http://www.insideindonesia.org/feature/white-rice-or-black-sago-28101484
White rice or black sago? 
Saturday, 29 October 2011 06:03 
Maskota Delfi 
  a.. 
On the island of Siberut, eating rice is both a status symbol and a sign of 
destruction of traditional ways


Maskota Delfi
     
      A road being made through a sago forest
      Maskota Delfi 
‘It makes your hands dirty while eating’. When I lived recently for several 
months in the village of Muntei on the island of Siberut, I heard local people 
say this a lot about roasted sago. Roasted sago indeed blackens and chars when 
it cooks, but it is something the people here eat almost every day. Siberut is 
part of the Mentawai Archipelago, 100 kilometres off the coast of West Sumatra 
in the Indian Ocean. Sago is the main staple food for the people of the 
archipelago. Even so, Mentawaians increasingly prefer to eat rice, if they can.

Yet attempts to grow rice on the island have failed, despite government efforts 
to encourage its cultivation and to create a local population self-sufficient 
in food. A few irrigated rice fields close to the homes of migrants, who would 
probably have grown rice anyway, are the only tangible result of the 
government’s attempts to promote rice cultivation. Like most indigenous 
residents of Siberut, the people of Muntei don’t plant rice. They say it is not 
part of their tradition. It’s also difficult to grow in the swampy areas at the 
back of their village.

Why the taste for rice?
If they don’t grow rice, why do so many of the people of Mentawai not only like 
to eat it, but also think it is better than sago? The short answer is that rice 
has become a prestigious symbolic food, due both to its price tag and its 
imported nature. In Siberut, if you are able to consume rice a few days a week, 
you are classified as being well-off. Such a diet indicates that you are in 
business, or that you sell cash crops which enable you to buy food, instead of 
having to work outdoors to harvest your own.

Moreover, local people value rice not only because they see it as a luxurious 
food for the wealthy, but also because they value it as being ‘modern’ and 
‘developed’. Mentawaians notice that sago is not usually eaten by the city 
people and others they watch on television in the evenings. Instead, it is 
considered a ‘primitive’ food, eaten mostly by remote Papuans, upstream Dayaks 
or by people in islands a long distance away, such as in Maluku.

This attitude is also reinforced by the government sponsored family food 
supplement program, Raskin, which is short for ‘beras miskin’ or ‘rice for the 
poor’. In Mentawai, as elsewhere, that program does not supply the local sago 
staple food, but rice to poor families. The social signal this program sends is 
that ‘everyone should have rice to eat’, reinforcing the message that sago and 
taro are second grade foods.

A status symbol
During a recent field trip to Mentawai, I had an interesting experience while 
living with a local family in Muntei. Every day for several months, we sat 
together and ate sago with condiments for lunch and dinner. In the mornings, we 
enjoyed a variety of cooked bananas, taro, tubers and cassava snacks. It was 
our habit to have lunch and dinner at the back of the family’s traditional 
Mentawai house, near the kitchen.

     
      Mashing sago is demanding physical work>
      Maskota Delfi 
One day, the family’s oldest son, who was about 18 years old, came home for a 
visit after recently being employed in a workshop in Muara Siberut, a harbour 
town about ten kilometres from Muntei. He arrived with a full ten kilogram bag 
of rice. The youngest, six year old Edo was very happy and asked his mother to 
cook rice for lunch. After the food was ready to be served, I put some plates 
out on the just-swept floor in the kitchen, but instead Edo’s mother asked me 
to take the plates to the front of the house on the veranda.

This surprised me because normally we would eat lunch conveniently in the 
kitchen area. In answer to my question why we should move to the front, she 
responded that it was too hot to eat in the kitchen. Her reasoning was 
unconvincing, but she was firm, so the plates and pots were moved to the 
veranda. While helping me to carry the plates and glasses to the front, Edo 
explained: ‘If we were eating sago today, it wouldn’t matter if we had lunch in 
the kitchen. Kak [older sister], we are lucky, we eat rice today, so it’s 
better to have lunch on the veranda. There people can see what we are eating. 
In the kitchen they can’t.’

It became clear that the family didn’t want to hide the occasion of eating rice 
from others in the village. People are proud when they eat rice. Besides, 
serving rice to guests is now considered to be more courteous and a sign that 
you are honoured by their presence. It seems that it is no longer enough to 
honour guests with sago. Since hearing this explanation, I observed similar 
situations in other settings.

A staple food
Sago palms proliferate around Muntei village because of the abundance of wet 
and waterlogged soil there. When people cut down a sago tree there are always 
some saplings in the vicinity which will take its place. After about eight 
years, the new trees are ready to be harvested. Normally, one good mature sago 
tree can produce sufficient starch for a family of four or five for about eight 
to ten weeks. A whole trunk of processed starch will not spoil for many months 
if stored with care in tapirs (cylinder-shaped containers made from sago 
leaves) and left standing in a cool place in the house.

A harvested tree will normally produce about half a dozen good size tapirs. 
About 60 per cent of the trunk contains starch. The process of collecting the 
sago starch requires a large sieve, a big spiky rasp, a dugout canoe and plenty 
of fresh water which is always easy to find. When the sago tree has been 
felled, it is cut in sections and split in two. People then grate the pith or 
heart of the tree with the big rasp, releasing the starch and inedible fibres. 
They then put this mixture in the large sieve on a platform and with nimble 
feet and plenty of water wash the fibres and collect the starch in the dugout 
canoe underneath the sieve.

     
      Ritual which ends with a sago meal
      Maskota Delfi 
The wet starch settles quickly on the bottom of the canoe and the water can be 
reused to wash the next batch of mixed starch and fibres. The fibres are spread 
around in the field and used to fertilise the next stand of trees. When the 
canoe is filled with wet starch, leaves of the just-felled sago tree are 
arranged to make a tarip. The sago starch which looks like wet flour but feels 
like clean coarse mud is packed inside the tarip. This is carried home and 
covered.

Often a harvest of sago might be shared by two or three families, who take it 
in turns to fell the palms, because the taste of the starch is the best in the 
first four to six weeks after harvest. Every meal time, sago is roasted in 
sections of freshly-cut bamboo. Each piece of bamboo is about 30 centimetres 
long and, filled with sago flour, is roasted in the fire for 20-30 minutes. 
When it is ready, the hot roasted bamboo containers are taken from the fire. It 
is now easy to break open the bamboo and take out the hot bread-like sago from 
the inside. Dip it in a condiment of spicy or salty vegetables, meat or fish 
and you have a substantial meal.

There is also a quicker way to roasting sago, but for this you need plenty of 
sago leaves to wrap up the wet sago flour and nimble fingers to make sago 
breadsticks which, when roasted at the back of the fireplace, produce a nice 
crunchy stick when unwrapped. Locals eat this second variety for breakfast when 
the sticks are still hot. You need four to eight roasted sticks (called 
‘kapurut’ in the local language) to feel full. You can eat them without 
condiments, and they are a practical way to start your day, alongside a glass 
of coffee or tea.

Besides being a food source, the sago tree provides other benefits to the 
community. Sago leaves can be used to make one of the sturdiest thatched roofs 
in Indonesia They are a useful wrapper for roasting sago breadsticks or for 
making tapir, as mentioned above. They are also make a resilient wall material. 
In addition, the strong sago palm bark can be used for flooring and it burns 
well in the kitchen fireplace.

Parts of sago trees such as the crown, which does not contain starch, will 
eventually drop to the ground and in combination with other tree litter, will 
decay and become the perfect host for sago beetles. The grubs of this beetle 
are an easy catch and a delicious and much sought after protein source. In sum, 
the sago palm is a valuable multipurpose plant for the people of the Muntei 
community.

New cash crops
     
      Rolling a sago log back to the village
      Maskota Delfi 
Recently, the local office of the Ministry of Agriculture has assisted in the 
introduction of cocoa as a cash crop in the Mentawai archipelago. Many newly 
planted cocoa fields can be seen around the village. Other areas, where sago 
used to grow in abundance, have been cleared to make way for further plantings. 
The new cocoa farmers who have occupied land near Muntei sell their dried cocoa 
beans to traders in the village or in Muara Siberut.

When people grow cash crops in order to purchase foodstuffs, they run risks if 
they don’t back up their production with staple crops. When they grow cash 
crops, communities often are not aware that their stock is subject to the ups 
and downs of global prices. For instant, a bumper crop in African cocoa can 
lead to a slump of the price in West Sumatra, while a frost in South America 
can lead to higher prices.

For now, sago is still valued in the community. In many of their local rituals, 
the villagers in Muntei still use sago. Even though roasted sago is black, 
which for some people means tainted or dirty, many locals are still proud of 
this useful, meaningful and tasty food. However, there’s now a question about 
how long it will remain a regular item on the menu of future generations. 
That’s a pity because, for me, roasted sago with a sprinkle of coconut beats 
any processed breakfast cereal.

Maskota Delfi (maskotade...@gmail.com) is an associate lecturer at Andalas 
University in Padang, West Sumatra and recently submitted her PhD in 
anthropology at Gadjah Mada University in Yogyakarta.


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]



------------------------------------

Post message: prole...@egroups.com
Subscribe   :  proletar-subscr...@egroups.com
Unsubscribe :  proletar-unsubscr...@egroups.com
List owner  :  proletar-ow...@egroups.com
Homepage    :  http://proletar.8m.com/Yahoo! Groups Links

<*> To visit your group on the web, go to:
    http://groups.yahoo.com/group/proletar/

<*> Your email settings:
    Individual Email | Traditional

<*> To change settings online go to:
    http://groups.yahoo.com/group/proletar/join
    (Yahoo! ID required)

<*> To change settings via email:
    proletar-dig...@yahoogroups.com 
    proletar-fullfeatu...@yahoogroups.com

<*> To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:
    proletar-unsubscr...@yahoogroups.com

<*> Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to:
    http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/

Kirim email ke