Harvest 6/20

Today was the yam harvest - a day I’ve been waiting for all year! The yams were planted rather late, around Christmas time, right when I arrived for my fourth trip. I was told they would be ready in April or May or June or July. With such a wide spread, I rescheduled my fifth trip to be here during that entire time so as not to miss it!

I started asking people about it in April and May, making sure people knew I wanted to film it, especially the special dancing tradition that I heard rumors of amongst the older ladies. But as May turned into June and as June came to an end, I wondered if it would happen at all!

But happen it did and very abruptly. Wagiba rushed into my room at 8am saying, “We are leaving to harvest the yams right now. I thought you were going to film us?” I quickly assembled the video camera, mic and headphones, packed a bag with extra battery, phone, gloves, umbrella, folding stool, water, and two bananas, slapped on my hat and hiking boots and we were off!

Quickly we arrived at Merol’s house in ttägällag kona where all the women in the village were gathered with their spalek yam baskets. I slipped the microphone from my ear into Merol’s and caught her loud cries of advice, chastisement, and direction for how the group was going to properly harvest the yams. First, no pregnant or menstruating women allowed. Children were to stay home. The women must have their baskets and knives prepared and their baskets must have straps for carrying on the head. The woman must all form a single line with someone strong at the front and someone strong at the back. They will return from the village in this same line but in reverse order. 

When the group got assembled, Manggeya led in a word of prayer and as fast as I could say, “Okay, cameras rolling” they were off, down the street towards the path that leads to the community garden. 

I found myself at the back of the line behind Erga Baewa, the strong lady that would lead us home. The ladies were really rushing, wanting to be back from the 9km hike before lunchtime. Ladies who were walking too slow were told to drop their bags for someone else to pick up to speed the procession. 

A quick hike up and down a few hills and across two streams led us past the old yam houses and right to the community garden. By the time I entered all the women had disappeared into the lush, chaotic garden, laying out banana leaves on which they would carefully place this year’s first yams. 

I made my way with the recorder from one lady’s plot to another, capturing the digging, cleaning, and piling of the first harvest. It took nearly forty minutes to crisscross through the garden capturing everyone’s bounty. 

And just like that we were all back in a line and rushing to the village! As we approached the main path, Erga stopped the line so that everyone could enter together. I rushed ahead and requested for Pingam and Merol to lead the group with the yam harvest song which everyone younger than 60 seemed to have forgotten until the tune came back to their ears. 

Every woman went to her own house and laid the yams back out on bananas leaves in front of the house for passer bys and their husbands and children to greet and generally ooh and aah over. Then earth ovens were quickly assembled and the whole lot were tucked gently inside. Galbi, purple yams, were left out and cooked on an open fire for snacking while waiting for the earth oven to finish. Also at this time, coconuts were knocked and scraped into big piles of shredded sweetness. When the yams came out of the ovens, they were peeled with shells and mashed with bottles. The mash was mixed with the coconut shreds and then formed into balls called kul. These balls were handed out to every person that came by, and then piled into the community hall for bountiful feasting. 

And just like that, the yam harvest was over! No counting traditions like they have over in the West - however if there is an ongoing quarrel, two people may compare their yam pull to solve a dispute. Just a happy village, filled with happy children, delightfully tasting the sweet creamy delight of a yam after months and months of just sago.