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NATIVE LIFE IN NEW GUINEA

compiled by K. B. Schooley

To the majority of civilized peoples, the natives of New Guinea are savages of the most primitive type, and thought to be completely uncivilized, but this impression is far from fact in many respects. It is true, however, that these aborigines have been head hunters until the past few years, and some of the tribes still practice that custom, in the more remote sectors of the island. Their mode of living is extremely simple, with few of the complicated problems common to civilization as we know it. They have no monetary system of their own, but transact their business by bartering. Each article of trade goods has an established equivalent in other items, that are recognized by most other tribes on the island, and strictly adhered to.

My source of information for the following descriptions, is one particular village at Soputa, Papua, and these facts are not taken from books, or other individuals, but from actual experience, living in close proximity to the village.

The first natives encountered were the men, employed by the Australian government, to carry army equipment to, and wounded men from the various battle areas. These men are about five and a half feet tall, as a rule, and weigh approximately 130 pounds, but are exceedingly powerful, in spite of their diminutive size, and are tireless in their work. Once a load is placed on the shoulders of a native, he will carry it for miles without a rest. For instance, one medical chest, weighing 130 pounds was carried by a single man, for two miles, with but a single stop, to change it from one shoulder to the other.

The services of these "Fuzzy Wuzzies" was indispensable and otherwise almost impossible tasks were accomplished with their aid. Wounded men were treated like gods, and no effort was too great, to make them comfortable. Over the roughest terrain the litters moved as if floating on air, while the patient was well-covered from rain or sun, and the insects were constantly kept away from his face and other exposed parts of his body. Any man who has been carried out by natives will swear to the veracity of this statement, and no praise is too great for the "little black beggars", as they are fondly called by many of the Aussies. A kind word, a cigarette, or some other small favor is all that was necessary to obtain the undying devotion of a native, and you are "Taubida", or "Boss man" from then on. Break his faith, though, or arouse his dislike by mistreatment, and you will have a formidable enemy. He'll never forget a favor, nor an insult to his pride, which is always high. The white man is respected and looked to for guidance, unless he shows himself incapable, in which case, he is frowned on by all the men in the tribe. To give you an idea of their jungle knowledge and determination, an Aussie overseer, who had been with them for five years, told me he would give any white man his choice of weapons, and 48 hours start. Then, he would give a native a knife, and tell him the "Taubida" was an enemy. A week, a month, or even a year later, the native would return with the white man's equipment, and this fact was frequently proven by the wholesale slaughter of Japs, with the loss of about one percent of the natives sent out to hunt for them. This hunting was done, for the most part, by organized native police, but some of the carriers went on unauthorized sorties of their own, when not working, and invariably got results.

The typical village is a group of irregularly placed grass and pole huts built a few feet off the ground. They have no walls, but the roof hangs over the sides far enough to keep out the rain, and the ends are open. Grass mats comprise the interior decorations with the weapons of the men hanging from the ridge pole, and it is the custom for the men to sleep in huts separate from the women and children. However, many of the married couples share the same hut, with one or more other families, as they so desire.

The clothing problem is simple as the men wear only a loin cloth or skirt, and the women wear just the skirt, while the children let Mother Nature care for their needs. The clothing is brightly colored calico, and grass skirts are seldom seen on an individual, except for ceremonial purposes.

Generally speaking, the women are well-developed and reach maturity at about 14 years of age, but grow old rapidly, and the average life of a native is 35 years. At 15, the girls are married to some eligible boy of the same age, or possibly a year older, provided he has been accepted into the tribe as a man. It is the custom to give pigs, produce, or other articles of value to the girl's father or brothers in payment for her. To any native, a pig is the most valuable possession in the world. The first thing to know, and to remember, about the natives is to leave their pigs alone, and to stay away from their women, unless some satisfactory arrangement has been made with the owner of the pig, or the father and brothers of the woman, although traffic of women is extremely rare between the whites and blacks.

Their gardens of paw paws, bananas, sweet potatoes, melons, and the like, are also off-limits to everyone except the owner. He will cheerfully "sell" you whatever you desire, and if you take anything when he is gone, it is customary to leave payment tied to a stick where the produce was taken from the tree or ground. Otherwise, he will follow you, and exact payment in his own way. No other native will touch what you left because they are absolutely honest and trustworthy, especially among themselves.

Upon entering a village, you might find a bunch of grass tied to a tree, or any number of odd things of the same nature, which seem childish to you, but they are taboos of some sort, and laughing at them, or touching them will lead to trouble, frequently of a serious nature.

The secret of popularity and approval, is to go straight to the head man of the village when you enter, paying no attention to anyone else. State your business to him, and while waiting his decision, talk to the old men and notice the children. That really makes a hit, if you are careful not to overdo it. Fawning is frowned on. Shortly, the head man will conduct you all over the village to show you everything about it, and bring out the women and children for your approval. You may even watch games, dances, household activities, and anything else that occurs, so long as you don't butt in. The women like to be noticed and really put on a show, demonstrating their ability to do many things, but becoming too engrossed in them is not good etiquette. To see the entire village sketchily, is the usual procedure, to begin with, and then you are on your own for as long as you wish to remain. You may help yourself to whatever is available, provided you pay for it. An invitation to eat requires no payment, however, unless you take part of it, uneaten, with you when you leave. The bill of fare is sometimes a bit difficult to stomach, but the fruits are wonderful, and just a taste of the cooked conglomeration is sufficient to satisfy the hosts. To sing for them, and applaud their singing and dancing, set you on top of the heap, and you are adopted, so to speak. Some of the men have voices that would put Lawrence Tibbet and Paul Robson to shame, but the women are comparatively poor singers, even though their enthusiasm and efforts equal that of the men.

Peculiar to most primitive peoples is the fact that the women do the heavy work. The village upkeep is their responsibility, and when moving, they carry everything, including the babies, in net bags, hung by a strap over the head. The men lead the procession, and a few bring up the rear, to guard against other tribesmen attempting to pick off the stragglers and women.

The most astounding incident I witnessed was the birth of a child. There is no objection to watching, but no one, native or white, must attempt to help in any way.

One afternoon I was standing on the road near the village talking to one of the police boys and watching some women working a field nearby. (Many of these police boys speak English having been educated in Mission schools.) Before long I noticed this particular woman coming toward a little lean-to about ten yards from the road where we were standing. She entered the lean-to and lay for some ten minutes before the child was born. Then, after exactly and hour and thirty minutes, she strapped the child on her back and returned to cutting grass in the field. It sounds impossible, and you have only my word that it actually happened, but it is a fact, and I can prove it by the native police boy. I'll never forget it so long as I live. According to Martin, the police boy, this incident is nothing out of the ordinary. The majority of women have as many children as possible, beginning when they are very young, because jungle diseases make the infant mortality rate quite high. However, few of the mothers die during childbirth.

Another amusing sight, which several fellows will vouch for, was one young mother who nursed a little striped pig right along with her baby. She was seen almost every day, for several weeks, walking up and down the road as if looking for something, although I never found out what it was. Possibly she was just showing off, as many of them are prone to do. The greater percentage of them have a fat ego.

Whenever possible, the natives go to the Mission schools where they learn to read and write and to speak English. Until recently, just the men and boys could go, but now, the young girls and women go too. Most of them learn very rapidly. Some of the more intelligent and adaptable ones are given courses in first aid, and are highly respected by their charges. A first aid man means as much to a native as our most accomplished surgeons mean to us, and they delight in being called "Doc".

In the privacy of their villages, the natives are very affectionate and demonstrative of their fondness for each other, but a white man will never see this, unless he is adopted by them. It was my privilege, through the coaching of Martin, who thoroughly enjoyed my cigarettes and chocolate ration, to be adopted into the Soputa village. Otherwise, I would never have known one third of what I've written. Consequently, I consider myself very fortunate, and if I ever return to New Guinea, I'll know where to find a friend, and get all the help I ever need.

Written permission on file to transcribe and place on-line given to Gayle Mohn Collins, Kalispell, Montana

Transcribed and contributed for use in Flathead MTGenWeb Project by: Gayle Mohn Collins, Kalispell, Montana

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