Justice in the Nomads Land

by Lukas Todo Panggabean (Indonesia)

I didn't expect to find Indonesia

One day, my memory was taking me back to a story. My eyes were wide open. There was a time machine spinning like a boomerang in my head. It went back and forth recalling the past story. The story began right before religions appeared and spread over a land called Samosir, Batak ethnic groups were born, the first settler after living as nomads. They grew up, isolated themselves in the mountainous places of a small island. Struggling to survive in the harsh-wild life, they were ready to defend themselves against the intruder. It turned them into a group who had strong integrity, standing on their ground if their answer was right. Yet, coastal people pictured them as uncivilized people. Even worse, some foreign works of literature said that they were also committing cannibalism. It was a dilemma when I learned the fact. This paradigm still existed as they polished a Rafflesia with brighter colors, but the smell still kicked my nose out. As a Bataknese who wandered away from my homeland, “the smell” always irritated me. So, I decided to discover the truth behind the story. Nine years ago, I visited Samosir Island. Before reaching the island, I spent three hours on the way. I was so amazed by the scenery. It was a beautiful island surrounded by a huge volcanic lake called “Lake Toba”. Stepping on the island, I randomly visited a tourism site nearby Tomok harbor called BatukursiSiallagan (Siallagan stone chairs). Walking up to the front gate, I saw a beautiful line of traditional Bataknese houses lying before me. A guide then approached me in instant and asked me, “Lae(brother), what is your Marga (family name)?” I was quite shocked because that man spoke loudly at me. Then I replied spontaneously, “I am Panggabean, Sir”. “Follow me Lae!, then I shall tell you one of our ancestor’s great story.” He guided me first to a big traditional Bataknese house; he said the house belonged to the king who ruled the area that closed to the village. I could smell an aging wooden scent right out of the pillar that held the house. Stunned while imagining how old it was, he pointed his finger to the house’s edge. I spotted a wooden handcuffed statue over there. He explained it was a place where the King held his prisoner in custody. Usually, the King would gather the village elders and sit in a circle-shaped stone chair right in the middle of the village after waiting for a good day. On those chairs, they would discuss the fate of the prisoner. If the prisoner did something that could not be forgiven by the law, his life would be put to death at the same day. After the judgment was over, the prisoner would be taken to a special stone around the stone chairs. His eyes would be covered with a garment and he would be splashed with kaffir lime water. They would do that to eliminate all black magic that prisoners might possess. Then, the executioner would push his head toward the stone. While taking out his machete he shouted “Horas…horas… horasss…” and then, cut the prisoner’s head off. The guide demonstrated the process; he swung his machete and slashed the prisoner’s headstatue. After the execution ended, the king took the heart out of the prisoner to feast upon the elders. I was shocked. My back hair was starting to feel goosebumps. The guide came back to me and said, “Did you learn something from the story, Lae?” My mouth was shut before I return to the hotel. At night, I pondered for a moment, the smell began to fade away as the truth revealed that day. Although this sounds tragic, my mind starts to see it differently. Even in a famously uncivilized tribe like Batak, there is still some law and justice that remain in the society. It automatically breaks all the wrong perceptions towards my people. My tribe is noble; they always uphold justice and law above all. Even though they still eat the heart, which I did not expect to find there, but I am proud to be part of Batak.