk they became. It was the duty of the group members to ensure that they all returned in one piece, and those who were too drunk to walk would be carried by the others :-). (Cars were not used then I supposed, even if in the 70s there would have been one or two families who owned cars).

That was part one really. Next, the bride would be taken to the groom's place- 'the atod (sending over)ceremony'.

Talking about world view- Men are 'dynamic', women are 'non-dynamic'?

2009-08-18T09:12:00.001+08:00

At least that's how it is based on marriage language. In Bundu Dusun there are two prefixes (among others) that indicate ability/accidental action:

1. ko - that refers to the ability/accidental action of the person DOING the action
2. o- that refers to the ability/accidental action of a person to whom the action is BEING DONE

When you refer to the action in the past tense they are:
1. noko- 2. no-

(depending on the words, can realize as ka-, a-, naka-, na-)

Anyway, this isn't supposed to be a language lesson but a thought of something I encountered while listening to my recorded conversation with an elderly lady. She kept refering to the women she talked about as 'nasao' (no + sao) = having been weded by...', and the men as 'nakasao' (noko + sao) , "having had married ...".

It shows that men who do the marrying are 'dynamic', while women who are being married off to are 'non-dynamic' :-) It is interesting how the language really reflects the culture.