Samosir Island sits in the middle of this enormous lake. Home of the Batak people. The Batak are music loving artisans, very friendly and welcoming, their history of cannibalism and warfare is no longer evident, only in stories and some remaining architecture. We visited one of the villages where a Stone chair circle still stands. Within this circle, the King, Queen and medicine man determined the guilt of the criminal, then removed him to another circle where his body was sliced with a knife and he was beheaded. The King drank the blood, ate the heart and liver and threw the remains in the lake! And that’s the abridged version!! I’ve saved all the gory details.....
Our cottage is a traditional Batak house and sits so close to the lake it virtually overhangs it. Our outlook is forever changing with differing light. Surrounded by an exquisite view of water, distant volcanos and surrounding mountains the wind either gently blows, or howls across the lake, making for a delightfully cool temperature. When the wind really picks up, the waves are continuously rolling past and slapping into the wall beneath us.
The weaving here is superb with the “ulos” (a woven sash) being an essential part of everyone’s wardrobe. These ulos vary in intricate designs, from fairly plain to pompom additions or beads woven through. To watch the women weave is a real treat.
On a motorbike adventure one day, I spy an elderly woman hanging out reams of freshly dyed threads. We turn around and I ask her, in my limited Indonesian, if we may look. It appears my language knowledge isn’t too bad, as we not only saw the threads but she welcomed us into her home and showed us her weaving.
Sitting on the floor, her bent over and crinkled frame no obstacle, she attached herself to the weaving apparatus and began to weave her magic. I was mesmerised by her withered hands that so meticulously and artfully flung back and forth, leaving a trail of colour and pattern behind. So many of our traditional arts/crafts are lost in our modern world....once again I feel a longing for simplicity.
The road that circumnavigates the island is scattered with huge Christian graves. They sit /protrude from many high points and vary from coloured tile lined to enormous monoliths that brightly display Jesus or Mary shining out. Some can be several storeys high, with empty ‘cases’ awaiting the next family member who ‘drops off’!
We attended church on Sunday.
The Christian faith is extremely strong on the island and so I decided I wanted to experience their faith. The congregation sang with gusto. The church was packed! The singing, accompanied by trumpet was warm and inclusive. The familiar/predictable tunes made it easy to sing along; my own words blended in beautifully. I sang of peace, I sang of beauty and I sang of love!
Then began the “sing offs.” I was moved to the point of near sobbing as the first women’s choir stood and sang. Their voices soared and soothed and lifted and lilted like you could never imagine. They harmonised and overlapped their voices with sheer beauty. There I was, not only with copious tears, but fighting off the shuddering shoulders of absolute sobbing. When they came to a close, I wanted to stand, to cheer, to hoot and holler!! I didn’t. I continued to wipe the tears!!!
Next came a young women’s group. Maybe 50 girls aged around 15-20. Again their voices challenged all the senses. Men’s groups followed; fabulous baritones, amazing basses, altos and tenors, the harmonies were divine! In between the whole congregation would pray and sing various hymns.
We hire the bike again and wind our way to the top of the island, an undulating plateau. The road follows the escarpment around half of the island through villages and warungs at scenic lookouts. The vastness of the lake spread out below. Pine plantations and gum trees on the slopes and plateau replace what was once all natural forest. Rice fields full of weeds awaiting cultivation before the wet arrives and buffalo roaming around the villages.
Viona, whom we hired the bike from, asks about where we have been eating and we tell her the tourist restaurants are all very boring. She offers to cook a traditional spicy lake fish dish with vegies and we accept. A large bbq goldfish of some sort with chilli and spices........enak (delicious). The next night chicken curry and gado gado.........enak sekali (very delicious)......
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