Stories from Deli

Deli Ourant 26-08-1885

This displacement of the old Batak culture by Islam seems to have taken place via Atjeh and more recently through Deli. As an addition to my previous study on Batak religion, I must mention two small buildings intended for religious purposes, which were located in the village.

One was a small hut, bearing much resemblance to our charnel houses, though raised on high stilts at least twenty feet above the ground, situated near the Balé and dedicated to the guardian spirit of the village. However, the inhabitants seemed to have little interest in it as it was poorly maintained and on the verge of collapse. — The other religious structure, associated with religion, was the Agoenan, where, as the Battas told me, the guru performed his sorceries and prayers. This building stood at the entrance of the village, and the Battas themselves compared it to a Malay mosque.

As far as I know, this is the first example of a kind of church building among the Battas, and this structure perhaps marks the first step on that long journey at the end of which Europe’s mighty domes and cathedrals soar towards the sky. —

The Battas have a particular fondness for small idols; small human figures carved from wood by the guru and filled with some kind of magical mixture through a specially made opening. Especially the older people commonly carry such an idol with them, although they do not like to show it. In the Balé, just below the ridge of the roof, there stood on a mat-covered plank an old sealed earthen pot, filled with a magical mixture renewed every year by the guru. I would have liked to examine the pot more closely and attempted to take it off the plank. But no one dared to undertake this venture, and everyone urgently requested me to leave the pot untouched.

Regarding the meaning and significance, I could not learn much, and I think it is an offering to the guardian spirit of the Balé, as each house possesses its own particular guardian spirit. Also, among the Karo Battas, one often sees at the entrance of houses the elegantly carved horn of the Sumatran antelope (bedar), filled with a magical mixture and closed with a lid, containing some medicine for the protection of the house and its inhabitants. I did not see stone statues in Nagasariboe. Regarding the funeral feasts I mentioned earlier, I can provide the following information.

On a short stick wrapped with wire, attached to the wall of the bale, stood the dried head of a rhinoceros bird, to which horse ears had been sewn on each side. They were remnants of the great festival of death — Koda Koda and Topeng — celebrated at the death of the previous Rajah. At my insistence I also managed to see the topeng — the mask — which is kept as a piece of great value in the Rajah’s house.

This mask had been a gift from the Rajali of Bangoesariboe to the Rajah of Nagasariboe; Carved fairly cleanly from wood and decorated with human hair, traces of blood stains were still clearly visible, which, according to the Battas, had been splashed on it during the funeral feast when the carabaoes and chickens were slaughtered. However, I suspected that the blood was from the slaves slaughtered during the funeral festival, who are forced to perform, unfortunately, all too realistic dances of death with the mask covering their face, because their necks are cut off during the ceremony to act as servants of to be able to function as the Rajali on the other side of the grave. The same mask served for the burial of all Rajas; also for their wives. For the latter purpose, holes had been drilled in the ears, into which ear ornaments were inserted at the funeral of a queen.

The highly interesting mask, unfortunately, was not for sale even though I offered $15 for it. When I had to return it with regret, the young boys put it on, joking around with it and frightening the women. A rugged hill near the village served as a burial ground for the common people. Here and there, white flags were stuck in the ground at the head and foot of the graves. The Rajahs are buried in a separate, more remote location. However, when the flesh decays, the bones are exhumed and kept in more or less ornate bone caskets. The one erected for the recently deceased Rajah was located a quarter of an hour behind the village, on a height called Tigaradja, where a market was also held.

During my stay, I also had the opportunity to witness the construction of such a house, which was inaugurated with a grand feast. — Earlier at Tandjong Morawa, I had heard a lot about mysterious figures known as Singas among the Battas, which I was supposed to find in the house of the Rajah of Nagasariboe. Upon my arrival, my first priority was to inquire about these sculptures. They are four solid and purely carved figures made of boni wood, painted with colored stripes, approximately six feet tall, standing in the four corners of the living room. When I asked about the maker, I was told they were Atjeh artists who were present in the village at the time of the construction of the Rajah’s residence, although this must have been a long time ago. The figures were not very clear, but the whole ensemble still reminded me of an Indian origin resembling the model of the Indian god Genesa.

During my stay in the village, I had already tried many times to gather information about Mount Singallsng and Mount Dindoe binoa, which I presumed to be two very volcanic mountains. Some people had shared with me that there was a small lake on top of these mountains, which led me to suspect the presence of an extinct crater. To confirm this, I decided to climb Mount Dandoe binoa. However, it was extremely difficult to find people willing to accompany me on this venture, as according to the Battas, all mountain peaks are inhabited by spirits who strictly punish trespassers in their territory. None of the ordinary villagers wanted to accompany me, and my guide Si Moang was only persuaded after hinting at the $100 he would receive upon my return to Deli. Only one Batta, who had previously worked in Deli for a long time and had shed some of his superstitions, could be persuaded, and with one of my servants, the travel party was complete.

Our path took us through the marketplace of Tiga Radja, where near the already mentioned old Rajah’s dead house, a rectangular earthwork with a diameter of about 15 feet and surrounded by a wooden palisade had been erected. Here, I had a splendid opportunity to admire the magnificent panorama offered by the mountain range with Mount Dok Simanaboem and Mount Goenong Sipaiak. From both volcanoes, a broad yellow ribbon of sulfur descended; however, I could only discern a little smoke on the summit of Mount Simanaboem.

In 1881, however, I had seen it emit heavy smoke clouds. We reached a small village called Negri Tenging, a colony of Nagasariboe, within half an hour from Tigaradja. Before entering the village, we had to cross a deep ravine containing a gorge filled with clear water. This small lake is the source of the Langkat River. The spring feeding the pond is guided by bamboo houses by the inhabitants of Negri Tenging, from which it falls with a small stream; from there, it traverses the territory of the Karo Battas, the river winding its way to the foot of Mount Dolok Simanaboem to enter Upper Langkat and finally, as the mighty Wampoh River, flow into the sea.

Having passed Negri Tenging, the terrain began to rise more steeply, and we had to climb the hundreds of feet high hills that formed the foot of the mountain. Since there was no footpath to be found, we had to walk as best as we could. The peaks of this foothill were covered with large trachyte blocks, while mighty rocks of the same stone type protruded on both sides. Finally, the actual mountain cone rose high, steep, and naked like a rock wall before us. Tall lalang grass, almost impenetrable and as tall as a man, covered the mountain sides up to the top, which seemed to be covered with thick and heavy foliage. I already foresaw that climbing would require a great effort, and my companions tried once again to dissuade me. They claimed that climbing was impossible; no one had dared, there were all sorts of spirits, wild animals, etc. (To be continued.)