T

o tourists, the sight of a row of young men or women tightly holding a 2.5-meter long bamboo stem with a diameter of 8 centimeters close to their chests while swaying back and forth frantically may seem oddly entertaining.

But they were not acting. During a recent trip, organized by the Environment and Forestry Ministry, they were seen playing tug of war with a spirit trapped in the hollow stem cut at the segments with both ends closed.

Two medicine men — Matias Hamberi and Bertus Yamban — who are also local community leaders in Akudiomi customary village in Nabire, Papua, were close by.

The medicine men used a burning concoction of cassowary feathers, needles of a certain Thuja conifer locally called narunak rigre (also called crazy needles), agarwood and spike moss and some magic spell to trick the spirit into ensnaring itself, much like a mouse trap baited with a piece of leftover meat.

Each segment between the ends was smoked. The spirit was attracted by the energy emitted by the burning concoction that trapped it inside the stem.

Once inside, the spirit struggled to free itself, which may explain why the stem became heavier and had a mind of its own. It pushed and shoved the players haphazardly, swaying them back and forth although they tried to keep it under control.

It seemed the spirit traveled from one end of the stem to the other in the direction of the shaman, whose concoction burned more intensely. At the end of the game, the spirit was extracted from the stem by burning it.  

Those engaged in the battle must either be male or female, not both. If they get overwhelmed, two strong Akudiomi men would rush in to help them keep a hold of the stem at each end respectively.

Women who are pregnant or have their periods and men who have a pregnant wife are forbidden to participate. If the players are women, the shamans will normally trap a weaker, gentler spirit. Strong male players may expect to take on a more aggressive spirit.

This game, definitely pagan in its roots, runs counter to God’s prohibition of conjuring spells and communicating with the dead, ghosts and other spirits as mentioned in the Old Testament.

However, it is kept alive by Akudiomians who are mostly Protestants and even practiced by its community leaders as it has become a local cultural attraction they can sell to tourists.

“It’s a remnant of early church evangelism,” said Naomi Hamberi, the wife of the late Lukas Musyeri, who was one of the elders of the Evangelical Church in the Land of Papua’s Immanuel Kwatisore Assembly.    

She was talking while weaving palm leaf pouches to be used as rice containers, explaining that “early church evangelists who came here used this game they brought from Maluku or Ternate as a strategy to attract and gather a crowd”.

“In so doing, these evangelists built momentum to preach the gospel and invite the crowd to accept Christ as their Lord and Savior. The game has since been passed on from generation to generation,” she said.

If paganism was used as a tool to build rapport with then-pagan Akudiomians and convert them to Christianity, it would not be surprising to find that, despite being Christians, they still hold fast to their long-held belief that they are the progeny of Hirim Beni — the first giant ancestor who set foot on Akudiomi now symbolized by the giant Akudiomi Rock. Some also believe whale sharks, dugongs and dolphins are their ancestors.

Thus, the belief that a dash of paganism would not do any harm to help spread the gospel has now resulted in it and Christianity, which seeks to destroy it, becoming strange bedfellows.

Akudiomi’s indigenous community leader, Jhon Aduari, said they have come to regard this Maluku game like traditional Papuan dances they regularly stage to celebrate Christmas and New Year.

“Indeed, the game’s mystic character goes against Christian teachings but that can simply be discounted because we use it just for entertainment purposes.”