Childhood Revisited - Kaamatan

I was homesick.

I missed the time when I was at home spending time with my family celebrating Harvest Festival or any holiday season. I never liked festivities and crowds but always treasure the memories of time spent with my family.

It is the month of May, and Harvest Festival is celebrated throughout the land where Little Dove comes from. During Harvest Festival, we would visit relatives’ homes. I remember the Sumazau, a slow rhythmic dance with graceful movements likened to birds flying. Sumazau is usually performed during rituals, wedding ceremony and social occasions. The Kadazan ladies wear the selendang (sashes, usually in red color) while the male dancers wear around their waists, grass-like stuff that is actually made of palm leaves, which is believed to chase away the evil spirit. During the festivities, there would be a live band of old women playing gongs (young people have deserted traditional instruments), to accompany the Sumazau dance. First the house owners would begin the dance, and as the music goes on, they would pass the grass-like stuff to guests. When you get the grass-like stuff, there is no escape. They would put it on you (like a sash) and magically, you start dancing the sumazau. Okay, I lied. Actually you have to move and dance by yourself, smile as happily as you can even if you can’t dance to save your life because everyone would be looking at you to see you embarrassing yourself. Most people love having the grass-like thing thrown on them and immediately jump to dance. The fun part comes from watching. Some people dance the Sumazau looking more like chicken than bird. But then, a chicken is technically a bird, so they dance like a crazy bird, instead of imitating the graceful moves of a flying bird.

As the month-long celebration comes to an end, people anticipate the highlight of the entire festival, the crowning of the Unduk Ngadau, or Harvest Festival queen. The Unduk Ngadau, symbolizes Huminodun, the beautiful and selfless beloved daughter of Kinoingan, the god or creator for the people from my tribe, who sacrificed herself for the people. It is also believed that she is the first who taught the Bobohizan (high priestess) their ritual mantras, which exist to this today. By becoming the queen, you indirectly become the saviour of all Kadazandusun, saviour to all natives of northern Borneo. For me, it is actually more meaningful than Miss Universe.

Daphne Iking, the TV host, is the most profilic Unduk Ngadau ever, the Huminodun for year 2003.

Mom never really liked me mixing with my cousins or people from the tribe. “I should not learn their ways”, she said. They drink a lot and party way too much. It is not uncommon to hear stories of drunk fathers waking up in the mornings beside their own daughters after a night of heavy boozing. You can see very special paediatric diseases at the local hospital that you might not see in KL. She does not want me to learn their bad habits and way of living. “They are too relaxed and not ambitious enough,” again she complained. This is true, the Kadazans are extremely good-natured people and easily contented. This is what makes them such peaceful people. I think of this as a good trait. The Kadazan staff nurses in the hospital are extremely nice, a far cry from the staff nurses you find in HKL. Mom thinks this is bad for survival and hence sent me to a private school where competition is stiff. She always believed I should achieve my greatest potential.

I was quite confused while growing up. I never really felt Kadazan enough, nor did I ever felt Chinese enough. I wonder if Mariah Carey had the same problem as I did, with her being half-black and half-white. As a result of my confusion, I always tick “lain-lain” when filling up the ethnicity section in forms.

Due to some dominant genetic traits, the people from my tribe are usually short and stout (muscular in a certain way). But I am tall and slender and usually feel out of place with my cousins. I disliked my facial features but mom always had a way of making me feel good about myself. When I was little, I never liked my forehead. Mom points out to the Unduk Ngadau or the beauty queens and how they always wore their hair in high buns, exposing their smooth foreheads. “It’s a sign of beauty and elegance,” mom informed me. Being young, I was happy on hearing that. But then again, “Mom, I’m a boy!”

Childhood are always the happiest times. I missed mine. Do you miss yours?

To my Kadazan readers, wherever you are:

Kopivosian kumaa tobpinai songovian. Manganu oku do kosivatan diti do mamason Kotobian Tadau Tagazo Do Kaamatan toun 2010. Ahapon da tadau diti mongovit do kavasian kumaa tokou songovian. Aramai ti!

I do not want to grow up, so my parents would not grow old and die.
Little Dove