My tiny hometown of Ojai lacked variety and diversity, a village of 5000 residents becomes even smaller when you attend little Catholic schools and a Catholic girl’s school. I once told a magazine writer, I’m certain I was born with the DNA of a gypsy. For my 8th grade graduation, I coveted a small leather suitcase – at that age I never went further than my best friend’s house 4 blocks away or maybe to my grandparent’s home which was only 15 miles away. My parents surprised me with a hard-sided, stitched baby blue suitcase, lined in silky pale blue satin; a small lock and a gold key on a narrow blue ribbon guaranteed the safety of my valuables! I treasured it for my overnight getaways.
High school graduation yielded a trifecta prezzie: a full set of luggage, including a lady’s leather travel cosmetic case. I didn’t have an itinerary, in my heart, I knew adventure lay beyond the little burb.
Avant-Garde artist and potter Beatrice Wood lived in Ojai; as a young girl, I was mesmerized by her stacks of shimmering wrist bangles, enormous ethnic silver necklaces and riotously decorated costumes – a mysterious bohemian gypsy – she truly represented uncharted territory – a different realm, somewhere far from the acres of orchards in Ojai. Had I known she had spent time with Duchamp and lived in Paris, I might have worked up a petite bit of pluck and uttered a few words to her; but sometimes mystery is better than reality; don’t you sometimes find that to be true about people you meet?
The Spanish Colonial Revival style library with massive wooden tables like you might see in an Oxford library was a haven for distraction – stacks of National Geographic magazines, a glossy page escape. A portal to transport me to far flung locations; the combination of high quality journalism with thick color pages was mesmerizing. For over a century the iconic yellow bordered magazine was a gold standard of bewildering worlds that were a million miles away from Ojai! At the age of 10, I knew I had to see the Mud Men from Papua New Guinea.
Papua New Guinea offers unparalleled diversity and isolated traditions, inaccessible for so many years from the general population. They are considered one of the truly distinct cultural communities on Earth. The stain of cannibalism has mostly been erased; imported religion takes credit for this transformation. You will still find the story of the missing Rockefeller son, Michael, who disappeared during an expedition in the Asmat region of Dutch New Guinea, which is part of South Papua.
The last untouched Tribes – over 7000 distinct ethnic groups or tribes, most with their own language (over 700 languages), and many with distinct ‘Sing Sings’. They flourish in dense jungles, isolated islands and cloud covered highlands, many inaccessible, without boats or steep hiking.
Celebrated through music and dance, ceremonial “Sing Sings” offer an insight into long-lived traditions – from the brightly painted Huli Wigmen crowned with headdresses of human hair to the Asaro Mudmen concealed beneath clay masks crafted with pig teeth and shells. The Sing Sings were formalized in the 1950’s by the colonial Australian administration to promote unity, tribal peace, and alliances among traditionally warring tribes, substituting as a non-violent alternative to frequent inter-tribal conflict.
There are well known annual shows such as the Gorka Show and the Mount Hagen event. There are opportunities to visit the tribes in their communities if visiting by ship.
I chose a cruise through Papua New Guinea, although I am not a ‘cruise person’, it is a very convenient and comfortable method of seeing the tribes and enjoying some interaction with them on land. Water adventures are the most efficient method of seeing the most tribes and stunning pristine landscapes – unless you use helicopters. I would have liked more time with the locals we met, but I was very happy to encounter a new tribe almost every day.
We are offering private Yacht Excursions to see the Tribes!
My first tribal meeting was in Alotau, the provincial capital of Milne Bay, our port of entry into PNG. We had a day at sea to arrive and the vast views of jungle clad mountain ranges, volcanic in size, and narrow coastal plains merged to steep emerald green mountains, plunging into tropical waters. Reefs and coral islands in the distance. Alotau is known for its vibrant culture, canoe festival and the site of the first land battle where Allied forces defeated Japanese troops in the Pacific. Nearly 40% of the population live in rural areas, in ‘traditional” or “customary” social groupings and don’t necessarily participate in the cash economy. Those who become skilled at hunting, farming and fishing garner a great deal of respect.
A matrilineal society has complex ritual exchanges and elaborate mortuary traditions and highly respected community clans. Alotau is a larger island with cars and a ‘modern’ community, while still preserving and celebrating its history and culture. Witchcraft and sorcery are considered part of the fabric of daily life, with people frequently believing in the ability of others, particularly women, to cause harm through supernatural means.
Customs: in the past in the Milne Bay province, a revered or high-ranking individual’s burial, specifically related to pre-missionary tradition, the deceased was placed in a vertical or seated position in the grave with the head exposed. A clay pot was placed over the head to protect the skull. After some time, the skull would be removed and taken to a skull cave. The small museum displayed a few of these ancient clay pots.
Parking in a jungle grove next to a bay, drumbeats and chanting welcomed us; young boys with wood spears shouted a threat to the spirits. Thrusting the spears into the dirt, they pounced and stopped directly in front of me! An invitation: follow us! With intricate painted faces and brightly colored feather headdresses, we trailed them into an area where the Men’s House was perched on elevated stilts. A grassy area with a thatched roof sheltered the topless women weaving baskets, mats and bags, the women of Milne Bay are skilled weavers using local fibers. Shell jewelry and body adornments were offered by the village women. The villagers are also known for their Kundu drums, the boys showed me the drum skin, made from dried lizard or opossum skin, the sound can be modified with a drop of honey or wax – the dribble of wax or honey changes the sound of the drum.
A few of the local villagers displayed pig bone or tusk necklaces which are not just jewelry but an important symbol of status, wealth and strength. This is a boating community and home to yearly competitive races; we were treated to a lively boat race between the boys and men.
A Sing Sing ensued, drums and dancing circling us, an enthralling arrival! The kids were friendly and curious and chatty – one teen cradled an odd-looking animal called a cuscus which had been dangling from a tree branch. Passing home via Australia, which eventually was blocked by a cyclone, we were advised not to buy shells or feathers due to strict Australian import rules. I was entranced with the friendly women weaving and sharing their skills – who knew your toes could be used as a tool in weaving grass skirts? Their enthusiasm and sharing were contagious – I bought a striking woven grass skirt – easy to carry home, hopefully not on the import list and I could display it on bamboo as an art piece!
Nary a ship passed us on our voyage – many days it truly it felt like being on the edge of the earth, which I love. For not being a ‘cruiser’, I am happy onboard with my stateroom door wide open for most of the voyage, reading writing or sorting through my thousands of photos… it’s quiet with only the sound of waves slapping the side of the ship – occasionally, a pristine sandy beach would emerge with wooden dugout canoes or outriggers resting on the sand. Rarely a sign of human life, the villages are deeper into the jungle.
One typically hot and humid day, we arrived early to Madang Township, once described as the prettiest town in the South Pacific, known for its palm lined waterfronts and offshore volcanic islands. We were treated to a cultural gathering with ten different groups some regional and others from far away. This was a banner day for me – finally, the Mud Men! Showcasing the local customs, costume and dance of the coastal, midland and highland communities. The diverse geographical nature of Madang province is reflected in the 170 different languages that are spoken. This diversity is shared in the Madang festival with its colorful displays of “Sing Sings” performed by numerous cultural groups from across the Madang Province.
The cultural center lawns were overflowing with tribes, the local Madang province tribe paint their bodies with red paint, (often ochre) and wear elaborate feathered headdresses. These, along with other “bilas” (adornments), signify cultural identity, tribal strength, and connection to ancestral traditions during festivals. Wearing woven plant fibers on their arms and ankles add to their colorful attire.
Each tribe displayed their crafts: paintings, jewelry, bark cloth, hand carved wood products. I had a list of each area and which tribes specialized in specific crafts. I knew the upcoming Sepik River tribes focused on Crocodile wood carvings.
Two hours of Sing Sing, the Mud Men were here – I practically stalked them – they didn’t engage as much as some of the other tribes. I’ve seen them in nature programs and was familiar with their trademark haunting dance, and I wasn’t able to get any of them to engage with me! With the exception of one who was selling small clay Mud Men statues – complete with removable masks! I should have purchased them all – especially after a rude guest tried to reduce the price to practically nothing – I stepped in to pick out my favorites! His language skills weren’t as good as some of the other villagers, but I was beyond thrilled with my brief encounter! I went back to photograph other tribes and spent much time following the Asaro Mud Men in their silent dance. Other tribes chant, rhythmically play two types of drums, shake their heavily plumed headdresses, and eventually stop and chat with the guests.
Not the Mud Men, who are inhabitants of the Daulo District in the Eastern Highlands. According to myths and passed down legends, the Asaro tribe was forced to flee from an enemy tribe into the Asaro River and emerged covered in mud, which made them look like spirits, terrifying their enemies. Their ‘dance’ resembles more of a ‘stalk’ in a ghost-like fashion, often miming, to represent, frighten, and tell traditional stories, a ghostly spiritual reminder of their power to intimidate.
No songs, no drums, no dancing, they perform in complete silence, moving slowly and menacingly. Their fingers are festooned with sharp pointed bamboo stalks. Covered in white mud, their faces are completely obscured with heavy hand made river-clay masks, often featuring exaggerated features – menacing mouths with sharp objects inserted into them, elongated ears and pig tusks. The ceremonial masks are renowned as are their ghost like performance. There are multiple versions of their legendary history. Telling a story without words, is it any wonder these story tellers have been in my memory for decades?! Slowly miming their tales in an elaborate deliberate dance. A message of revenge and a warning to their enemies.
More tribes to come but beginning with my childhood dream: The Mud Men.
Papua New Guinea is a cultural and biologically diverse nation in the Southwest Pacific. You may fall in love with the magnificent natural scenery, but I guarantee you will be transfixed by the local tribes. Their costumes, their legends, and the diverse cultural heritage. A fascinating Journey!
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