excuse me- karud?

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"

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

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

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.