The land of sago 6/18

This Saturday, I went on a family trip to beat sago with Wagiba, Warama, Tonny, Wendy, Uba, Ibetty, Nicole, Nicky, and Willie. 

Although I’ve witnessed sago processing before, I’ve never been actively involved besides carrying the heavy bags back to the village. However, most of the old women in the village seem to think I’m ‘built for sago’. Often when in close proximity to me, they mutter things like, “Ae mälla gullbe” (What a woman!) “Bogo ai dan aoli patkoll bîtne?” (How many sago bundles you think she could beat?!) “Matta? Ddîll?” (Eight? Ten?). This is a very flattering number and makes me forgive the otherwise uncomfortable chatter about my size.

So off I went to see just how much sago I could beat. Sago processing involves (1) chopping down the sago palm with an axe, (2) debarking the tree with the use of an axe and a pointed stick, (3) beating the palm’s pith into the consistency of fine wood chips using a tool called an abor, an instrument with one hitting edge the size of a fifty cent piece, (4) loading the chips into bags and carrying the sago to the squeezing place, (5) putting the wood chips into another woven bag, pouring in water, and using your foot to step on the bag, squeezing the water out through the sago and the bag all while balancing on a rack of bamboo suspended over a large dish into which the water is collected, (6) siphoning the water out of the dish to reveal the settled sago particles beneath, (7) scooping the clay-like sago back into woven bags lined with leaves, or making bundles out of tree bark, and finally (8) carrying the sago bundles home.

Because I stay away from tasks that involve knives, axes, or balancing, I participated in the beating, carrying, and scooping into bags. I’m glad there were no old ladies there because I was a terrible beater. There were ten year olds shredding sago next to me as I carefully hacked off chips larger than could possible be squeezed. What I lacked in precision or skill I made up for in endurance, which was beneficial since all the sago I beat had to be rebeaten and then whacked with a knife before deemed squeezable. I do think I improved over the many hours that it took to beat the tall palm and no one suggested that I stop, so I think my contributions were appreciated :)

Wendy was a powerhouse - she beat, squeezed, and packed half the tree, while answering the bored and hungry cries of three childen. The children (aged 3-8) actually found plenty to do. They worked on their machete handling by chopping everything in a 100’ radius of the sago, including the props to build a makeshift fort and even some school supplies. The ten year olds beat until they grew bored and then only again when Wagiba started in on them for being lazy. They built the house for the other children and cooked lunch - sago brought from home cooked over a fire wrapped in leaves. Tonny chopped down the tree and helped Wendy beat while she breastfed Willie and Warama managed to look busy the entire time but I can’t say what exactly he did. 

I enjoyed carrying the sago for Wagiba to squeeze and I liked the consistency of the sago clay when we loaded the bags. When there was nothing for me to do (with my limited skill set and clumsiness), I quizzed the ten year olds on Ende verb conjugation.

When we finally set off for the village it was almost evening. We had made about six bundles together. We arrived home nine hours after we left with only the meager lunch the ten year olds rounded up - I was very hungry! We had a small feast of an entire kilo of rice and a deer leg caught while we were away.

The next day, I woke up with a terrible stomach flu - I slept the entire day when I wasn’t running to the bathroom because of diarrhea or vomit. Though my stomach seemed a little upset before we went to sago in the first place, I’m afraid the severity of the flu might bar me from ever making sago again!