I went to Borneo a couple of months ago to record a method of fire-making for the pyrologists in the Fire craft forum. However, when I arrived the harvest was being taken in and, since I couldnt really ask a subsistence farmer to indulge my pyromania and neglect his crop and his familys nutrition, I joined in the rice harvest.
I have seen rice harvested before but only from the neat little fields that you see in tourist brochures of Thailand etc. and I never really paid much attention to it. The method used here is much closer to the dry rice cultivation of the interior hill tribes who use a swidden style of agriculture where large trees were felled and the cleared area burnt before sowing.
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These trees were useful because they provided walkways, haphazard but effective, to get around the spongy and sometimes muddy field. That was comforting too as I did not have protection, other than socks, for my ankles and calves and this was cobra and krait country.
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[fallen trees/herambang]
The tool for harvesting is a clever device. The tool is held against your hand by a rubber strap which keeps the base plate and blade in the correct position. All you have to do to cut the stalk is to grab it in your hand against the shaft and rotate your hand outward drawing the blade across the stalk. You then drop the rice stalk into your basket. The blade is not scary sharp but it would not be nice if you forgot that you are equipped like Edward Scissor hands and scratched your ear or shooed away a swamp fly or if the strap was loose and the blade turned and you closed your hand on it as you grabbed a rice stalk.
[/IMG]
[tool]
The traditional tool was a bit trickier than the current one as the blade was placed between your fingers
[/IMG]
[trad tool]
The local word for harvesting is ketam. This means crab and I always wondered at that but now it is clear. The harvester is moving his hands like a crabs.
[/IMG]
[The cut]
Compared to the lban, I am a slow crab. They somehow are able to grab half a dozen stalks at once while I managed one or two at most. If I aim for more they get tangled and I lose part of the rice. They are thorough. After they have been in an area there is not a stalk of standing rice left and most of the recoverable rice from fallen plants has been taken.
[/IMG]
It is restful for the mind, and the repitition is soothing. You get into an alpha state despite the heat and the kraits lurking in the rice and this calm remains even as you take a break after filling your basket of rice. I might feel differently if I had to do it every day for months.
The scenery helps.
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[/IMG]
[helijump]
The white cliff is Helijump which some of you may recognize
[/IMG]
[Forest]
We had lunch at a little hut near the field and a good lunch it was too. Thats the headman blowing through the bamboo tube temiang bamboo
[/IMG]
This is his wife walking down the infamous notched poles that have caused so much grief to travelers in Borneo particularly after a few glasses of tuak the rice wine.
[/IMG]
The rice we collect is delivered here and dried before being threshed . when it is left overnight it is wrapped in mats and groundsheets and covered with collapsible roofs made from a plant. These are very durable and look nicer than plastic or corrugated iron.
[/IMG]
[rice shelter]
At the end f the day, as I was leaving the field I came across the headman returning with the gear for a trap. He said a pig had been in the field and was going to put a trap out. He cut 2 saplings and we walked the bounds he selected a place on a trail made by the pig and set it up. It was spring snare. Simple and less hassle to make than those of those in Loftys book.
[/IMG]
[foto]
[/IMG]
The headman knows his traps and makes some beautiful delicate ones but this was a workaday one. I was trying to walk by the trail so as not to leave scent but he was oblivious to that concern. I asked if the pig would be put off by my BO but he said not this one.
The whole trap set up was no more than 20 minutes from seeing him on the trail, tracking the pigs routes in the field, selecting a site and building the trap which was impressive.
We returned just before sundown, had a ladle bath of clear cold bracing river water and sat on the ruai outer verandah of a long house before sitting down to a meal of the last boar that was caught by one of his traps.
Next morning this chap was up bright and early to walk to his field with his spear and dogs. He is ready for any game that may chance his way
[/IMG]
On the way back I found this krait and moved him to the side of the road.
[/IMG]
I have seen rice harvested before but only from the neat little fields that you see in tourist brochures of Thailand etc. and I never really paid much attention to it. The method used here is much closer to the dry rice cultivation of the interior hill tribes who use a swidden style of agriculture where large trees were felled and the cleared area burnt before sowing.
These trees were useful because they provided walkways, haphazard but effective, to get around the spongy and sometimes muddy field. That was comforting too as I did not have protection, other than socks, for my ankles and calves and this was cobra and krait country.
[fallen trees/herambang]
The tool for harvesting is a clever device. The tool is held against your hand by a rubber strap which keeps the base plate and blade in the correct position. All you have to do to cut the stalk is to grab it in your hand against the shaft and rotate your hand outward drawing the blade across the stalk. You then drop the rice stalk into your basket. The blade is not scary sharp but it would not be nice if you forgot that you are equipped like Edward Scissor hands and scratched your ear or shooed away a swamp fly or if the strap was loose and the blade turned and you closed your hand on it as you grabbed a rice stalk.
[tool]
The traditional tool was a bit trickier than the current one as the blade was placed between your fingers
[trad tool]
The local word for harvesting is ketam. This means crab and I always wondered at that but now it is clear. The harvester is moving his hands like a crabs.
[The cut]
Compared to the lban, I am a slow crab. They somehow are able to grab half a dozen stalks at once while I managed one or two at most. If I aim for more they get tangled and I lose part of the rice. They are thorough. After they have been in an area there is not a stalk of standing rice left and most of the recoverable rice from fallen plants has been taken.
It is restful for the mind, and the repitition is soothing. You get into an alpha state despite the heat and the kraits lurking in the rice and this calm remains even as you take a break after filling your basket of rice. I might feel differently if I had to do it every day for months.
The scenery helps.
[helijump]
The white cliff is Helijump which some of you may recognize
[Forest]
We had lunch at a little hut near the field and a good lunch it was too. Thats the headman blowing through the bamboo tube temiang bamboo
This is his wife walking down the infamous notched poles that have caused so much grief to travelers in Borneo particularly after a few glasses of tuak the rice wine.
The rice we collect is delivered here and dried before being threshed . when it is left overnight it is wrapped in mats and groundsheets and covered with collapsible roofs made from a plant. These are very durable and look nicer than plastic or corrugated iron.
[rice shelter]
At the end f the day, as I was leaving the field I came across the headman returning with the gear for a trap. He said a pig had been in the field and was going to put a trap out. He cut 2 saplings and we walked the bounds he selected a place on a trail made by the pig and set it up. It was spring snare. Simple and less hassle to make than those of those in Loftys book.
[foto]
The headman knows his traps and makes some beautiful delicate ones but this was a workaday one. I was trying to walk by the trail so as not to leave scent but he was oblivious to that concern. I asked if the pig would be put off by my BO but he said not this one.
The whole trap set up was no more than 20 minutes from seeing him on the trail, tracking the pigs routes in the field, selecting a site and building the trap which was impressive.
We returned just before sundown, had a ladle bath of clear cold bracing river water and sat on the ruai outer verandah of a long house before sitting down to a meal of the last boar that was caught by one of his traps.
Next morning this chap was up bright and early to walk to his field with his spear and dogs. He is ready for any game that may chance his way
On the way back I found this krait and moved him to the side of the road.
though that pattern is also called a scorpion, I believe.
