The Oracle

​This man reads in the hearts

To learn more about him, see below.

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In June 2017, I embarked on a motorcycle trip of more than 3000 kilometers from the island of Java to Sumba.

Java to Flores,return: 3332 kilometers

Road going to Waingapu, Sumba

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​On the 1st of July, after a week's rest at Pondok Wisata Cemara in Sumba, I left this haven of peace by motorbike to go to Waingapu port. The owner of the hotel did not want me to go alone so one of his staff guided me to the port.

The road to Waingapu harbour was narrow and winding. It was dark even though it was only seven o'clock in the evening. A few times, our motorcycle headlights lit the eyes of the wandering buffaloes strolling in the middle of the road.

A surreal night trip among the beasts

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Ferry from Waingapu to Aimere. A Night Trip.

When I arrived at Waingapu harbor, the ferry's lower and upper decks were already filled with passengers. I climbed to the second floor, straddling the passengers lying on the floors in the corridors. There were people in almost every nook and cranny of the ferry.
​I found a small, narrow space in a corner where I sat for six hours on the cold sheet metal floor.

At
four in the morning the captain announced our arrival at Aimere.

The engines were running well before the landing. People were eager to leave the ferry

​The drivers of the trucks, of the cars and motorcycles had started their engines
at least ten minutes before landing.
The lower deck was bathed in nauseating smoke and the noise was infernal.

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From the port of Aimere to the village of Bejawa

​If you look at the map of Google that shows the 43 kilometers of road that goes from Aimere to Bajawa, it seems like a giant snake has guided the engineers. The road starts at sea level and zigzags to Bajawa at about 1100 meters above sea level.

Road Aimere to Bejawa

Lucas Lodge at Bejawa / Carl and Risky

In Bajawa, the body heat I had accumulated in Aimere quickly dissipated because of the cold mountain air. When I arrived at
Lucas Lodge I had a throbbing headache and I was shivering.
I quickly went in, booked a room and asked for hot coffee. I sipped my coffee Bajawa Flores with delight, thinking that I would retire to my room and rest until the next day.
BUT......

Risky and Carl in traditional Flores sarong

…A young man named Risky sat down next to me. Risky was the owner's son.
He told me that a ceremony was taking place in a village nearby.
"Oh no," I said to myself. Carl, you need rest. Do not leave ".
But nothing to do, an hour after my arrival, I was at the house of Risky where he dressed me with a traditional sarong of Flores. Then off we went to attend the ceremony.

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Ceremony to celebrate a newly built house

​Risky and I arrived at the ceremony when the men were sacrificing the pigs.

More than 22 pigs were sacrificed

The way the animals are brought to death is not something I liked to see; but to be polite and show the owners and guests that I was honored to be part of their ceremony, I started taking photos.
The camera acted as a sort of shield hiding my feelings of pity.

Cleaning the skin with fire

Ready to be cut up

The meat of the
​sacrificed animals
will be distributed to more than 300 people

The entrails are brought to
​the oracle

Several families bring presents
and
​baskets filled with rice for the guests

Some baskets of rice are decorated with the heads of the pigs.

​What a privilege!
I was invited to enter the new house.

The traditional houses of Flores are comprised of a central room that serves as kitchen,
​bedroom and room to receive family and friends.

​ 
The central room of the house in Flores is sacred and not just any stranger can have access to it.

Traditionnel Flores house

Two girls of the family posing in front of the main room

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The oracle

 An Oracle is the one who knows that he knows nothing.
Everybody knows it. But all go along with this illusion.
As long as he predicts that the harvest will be good and the children will be healthy (C.V.)

The owners, seeing that I was a friend of Risky and that I participated in a polite and respectful way to the events, invited me to enter the central room of the house. When I climbed the three steps to the inner sanctuary, I felt extremely shy and privileged.

The village elders examine the entrails of sacrificed pigs

The room was dark and smoky

In the "central sanctuary" of the house, the owners were in consultation with some elders. Before them were plates in which were deposited the bowels of some sacrificed pigs.

The hearts and livers are carefully analyzed

​
​The oldest, the one, which seemed the chief, analyzes the shape and color of hearts and livers.

He is an oracle announcing the future of the family.
​
The owner and his wife smiled.
I think the omen was auspicious.

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Back at the lodge,
Risky's mother served me a piece of liver cooked in a typical Flores sauce.

Looking at the contents of my plate, I wondered what the Oracle would have prophesied to me.