IN PRAISE OF TAKING HEADS

Apparently, my readers have problems associating vicious tribal murder with something good to eat. The link between the bloodshed and the dinner may be too strong, too vibrant for them. Judging by the dearth of commentary under a recent post

[Please see here: HEAD-HUNTING CHICKEN. It is about a mild chicken dish which you would very much like to eat.]

Other than Grant Patel with his unique viewpoints, the only person who left a comment was Steg (dos iz nit der šteg) , who wrote:
"Sorry, man... associations with head-hunting aren't good for whetting my appetite."


I may have suggested to Steg (dos iz nit der šteg) and a few others that the dish would be perfect for Sukkos - It being an outdoorsy and primitive-dwelling associated holiday. Reminiscent, on one level, of living in the wilderness, rather like the tribal peoples in parts of Borneo still do. And a longhouse is like a sukkah, albeit a sukkah on pillars that raise the living quarters above the ground away from shrotzim and predators, and with a long common veranda, plus fire-pits, family quarters, and holes to ventilate and let out the smoke.

[Longhouse: Puranibo. Long common veranda: Daramba. Fire-pits; Kuipang. Family quarters: Balayak. Ventilation holes: Tingkapen.]


Besides, headhunting is a fine old tradition, and fine old traditions are always associated with food. Headhunting in more ways than one.

Taking heads has naught to do with cannibalism. The hunting down of other humans in this case is not to use their meat, but purely to utilize the powerful energy that is concentrated in their kapala. Think of it as harvesting batteries from a rival tribe downriver, a tribe with the utter chutzpah to compete with us for limited resources.
Whichever head gets taken will not be involved in planting fields, or gathering wild protein from the forest, or spying on us as we eat, wash by the river, or procreate. That head will not harm us nor use what we could use, but instead will inspire our crops to grow, our men to be virile, and our women to be fecund.

That head is far less use to us still attached to a living body from that other tribe, than nicely polished in its own specially made basket up in the rafters of our longhouse, watching us drinking rice wine and dancing during our festivals.

Steg, please reconsider. The association with headhunting is propitious, and will add to your pleasure. Yes?



NGABAENG PA BUNGA GALURA
[Evocation of the crimson flowers.]


Ulite gadis neang tandak dang kapala, ki bunga galura na parang; kranda na litenen sehi umbang-tasek, kasanakan na puranibo purno tan marido. Wirang wirang na kibong tagpulang mawangi na djuwang, ura-mura tan nila tuwa. Tagatso iha maalik-mera, neang dene enti sama wahana.
Ri tarang na parampui puwan puwan marakanadja, kalinda, kalintik; djenti-wata hu!
Gurumos ti taa pa lalaki wiyang banta pratama - palimanema lahang kaga, mata dingin laho. Bunoan impa dapet uba, kaingitan djadi taengso materem. Tuwang-tugeng maputi re rewanon, dagat magkareng sa lalang tan daon; neang luwa matadjato lelem sametek, karong wara djawonen wiyang mawo bala. Dahulo mata-li buwana entero, maale kabog sahadja. Uho.
[Translation: See the girls that dance with the heads, the crimson blossoms of battle; the noise of the watchers is like breakers, the enjoyment of the longhouse is complete and zesty. The warriors of the group have returned smelling of the conflict, youthful-ruddy (ura-mura, also refers to the red of warrior turbans) as well as aged-blue (nila-tuwa, the wise elders who wear dark turbans). Success, verily, is appealing, whatever else is not likewise. In the glow of the torches women are high-breasted (marakanadja: prominent, of noses or breast; high, of trees, hats, banners, signs; projecting, of roofs, overhangs, bosoms), sleek (marakalinda: gently swelling, of breasts or low dunes; fading into the landscape or tree-line, of scrub and undergrowth; unremarkable of prominence, of roofs or gables), and perky (marakalintik: up-perked, of cute button-noses and nipples; sticking out slightly like knobs on furniture or trimmed branches; projecting somewhat like nuts and bolts); how utterly charming, oh!
The joyous noise does not reach the males who have fought for the first time - their hands are still clenched, their eyes remain cold, killing must create change, the memories become sharply graduated. Bones (tuwang: bones; tugeng: large pelvic and leg-bones) are whitening in the wild lands, blood dries on grass and leaves; the distance becomes dark entirely, now there are outsiders who wish for revenge. While before the entire world was within sight, now all is fog only. Oh!]

Headhunting is customarily limited to the period between the two lumeri festivals, when the rice-wine is ready, and agriculture is at a standstill - November, December, and January. This is the first part of the wet season, when tempers have not gone dull from the incessant rain, and men are still vibrantly alive. It is a joyous and cheerful season.


It is said that the Moshiach, when he comes, will come during sukkos.
But until he does, think of headhunting.