Indonesian Folklore (Folklor Indonesia): Tales from Nusantara (Archipelago): Pasola Trails: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Life After Pasola

Edisi Indonesia: Kehidupan Setelah Pas

The Transitionola

The Pasola Festival had ended, but its energy still lingered in the air. As the sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the village elders gathered at the edge of the Pasola field for a ceremonial closing. They stood in a circle around a small, crackling fire, their faces illuminated by its warm glow. Each elder held a handful of rice, which they gently sprinkled onto the ground as they offered prayers to the Marapu ancestors. The soft murmur of their voices filled the evening air, blending with the crackle of the flames. This ceremony was a sacred tradition, marking the end of the Pasola and the return to the rhythms of daily life. The fire symbolized the festival’s fierce spirit, now safely returned to the earth, and the rice, a symbol of life, promised prosperity in the days to come.

As the fire slowly died down, the villagers began their journey home. The path was lit by the fading light of the day, and the air was cool and calm. Marapu and Raja, side by side, moved with a relaxed gait, the tension of the day’s events easing with each step. The silence between them was comfortable, a shared understanding born from their shared experiences. They paused on a hilltop overlooking the village, where the lights from the homes below flickered like stars. Marapu gazed at the scene, feeling a deep sense of connection to this land and its people. The view was a reminder that the Pasola was not just a festival but a celebration of their shared life and history.

The next morning, the village came alive with the sound of laughter and conversation. The villagers gathered in the central meeting area for a communal meal, a tradition that marked the end of the Pasola. The meal was simple, yet abundant, with dishes made from freshly harvested crops and fish caught from the nearby river. As they ate, the villagers shared their favorite moments from the festival, laughing and reminiscing about the daring feats and close calls. The atmosphere was warm and relaxed, a stark contrast to the intense energy of the Pasola. For Marapu and Raja, it was a moment to reconnect with their friends and neighbors, to celebrate not just the festival’s end, but the bonds that it strengthened.

Later that day, as the sun began its descent once more, Marapu found himself standing near the village’s sacred tree. The tree, ancient and wise, was a place of reflection, where villagers came to seek guidance or simply to think. Marapu looked up at its sprawling branches, feeling the weight of the festival’s events still lingering in his mind. The Pasola had been a test of courage and skill, but it was also a reminder of the deeper connections that bound them all together. As he stood there, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. The festival was over, but its spirit would continue to guide him in the days to come. He turned away from the tree, ready to embrace the quiet challenges and joys of daily life, knowing that the lessons of the Pasola would stay with him always.

Settling into Daily Routines

With the Pasola behind them, life in the village began to settle back into its familiar patterns. The villagers returned to their fields, tending to their crops with the same care and attention that they had shown during the festival. The soil, rich and fertile, responded eagerly to their efforts, promising a bountiful harvest. Marapu watched as the farmers worked, their hands moving with practiced ease. There was a rhythm to their movements, a steady, unhurried pace that spoke of generations of knowledge and tradition. The fields were a patchwork of greens and golds, the crops swaying gently in the breeze. It was a sight that filled Marapu with a deep sense of peace. This was the heart of their life, the quiet, steady work that sustained them all.

In the village, the women were busy with their crafts, weaving intricate patterns into cloth and creating beautiful pieces of jewelry. The air was filled with the sound of their chatter, a constant, comforting background to the day’s activities. The children, free from the excitement of the Pasola, returned to their games, their laughter echoing through the village. Marapu and Raja often wandered through these scenes, their presence a reminder of the recent festival. Yet, there was no sense of disruption. Instead, they were part of the fabric of daily life, as essential as the crops and the crafts. Marapu’s thoughts often returned to the Pasola, but now, they were tempered by the calm of the everyday. The festival had been a test of skill and courage, but this, he realized, was the true measure of strength—the ability to return to the simple, steady work of life with the same dedication and care.

A New Day in Sumba

As dawn broke over the village, the first light of day painted the landscape in soft, golden hues. The village slowly came to life, with the sounds of roosters crowing and the rustle of leaves in the morning breeze. The villagers rose with the sun, ready to face another day of work and community. For Marapu and Raja, this was a moment of quiet reflection. They stood at the edge of the village, looking out over the fields and the distant sea. The land stretched out before them, vast and full of promise. It was a new day, a new beginning, and they were ready to face it with the same courage and determination that had carried them through the Pasola. The festival was over, but its spirit lived on in the hearts of the villagers, guiding them in their daily lives and reminding them of the strength they found in each other.

The chapter closes with this serene image, capturing the essence of life in Sumba—a life that is rooted in tradition, sustained by hard work, and enriched by the bonds of community. The Pasola may be over, but its legacy continues, woven into the fabric of daily life, a constant reminder of the courage, skill, and unity that defines the people of Sumba.