From Wakatobi to the Forefront: XR’s Photo Contest on Water

Water is one of our planet’s most precious resources, yet it faces immense challenges worldwide. Extinction Rebellion (XR) organized a global photo competition to raise awareness about these issues, inviting photographers to capture the beauty, struggles, and importance of water. The competition highlighted stories from all corners of the world, showcasing everything from drought-stricken landscapes to communities working to protect this vital resource.

In the end of 2024, XR announced the winners of the competition. While my photo wasn’t among the three winners, it was shortlisted and became part of the final selection for the public vote. The shortlisted photos have since been featured in a traveling exhibition across Europe, visiting cities like Madrid and London, where they continue to inspire and educate audiences.

The photo I submitted was taken in the Wakatobi Islands, Indonesia, depicting a fisherman and his child in a small boat, gliding over crystal-clear blue waters during a net fishing trip inside the Wakatobi National Park. It reflects the deep connection between the Sama Dilaut people and the ocean, celebrating their potential sustainable and harmonious way of life.

You can see the winning and all shortlisted photos here: XR Global Photography Contest – Water Gallery

Below are some of the other photos submitted to the competition:

January 18, 2025 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

A New Perspective on Marx’s Theory of Alienation and Human Creativity

Karl Marx’s insights into human nature and alienation remain profoundly relevant today. His early writings described a human nature fundamentally at odds with the capitalistic system because their creative ability came into the possession of others. Marx’s ideas highlighted the disconnection individuals felt from their labor, their products, and ultimately themselves.

The new understanding of human development, as discussed in my previous articles, sheds new light on creativity and alienation. Throughout evolution, tools and technology helped humans establish themselves in environments where they were not biologically adapted. Intertwined with our evolution, tools and technology have significantly shaped our creative ability. This adaptation led to significant brain development, enabling us to imitate and reproduce behaviors; and in situations of big changes make us able to invent. Tools changed our hands, particularly the thumb grip, and enhanced qualities such as increased working memory, spatial cognition, and improved coordination and dexterity.

Additionally, it spurred the development of language, which originally was structured behavior and what we can describe as embodied culture. In this text, I will explore the foundations of human creation and see what we can learn about alienation from a modern perspective. How does our evolutionary journey illuminate the causes of alienation in today’s world?

Creation as a Mental Process

Creation is fundamentally a mental process where an image or idea from the mind is projected onto external reality. When humans create, we transfer a mental image onto reality, projecting a part of ourselves onto the material world. This process of creation is not only about material production but also about expressing and shaping human identity, culture, and mind. Creation is inherently a spiritual act, where the materialization of mental images connects us deeply with our inner selves and the universe around us.

This understanding is central to comprehending how humans have historically used language and tools in a way that does not distinguish between body and mind. This unity reflects a state where language and tool use were inseparable, representing a holistic way of interacting with the world. Early Homo sapiens were remarkably stable and conservative in their tools and material culture, with no evidence of art or symbolic representation for more than half of their existence. This suggests that their interaction with the world was primarily practical and utilitarian, rather than expressive or decorative.

This unity is also reflected in nearly all mythologies that describe an original undifferentiated state where humans and nature were inseparable. In other words, the human brain fostered a sense of connectivity enabled through our mind-tool relationship with the world. This holistic interaction with our environment highlights the deep-rooted integration of cognitive and physical processes in human development.

The neuroscientist Michael Arbib and the paleoanthropologist André Leroi-Gourhan have both contributed to our understanding of this connection. Arbib has explored how grasping for material objects and the role of mirror neurons laid the foundation for what later became language as we know it today (Arbib, 2012). Arbib also claims that human language arose in a different part of the brain than the so-called primate calls. Leroi-Gourhan, on the other hand, has highlighted the role of technology as a kind of “membrane” that mediates the relationship between humans and their surroundings, demonstrating the deeply integrated role of technology in human culture and cognitive development (Leroi-Gourhan, 1993).

Marx’s Philosophy of Creation and Alienation

Karl Marx saw humans as creative beings who actively reshaped the world around them, constantly interacting with their environment. Our new understanding of evolution and creation provides a fresh and solid foundation for Marx’s thinking about human nature and alienation. The insight that language and tool use were intertwined from the beginning reveals the profound nature of creation—it is not just a reflection of the inner world but also a way to physically and actively shape our environment. There is an intricate interplay between human creation and the environment, each influencing and transforming the other, which in turn contributes to societal change and change of mind.

Marx recognized that when humans’ creative power is taken from them and transformed into something alien and unknown, it leads to deep alienation (Marx, 1959). It is not just that everything becomes a commodity in capitalism; it is that we lose a part of ourselves when our work—our materialized self—is taken from us. According to Marx, when we create, a part of our soul is materialized in the product. When this product, this piece of our soul, does not belong to us but to someone else through private property regulations and monetary transactions, something in us is lost. Marx originally philosophized about this, describing how this deprivation makes the individual feel alienated from the products of their own labor and ultimately from themselves. This separation is deeply harmful to both individual well-being and the health of society at large. In this stage, people function only in their most basic physiological capacities, devoid of soul, creativity, and happiness.

Originally, this creation involved monotonous repetitive movements that did not include symbols. However, during the cognitive revolution, which occurred between 50,000 and 75,000 years ago, language became unrestrained and started to incorporate symbols, transforming the way humans thought and created. Despite this transformation, creation has always remained fundamentally a spiritual practice. It has always been a way to reconnect with the original sense of connectivity and unity of body and soul.

The Body as Master of the Brain

Recent research offers new insights into Karl Marx’s ideas on alienation. Guy Claxton, a psychologist and cognitive scientist, has challenged the conventional view of the brain as the primary controller of human activity. He posits that the brain should be seen as a servant to the body, emphasizing the crucial role of physical interaction in cognitive processes (Claxton, 2015). This perspective highlights the importance of bodily experiences and actions in our cognitive development and creative expression, a concept that is increasingly acknowledged in the field of embodied cognition.

Claxton also argues that a significant part of our thinking resides in our hands. Monotonous creation, such as crafting or art, can calm and focus the mind. This process involves a dialogue between mind and matter, where mental concepts are projected and transformed through physical actions. This idea supports Marx’s view that labor, when aligned with one’s essence, becomes a source of fulfillment.

Living with Material Technology

The influential anthropologists Marshall Sahlins has posited that traditional and indigenous peoples often lead lives of relative abundance and satisfaction through their deep integration with their material environment (Sahlins, 1972). This idea challenges modern assumptions about material wealth and fulfillment, suggesting that human well-being is closely tied to a harmonious relationship with one’s surroundings. All traditional peoples have more or less created their own material world, embodying a symbiotic relationship with their environment that fosters both sustainability and contentment.

The Bajau Laut people are a modern example of a group that still lives this way today. They exemplify how deeply satisfying it can be to live in harmony with one’s material technology. By directly creating their world through interactions with their environment, they demonstrate a way of life where technology and the environment are not foreign or separate from daily human life but rather an integrated part of it. Much of what they use in their daily lives, such as boats, fishing gear, goggles, and even their houses, are created with their own hands.

This form of direct engagement in creating and shaping one’s world is reflected in various indigenous and traditional societies worldwide and is central to human fulfillment. The practice of crafting and using tools that are intimately connected to their environment not only meets practical needs but also reinforces a profound sense of identity and purpose. By examining the lifestyles of the Bajau Laut and other indigenous groups, we gain insight into the essential human drive to create and the deep satisfaction derived from living in harmony with the material world.

The Abundance of Soul in Capitalism

Marx also briefly touched on the alienation that capitalists themselves experience, who, despite accumulating wealth, lose touch with their human nature. In a capitalist framework, everything, including creativity and human interactions, becomes a means to an end, breaking the fundamental connections with the natural world, community, and oneself. The purpose of existence, which once involved meaningful engagement and fulfilment, is overshadowed by the relentless pursuit of wealth. This detachment creates an insatiable state of lack, revealing a profound societal alienation.

In such a society, our lives become tools for accumulation. The primary role is to accumulate money, which can be transformed into anything, giving it a powerful allure. This drive shifts our existence towards the relentless pursuit of wealth, energy, and material gains, transforming our very essence into different forms of capital. This can lead to an overwhelming abundance of ‘soul’—the materialized product of others’ hard work and alienation. However, this influx of material wealth and success does not satisfy; instead, it exacerbates the sense of emptiness and detachment.

As we become overwhelmed by this materialized soul, alienation also arises among the privileged, leading to an insatiable desire for more. This craving for more is starkly visible in Silicon Valley, where many tech entrepreneurs are now pursuing projects to unlock eternal life. This illustrates the complex and pervasive nature of alienation in modern capitalist society, where life becomes a tool for accumulation, and an abundance of material wealth fuels a deeper void.

Conclusion

Our exploration into the foundations of human creation, drawing from the perspectives of early Homo sapiens, Karl Marx, and indigenous peoples, reveals that reconnecting with our creative and spiritual essence is essential for overcoming alienation. The capitalist system’s relentless pursuit of wealth and commodification of life leads to a profound sense of disconnection and emptiness. This alienation affects not only workers but also capitalists, who remain estranged from their human nature despite their material success.

The earliest Homo sapiens were guided by their bodily experiences, which formed a kind of embodied culture and a deeply spiritual experience, where doing and thinking were inseparable from both hand and mind. This historical perspective shows that human creation and physical interaction have always been intertwined, providing a sense of unity and fulfillment that is often missing in modern capitalist societies.

We see this clearly in Silicon Valley, where the quest for more inventions and transcending human limits seems insatiable. Here, people are even pursuing projects to unlock eternal life, which is a profound sign of alienation. To counteract this, we must embrace the inherent satisfaction found in simplicity and monotonous creative expression. Indigenous peoples exemplify living in harmony with their material environment, fostering both sustainability and contentment.

Through the act of creation—whether through art or crafting—we engage in a meaningful dialogue with the world, connecting the spiritual and physical realms and allowing for genuine self-expression. Indigenous cultures, in particular, demonstrate the deep fulfillment that comes from integrating creative practices with everyday life, highlighting the importance of this balance.

Ultimately, we must recognize the limits of our needs and the futility of overindulgence. The constant striving for more only deepens the void within us. By choosing to be satisfied with less and focusing on reconnecting with our creative and spiritual roots, we can find true fulfillment and mitigate the alienation pervasive in modern society. Embracing a simpler, more connected way of living, as seen in indigenous cultures, offers a path to overcoming the deep-seated disconnection that capitalism perpetuates.

The ultimate alienation will not lead to the end of death; rather, it will lead to our dissolution.

References

Arbib, Michael. “How the Brain Got Language: The Mirror System Hypothesis.” Oxford University Press, 2012.

Leroi-Gourhan, André. “Gesture and Speech.” MIT Press, 1993.

Claxton, Guy. “Intelligence in the Flesh: Why Your Mind Needs Your Body Much More Than It Thinks.” Yale University Press, 2015.

Sahlins, Marshall. “Stone Age Economics.” Aldine-Atherton, 1972.

June 26, 2024 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Shifting the Paradigm: From Acheulean Hand Axes to Modern Minds

The prevailing paradigm in paleoanthropology asserts that we developed larger brains to manage and adapt to a wide range of environments and challenges. Our cognitive flexibility is thought to have evolved so that we could think abstractly, plan ahead, solve complex problems, and adjust our behavior to changing circumstances. This paradigm places the human brain and language at the center of evolution, suggesting that these capabilities enabled survival in a mosaic of environments (Klein, 2009; Tattersall, 2012).

However, the fossil record contradicts this perspective. Homo erectus lived from approximately 1.9 million years ago to around 110,000 years ago (Anton, 2003). During this extensive period, their brain volume nearly doubled, from about 600 cubic centimeters to approximately 1,000 cubic centimeters (Rightmire, 2004). Despite this significant increase in brain size over more than a million years, they continued to produce Acheulean hand axes with only minor variations and lived in warmer climates (Lycett & von Cramon-Taubadel, 2008). Tools can be seen as fossilized behavior – if the tools remained stable, it is likely that the behavior was also stable. Even early Homo sapiens, Neanderthals, and our common ancestor Homo heidelbergensis exhibited extreme conservatism in their behavior.

This raises the question: if the brain evolved to be flexible, why is this not reflected in the fossil record? One might also wonder why humans would evolve in constantly changing environments while other animals evolved to thrive in specific niches with stable survival strategies, sometimes displaying complex behaviors. Mammals such as bears and orcas live in relatively stable environments and exhibit intricate behaviors, contrasting with the portrayal of human evolution as being driven by constant environmental changes. Perhaps the idea of a perpetually changing environment is a misconception – a projection of modern man’s idolized flexible nature onto the process of evolution.

The Necessity of Stability for Evolutionary Change

Evolution requires stability. If a body part evolves, it signifies consistent behavior and selection pressure over generations. If the brain evolved to enhance flexibility and creativity, it implies that these humans lived in constantly changing environments and had to be inventive day after day. This contradicts the evolution of other body parts, which require stability over generations, as consistent selection pressure is necessary for body parts to be selected and changed. During the same period that Homo erectus developed a gradually larger brain over millennia, they also grew taller, became more robust, appeared to lose body hair, and developed a wider pelvis, among other changes (Tattersall, 2012).

Within the paleoanthropological paradigm, several of the human body’s physical characteristics have been considered of secondary importance. Anthropologists have primarily focused on how and why we stood on two legs and freed our hands, as well as explaining why we became hairless, which is considered important for thermoregulation—both traits seen as prerequisites for living in various environments (Klein, 2009).

Specific traits that were not considered to have direct survival value, such as women’s round breasts, lips, and body aesthetics, have often been explained by male attraction. This has led to a sexualization of human evolution, as Elaine Morgan insightfully demonstrated (Morgan, 1997).

Thus, anthropologists have been predominantly interested in brain development and have primarily focused on physical traits that enabled flexible behavior. This, in essence, encapsulates the current paradigm.

An Anomaly Foretelling a Paradigm Shift: The Aquatic Ape Theory

The Aquatic Ape Theory (AAT) cannot be accepted under the current paradigm of human evolution. The more arguments presented in its favor, the more it is ridiculed and marginalized. It has been likened to a hydra; when one head is cut off, two more grow back. As an anomaly, it has been treated with anger, ridicule, and denial, as I discussed in my Bachelor thesis from 2008. The Aquatic Ape Theory contradicts our current framework, where human development is viewed through the lens of adaptability and thriving in various environments. The prevailing paradigm focuses on understanding human evolution by studying when we became bipedal and freed our hands, as well as how we adapted to new dietary and climatic challenges.

The Aquatic Ape Theory helps explain a range of physical characteristics in humans that have previously been of little interest in anthropology. It explains why we have prominent lips, round breasts, hairlessness, streamlined hair growth, the diving response, sensitive fingertips, and the phenomenon of surfer’s ear. (Morgan, 1997; Verhaegen, 2013).

Our prominent lips can be seen as an adaptation for creating a seal while sucking liquids and food in a watery environment. Women’s round breasts may have developed to facilitate nursing in water, where the child may need to grasp the breast differently than on land. Human hairlessness could be an adaptation to reduce drag while swimming. The remaining body hair, such as on the head, is directed backward, which reduces water resistance.

The human diving response, which includes a reduced heart rate and decreased blood circulation to the extremities when submerged in water, is similar to that of marine mammals and supports the hypothesis of a water-based adaptation. Our sensitive fingertips may have developed to better feel and handle food and objects in a wet environment. The phenomenon of surfer’s ear, or exostoses in the ear canal, occurs more frequently in people who are regularly exposed to cold water, which could indicate an evolutionary adaptation to aquatic life.

These physical traits, previously seen as irrelevant or difficult to explain within the traditional paradigm of paleoanthropology, find a logical explanation through the Aquatic Ape Theory. This theory suggests that our ancestors spent a significant part of their lives in or near aquatic environments, which has shaped many of our unique physical characteristics (Morgan, 1997; Hardy, 1960; Verhaegen, 2013).

Both the fossil record, with its extremely conservative behavior observed in Homo erectus, Homo heidelbergensis, Neanderthals, and early Homo sapiens, and several of our physical traits receive a more plausible explanation when we envision a semi-aquatic past. As anomalies continue to accumulate within the current paradigm, in line with Kuhn’s theory, it becomes increasingly evident that a paradigm shift is imminent.

The Paradigm Shift

The copernican revolution, which I have previously written about, paves the way for the Aquatic Ape Theory by emphasizing bodily adaptations through evolution and highlighting the brain as an assistant to the body rather than a constant innovator. It is only through this fundamental shift that we can explain the fossil record over the past millions of years and fully understand our physical characteristics.

Our brains did not primarily evolve to make us continuously smarter and more innovative. On the contrary, their primary function was to stabilize our behavior, cement routines, and enhance our ability to imitate and emulate. This stability in behavior and technology enabled survival and adaptation over generations, rather than driving constant innovation.

The Role of Tools in Human Evolution: From Stability to Innovation

Tools have played a central role in human evolution. A hand axe, for example, represents an extension of the hand, equipped with a sharp cutting edge of stone. Tools can be considered exosomatic (external) organs that allow us to extract energy from environments that would otherwise be inaccessible. Tools enable us to adapt to environments where our bodies alone would fall short. Essentially, tools served as a bridge between our biological capabilities and the demands of new environments, acting like a lifeline that enabled adaptations which would otherwise be biologically impossible.

Once humans began using tools to survive in environments they were not biologically adapted to, evolution quickly and selectively adapted our bodies to these new surroundings. Throughout human history, this process involved adapting our bodies, behaviors, and the transmission of knowledge to new environments to become as efficient as possible in copying and imitating survival strategies. Working memory, perception, and especially language evolved and were refined to effectively replicate these behaviors. However, language should not be understood in the same way we relate to it today; rather, it was a stabilizing structure that linked humans to both their environment and each other. One could say that language functioned as if it were a biological trait due to its conservative nature. This explains the co-evolution of both brain and bodily adaptations, something the current paradigm struggles to comprehend.

The creative potential and power of language developed as latent abilities—they were the other side of the coin, the hidden force. During events of climate change, when the previously well-established survival strategy was no longer effective, language was reprogrammed, awakened, and became free and untamed. This led to technological innovations and adaptations. However, these innovations were only temporary until a new adaptive strategy emerged—since changes in nature do not occur indefinitely—after which stability and consistency were restored. This pattern applies to the transition from one human species to another.

For instance, Homo heidelbergensis appeared quite suddenly in the fossil record, with no clear intermediate forms linking them to their predecessors, suggesting a rapid evolution from earlier hominins (Rightmire, 1996). Similarly, Homo erectus emerged without evident transitional fossils, indicating a swift development from earlier species (Antón, 2003). This rapid emergence of new species can be explained by selective adaptation to specific environments, driven by the rapid explosion of creativity and intelligence. We developed new techniques that allowed us to adapt to new environments and find stable survival strategies. This stability, in turn, created strong selection pressure and led to evolution in a particular direction.                   

Final Reflections: The Hubris of Man

Homo erectus lived on earth for nearly 1.9 million years. Throughout this entire period, one tool was their most constant companion: the Acheulean hand axe.

With this tool, a seemingly simple yet enduringly effective invention, humans were able to survive in environments they were not biologically adapted to. Most likely, the stone axe was used to open shellfish, such as mussels and clams, which would otherwise have been inaccessible to humans (Morgan 2019). As Marc Verhaegen has suggested, Homo erectus became increasingly adept at exploiting the resources of the sea and lakes over time, refining and perfecting this survival strategy.

This insight sheds new light on who we are today. During the cognitive revolution, our language came alive, and we immediately sought new survival strategies. This also helps explain Alfred Wallace’s conundrum, as he argued that humans are mentally over-equipped for the kind of life they lead. Here we are, dreaming of moving to Mars and creating artificial general intelligence (AGI) and striving to reach a singularity, when what we should be striving for is to find and reproduce a long-term adaptive strategy, just as our ancestors did.

Before colonialism, there were groups of people who had lived stably for tens of thousands of years without actively reshaping nature through the domestication of plants and animals, such as the Kung people and Australian Aboriginals. Unfortunately, rationality and intelligence have taken over and led us astray. This is the hubris of man: to believe that endless innovation is the key to survival, when in reality, we might just end up being the species that perfected the art of self-destruction.

Literature

Antón, S. C. (2003). “Natural History of Homo erectus”. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 122(S37), 126-170.

Hardy, A. (1960). “Was Man More Aquatic in the Past?”. New Scientist, 7(1), 642-645.

Klein, R. G. (2009). The Human Career: Human Biological and Cultural Origins. University of Chicago Press.

Lycett, S. J., & von Cramon-Taubadel, N. (2008). “Acheulean variability and hominin dispersals: a model-bound approach”. Journal of Archaeological Science, 35(3), 553-562.

Morgan, E. (1997). The Aquatic Ape Hypothesis. Souvenir Press.

Morgan, G. F. (2019). The Acheulean Hand Axe: A Toolmaker’s Perspective. Academia.edu.

Rightmire, G. P. (1996). “The Human Career: Human Biological and Cultural Origins”. University of Chicago Press.

Rightmire, G. P. (2004). “Brain size and encephalization in early to Mid-Pleistocene Homo”. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 124(2), 109-123.

Tattersall, I. (2012). Masters of the Planet: The Search for Our Human Origins. Macmillan.

Verhaegen, M. (2013). “The Aquatic Ape Evolves: Common Misconceptions and Unproven Assumptions about the so-called Aquatic Ape Hypothesis”. Human Evolution, 28(3), 237-266.

Verhaegen, M. (2013). “The Aquatic Ape Hypothesis: Ten Years After”. Anthropological Review, 76(1), 1-17.

June 4, 2024 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Photo Book: A Visual Journey Through the Lives of the Bajau Laut

I am excited to release my latest photo book, which takes you through the captivating world of the Bajau Laut. Through a blend of vivid photography and engaging narrative, this book aims to bring you closer to the Bajau Laut — their everyday beauty, stark realities, rich culture, challenges, and their intimate bond with the ocean.

In this photo book, my goal is to offer more than just images; I strive to tell a story, convey emotions, and illuminate the unique cultural and environmental context of the Bajau Laut. Through my lens, you’ll experience the day-to-day life, the struggles, and the incredible resilience of these sea-faring people.

You can find the PDF version of the book below. Whether you’re a lover of photography, culture, or stories of human endurance and spirit, I hope you find this book both enlightening and inspiring.

Photo book: Waves of Being – a Phenomenological Journey with the Bajau Laut

April 18, 2024 | Categories: Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Sama Dilaut Documentary Screenings: A Wake-Up Call

In August and September, I, had the opportunity to participate in two screenings of the documentary Sama Dilaut, held at Copenhagen Biocenter and Kulturföreningen Tellus in Stockholm. Alongside the film director Christine Ramos, filmmaker Rhadem Musawah, ICLC director Michael Dawila Venning, and other panelists, I joined a post-screening discussion to explore the struggles faced by the Sama Dilaut.

The film gives an emotional glimpse into the day-to-day lives of the Sama Dilaut in Tandu-Owak, a coastal village on southern Sibutu Island in the southwestern Sulu Sea. Here, the Sama Dilaut, along with the Tausug and other Sama communities, struggle to make ends meet. Seaweed farming is an important livelihood, but fluctuating prices and a significant cut taken by middlemen make it difficult to sustain. The film also includes footage of the boat-dwelling community in Lahad Datu, which was dispersed several years ago.

The Sama Dilaut have traditionally viewed the sea as an endless source of life, a place where fish are plentiful for those willing to work hard and explore. However, over the years, this belief has been shaken by the reality of declining fish stocks, driven by overfishing, climate change, and destructive fishing methods such as trawling, dynamite fishing, and cyanide fishing.

The film has been screened in several European cities during the summer and autumn of 2023. It is a powerful way to highlight the challenges of the Sama communities, illustrating how climate change is already transforming the oceans and threatening the lives of the people who depend on them.

September 28, 2023 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Vanishing Traditions: The Struggle of the Sama Bajau in a Changing Ocean – Insights from Sampela, Indonesia

In April, I made a trip to Indonesia along with Eric Mulder, a doctoral student at the Department of Health Sciences at Mid-Sweden University. He is researching increased safety in free diving to prevent blackout. We went to Sampela in Wakatobi, a place I first visited in 2011 and have re-visited several times. Post-COVID, no airlines operate on the main island Wangi Wangi, so it took us three days to reach Sampela from Makassar.

“Half of Sampela live abroad,” my host Pondang said. “Many inhabitants have moved to other parts to Indonesia, as for example Johor, to make a living”. Some of the better fishermen were away, while others had returned. The fisherman Jahajudin who caught a barracuda back in 2016 had just come back from working on a plantation in Kalimantan. In 2012, he was photographed during a fishing trip by Al Jazeera, posing proudly and calmly on his boat. Now, he lacked swimming goggles but borrowed a pair before accompanying us on one of our daily fishing trips with Pondang. “Fishing isn’t as good anymore,” he explained when I asked why he wasn’t fishing as much as before. “The small fish don’t get a chance to grow.” I remembered how, in 2011, he had been part of a net fish drive (ngambai) team and how he had thrown small fish back into the water.

Catching Octopus with a Fake Lure

In the community, we made several daily trips with ten of the best local speargun fishermen. Eric has been involved in developing a pulse oximeter that can be used during active diving, which the Sama Bajau fishermen wore during our fishing trips. A pulse oximeter measures heart rate and peripheral oxygen saturation (often abbreviated as SpO2), an indicator of how much oxygen is being transported by hemoglobin in the blood to the body’s peripheral parts, such as fingertips, earlobes, and toes. If saturation is low, it can lead to a blackout.

During one of our daily fishing trips, we met an old man named Laharumu on a small boat. He had paddled all the way from Sampela, bringing a small sail with him. He lay flat with his face under the water surface, holding a line leading to a fake octopus, which he used to lure potential octopus prey. “When he catches an octopus, he bites it between the eyes,” Pondang explained, just like many Sama Bajau do in Kabalutan, central Sulawesi, which I had the opportunity to film in 2017.

On our way back, Laharumu came paddling again, showing us a small octopus he had caught despite a long day on the sea. I felt sorry for him – here was an old Sama Bajau fisherman using no motorized vessel, paddling for miles, and luring octopuses by mimicking their behavior. This type of fishing is much less harmful than the practices used by other Sama Bajau and the larger Indonesian community. His way of living is quickly disappearing due to the rapidly deteriorating environment and accelerating ocean heat. In sharp contrast, one fisherman from the community asked if I could bring him a sonar fish finder next time I visit the village.

Remembering Tadi – A Speargun Fisherman Throughout His Life

Tadi, another well-known man in the community and the father of several good fishermen, both men and women, had recently passed away. Even in his late age, he sustained himself solely from speargun fishing and was well aware of marine life and potential dangers at sea.

I remembered one occasion when he was sitting outside his house holding a poisonous sea snake between his fingers. “Ngei njeke” (it doesn’t bite), he said when I asked about the snake.

One day, when the fishermen were taking turns in the water wearing the pulse oximeter, Kabei, the son of Tadi, who was featured in the BBC’s production “Hunter of the South Seas” from 2015, shot fish while standing up in the boat with his speargun. First, Pondang’s son threw in bait from a parrot fish that lured fish, and when the fish came close to the surface, Kabei shot them. On one occasion, he shot two fish to the delight of the rest of us.

Sampela: A Community Under Pressure

Sampela is located inside Wakatobi National Park, which consists of four major islands where only small-scale fishing is permitted. The park also has a small core no-go zone. Even so, fish are on the decline in the area. Just outside of Kaledupa, there are extensive reefs, but large fish are becoming sparse.

This time, I could not see any sea urchins in the vicinity of Sampela which before had been in abundance – most likely because of consumption. I also saw fishermen net fishing small fish that feed on waste from the community under the stilt houses. Both these observations indicate increasingly tight living conditions in the area.

Tradition and Modernity in Sama Bajau Communities

One day, we traveled to the opposite side of Kaledupa, where another Sama Bajau community, Mantigola, is located. Compared to Sampela, Mantigola is very silent and less busy even though it is the oldest Sama Bajau community in Wakatobi. “Many people have become rich here,” Pondang explained. “Many of them have completed Haji, which only few people in Sampela have.” While walking on the bridges, we could see some wealthy buildings and very few people. The cheerful greetings that are very common in Sampela were largely absent.

In Sampela and other Sama Bajau villages, different parts of the village have distinct characters; some areas are more adapted to modern ways while others maintain traditional lifestyles. Some residents hold on to traditional beliefs, which can be described as a syncretism of Islam and animism, while others have fully embraced Islam. These differences, along with the various pressures from wider society and traditional norms, can literally be felt as one walks through Sampela.

However, there are also many people from neighboring groups who have fully assimilated into Indonesian Sama Bajau communities. For example, one participant in our diving study was a man whose parents both came from outside the village and were born non-Bajau (or “bagay” as the Indonesian Bajau call them), yet they had integrated fully into the Sama community. It is very common for Bajau to marry neighboring people and become assimilated into Sama culture, and vice versa. After a few decades, there is no visible difference between them and the “original” Sama Bajau. Genetic tests have shown that the Sama Bajau are more closely related to neighboring groups than to other Sama Bajau communities living distantly throughout Indonesia.

Vanishing Traditions

The likes of Laharumu are becoming increasingly rare. With dying oceans, unique and traditionally eco-friendly lifestyles are being lost. The Sama Bajau’s methods of fishing and their deep understanding of marine ecology, honed over generations, are invaluable. These traditional practices, which are less harmful to the environment, could be crucial in the future for sustainable fishing practices.

However, as their environment deteriorates rapidly, the knowledge and lifestyles of the Sama Bajau are also disappearing. Preserving their way of life is not just about saving a culture but also about safeguarding ecological wisdom that might be vital for the future of our oceans. If we lose the Sama Bajau and their traditional ecological knowledge, we risk forgetting valuable lessons in eco-friendly fishing methods and sustainable living.

May 6, 2023 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Sama Dilaut of Semporna

In the outskirts of Semporna there are more than 1 000 stateless Sama Dilaut. They live on remote islands in either stilt houses or houseboats with no right to basic health care. They also fear being deported to the Philippines and try to avoid the mainland.

They perceive the ocean as their home, but it can also be a trap in the longer run. There are several acute problems facing marine life, such as over fishing, coral bleaching, plastic pollution, acidification, and global warming.

February 15, 2021 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Growing up Next to Dying Corals

With the current development, 90 % of all coral reefs will be dead by 2050. Carbon emissions have to to be cut by 8 % every year if we are to keep global warming within bearable limits. Corona is just the beginning.

January 23, 2021 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Trapped in Modernity – Informal banking, Coastal Road Project and Shark Fin Soup in the Grand Opera

In mid-January, I made a new trip to Malaysia and the Philippines to learn more about the Sama Dilaut and their day-to-day activities. The trip started in Semporna which seemed more crowded than ever before – there was a lot of Chinese tourists, more expensive homestays, one more KFC. The central market was still under construction as it has been for almost a decade.

The live fish market was still flourishing – Sama people were offering stone fish, lobster, groupers and mantis shrimps for sale every afternoon on the busy road near the port. At this time, rumors about the corona virus had just started, and the first cases had reached Sabah. “The Chinese are bringing a virus”, the local Bajau people told me. More and more people were wearing masks in the streets.

One day, I took a trip around the harbor with a local boatman, Pohon. We passed by a houseboat nearby Bangau Bangau. “There have been “operasis” in Bodgaya” they said and pointed to a mountain protruding from the sea. “We jumped on to the houseboat and left the area”. I was surprised by this news since the Sama are mostly left alone on the islands. The reason could be increasing tensions between the Sabah parks and the Bajau Laut communities inside the Tun Sakaran Marine Park. On islands such as Sibuan and Mantabuan there are restrictions on how many stilt houses that are allowed, and the Sama are prohibited to fish in their nearby surroundings.

Banking in Stateless Communities

Later, I was invited to by Pohon to his house in Labuan Haji, a community based on Bum Bum island just outside Semporna. Originally, he is from Sitangkai where he went to high school before coming to Sabah. He and his family of nine are still waiting for Malaysian identity cards. I was offered food, a fish head, rice and cassava. I was also given soy sauce, chili and salt to prepare for myself. Most of the people in Labuan Haji are without Malaysian documentation – many of them are from Philippine islands such as Siasi and Sitangkai. “Asigpit”, Pohons told me about his situation, there is a shortage of resources now.

As we were talking, two men in traditional shalwar kameez suddenly entered the stilt house. They were collecting utang, debts. One of the men had just arrived from Pakistan and was introduced to the banking business by his friend. The other man spoke Malay and he was also picking up some Sinama. After food we were talking outside the house next to a running washing machine. On the floor next to washing machine there was a brand-new boat engine. “It’s mine”, the street banker told me and glanced at a middle-aged man who was squatting by the machine looking at it with envy. “I’m waiting for installments”.

The next day we went on a fishing trip with local Bajau people. Pohon was organizing the trip – but it was not his boat, not his license. Without Malaysian documentation he can only rely on commission when taking tourists to the outer islands. His day-to-day work is to drive locals back and forth to Labuan Haji for 1 RM per passenger.

Visit in Numbak and MSU in Kota Kinabalu

After the visit to Semporna, I headed north to Kota Kinabalu – the metropolis of Sabah with direct flights to several Southeast Asian cities. One morning, I met the Malaysian anthropologist Sanen Marshall at University Malaysia Sabah (UMS). We headed towards the village of Numbak, where there is a big community of Sama Tabawan from the Philippines, as well as a small Sama Dilaut community. When we passed by the University Malaysia Sabah’s (UMS) walls Sanen activated his GPS and signed in to work before we continued towards the seaside. Nearby the community a long line of cars was lined up. It was Friday, so many people were staying at home. Next to the water bridges there was a mandatory volleyball court.

Everyone was speaking Sinama, and they greeted me happily. I was frequented with the question if I can sing Jumadin, whose origin is Tabawan. However, I had to disappoint people since it is my friend Luke Schroeder who entertained the audience in Semporna in a karaoke bar a few years ago. Jumadin himself is still missing for a few years after a Philippines-Malaysia crossing at sea.

Many people in Numbak are increasingly integrated into the Malay society, even if some of them are still struggling to get Malaysian citizenship. Many of the inhabitants work in shops, restaurants, and shopping malls in town.

“If we had lived in a houseboat, we would only have to pull up the anchor and leave in case of any unrest”, a Sama Dilaut woman living in a stilt house told me. She was one of the key informants of Sanan. Next to her sat her 14-year-old daughter who had previously worked in a restaurant in town but stopped because she felt insecure on the way home. Now she was missing her daily meals.

During our stay in the village, we also visited several older women who were making traditional abstractly designed mats called “tepo” – one of the specialties of Sama Tabawan. The mats are usually woven of pandanus strips and consist of a patterned upper layer with a plain under layer. They are normally used for sleeping, but they are also used during rituals and praying. In Semporna, I have seen older women Bangau Bangau selling them in the streets.

Later we headed towards MSU for lunch and a meeting with one of Sanen Marshall’s former students. On the way, Sanen stopped at nearby a storehouse belonging to the university and changed to his formal dress.

“We are working on a program in which street children can get training in a learning center”, Sanen explained when we sat in the university cafeteria. “We want to keep them away from the streets”.

Many Sama Dilaut children sell plastic bags in the night market before they return to Pulau Gaya with their families who also make a living from the market. Others live in the streets under bridges.

Sanan Marshall also stated that the Malaysian authorities don’t have a special category for the sea-based Bajau Laut in the Malaysian migratory Act. However, practically, the sea-based Bajau Laut are mostly left alone by the local officials – at least if they hold on to their traditional lifestyle. At an International Conference on Bajau-Sama Communities (ICBC), held in Sabah 2004, the Governor spoke about the Sama Dilaut as “part of Sabah’s cultural mosaic”. In many of the islands, stateless Bajau people live nearby military outposts.

“However, when the Bajau Laut linger too long in town they might be arrested and deported”, Sanen Marshall explained. 

Meeting with New York Times Writer Ben Mauk in Kota Kinabalu

In Kota Kinabalu I also met with the Berlin-based American award-winning writer Ben Mauk who presently writes an anthology about the conditions for stateless and marginalized people in Asia.

We met up at the seashore where we took a boat over to Pulau Gaya – or more specifically the village of Pondo which is generally characterized as a “no-go zone” because it is inhabited by many so called illegal Philippine refugees. As we entered, I was immediately recognized by people who had seen one movie widely shared in social media in which I speak Bajau, and a group of enthusiastic children immediately accompanied us. We stopped nearby the volleyball court where we talked to people about livelihood and statelessness.

“For men it is risky to be in town, it’s easier for the women”, one man said. “But it is very rare that the police come here, unless they suspect drug abuse”.

After the trip to Pondo, we visited a neighboring more integrated community on Pulau Gaya. I talked to a group of women about statelessness, but some of them got upset. “Why do you ask about IC?”, one woman asked suspiciously.

“Kudat is the New Center for Boat Living Sama Dilaut”

The same evening, we had food in the Philippine Night market where we were accompanied by Terence Lim who is a production’s consultant for Scuba Zoo, a Borneo-based film and production agency who has been involved in many productions on Bajau Laut, as for example Sulbin’s world famous stride under water. Terence estimated that the numbers of boat-dwelling Bajau Laut were reducing in Semporna.

“The bigger boats are disappearing in Semporna”, he said. “The problem is that the house boats are costly to build and maintain, and that fishing is getting increasingly difficult”. He concluded that larger, commercially important fish is getting scarce outside the marine protected zones. He also reported that the number of tourists were declining drastically in Semporna due to the ongoing corona outbreak. This was early February.

Terrence told me that he had been facilitating trips to Kudat, that has become one of the new strongholds for Sama Dilaut boat-dwellers. A large Sama Dilaut community has been established on the east side of the Bankawan Island inside the Tun Mustapha Marine Park, which can be seen on satellite photos from Google Earth.

“There are probably more houseboats in Kudat than in Semporna nowadays”, Terence told me.

The same evening I waked through the Night market on my way home. “Ikan baru” (fresh fish), one young Bajau woman told me while I passed by her temporary stand. She didn’t address me in English, but in Malay. “Are you often addressing foreigners in Malay? I asked her”. “I don’t know any English”, she replied. Children immediately came up to me with their plastic bags, happily shouting. “He speaks Bajau!”. “He speaks Bajau!”.      

Davao coastal road – a Four-lined Road Next to Coastal Communities

After my stay in Malaysia, I went on to Davao city in Philippines – the place where I first got in touch with the Sama Dilaut ten years ago. Some things had not changed significantly– most of the inhabitants of around 400 were still making a living from selling secondhand shoes and clothes, and there was still a group of fulltime fishermen (they mostly use the speargun) and freshwater pearl vendors.

However, an extensive road construction project was underway on the seaside. A four-lined coastal road (Davao City Coastal Bypass Road) is being built just outside the community, and the fishermen need to take their boats through a tunnel below the road to get to sea. The road construction is part of Duterte’s administration’s “Build, Build, Build” program and aims to strengthen Davao’s economic muscles. As always, the inhabitants were supportive of the political leadership, and only a few criticized the road project that will severely disturb the community life upon completion. The living space has already been reduced and a few houses have been relocated.

During my stay in Davao, I had the opportunity to follow on a fishing trip with a few families I know. For ten years I have followed Issau and his son Noah at sea – and it is impressive to see how Noah has developed over the years. It is clear that it takes a lot of training and hard work to become a full-fledged fisherman, which does not only mean that one should be good at diving and aiming, but also that one should know a wide range of fish and their specific behavior, master a boat, and quickly identify potential dangers. This can only be made possible by at least a decade of knowledge transfer from older to younger, and it is sad to see that the regrowth among the younger ones is a fraction of what it used to be. It is also sad to realize that the younger generation encounters a sea far different from the one their fathers grew up in.

Manila – Shark Fin Soup in the Grand Opera

The last day – before catching my flight back to Sweden – I spent some time in Manila, where I walked down the M. Adriatico street – a Malate street that cuts right through top end night clubs and hotels, and poor areas were many Bajau and other migrants from southern Philippines dwell. Even here I was well-known – people greeted me as “the white guy from Facebook that can speak Sinama”. Here, many Bajau people facilitate the nightlife scene, while others sell jewelry and beg for money. Some of them are Bajau Laut, while others belong to other Sama groups from the Zamboanga region.

At the end of the street a large number of Sama had gathered to prepare the supper meal; cassava, fish, mango and chili. One woman told me that she had family in Semporna and she asked for help to get back there. One Bajau man said that he used to work for Smorgasbord & Bar as a doorman. “It’s own by a Swedish guy”, he told me.

In Manila, testing for corona virus was getting more and more common. One of the earliest fatalities due to the virus outside of China took place here.

During my stay, I also visited Manila Grand Opera Hotel, located in the same building as the former Manila Grand Opera House which closed in the 1970’s. On the walls, they display pictures of early 20th century high society. On the menu, they serve expensive shark fin soup meals for 2000 pesos (approximately 40 USD).

The Bajau Laut are still providers of shark fins and other lucrative marine species throughout the coral triangle. Perhaps debt is the best way to make it continue. The Bajau are paid for future catch. Hence, their equipment, household equipment and petrol is still at sea. In the shape of groupers, mantis shrimps and shark fins. And the interest rate is high. Not only for the Sama Dilaut, also for the sea.

March 27, 2020 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Bajau Laut Documentary by Radio Television Hong Kong relseased in English Version

In mid-March, the English version of Radio Television Hong Kong’s (RTHK) documentary on Bajau Laut has finally been released. In the film, we can follow three different Bajau families in Semporna whose lives have been intertwined in different ways depending on historical and socio-political circumstances. I was a managing supervisor in the production that was recorded in December 2018.

https://youtu.be/pTzWAaXCuZY

March 23, 2020 | Categories: Uncategorized | 1 Comment

”The Only Documentation They Get is from Detention”

In the end of April I visited Semporna where I attended the International Conference on Bajau Sama Maritime Affairs of Southeast Asia (ICONBAJAU2019). During the conference, a number of speakers presented papers on topics such as the ethnography of “urban” Sama Dilaut, the material realm of Sama Dilaut boat-dwellers, initiatives for strengthening the Sinama language, use of ethnoherbals among Bajau of northern Sabah, and much more. The proceedings can be found there: Proceedings of the International Conference on Bajau and Maritime Affairs in Southeast Asia

One of the speakers, Sanen Marshall from University Malaysia Sabah, presented a paper about detention of Sama Dilaut in Kota Kinabalu. A recent problem is that many Sama Dilaut have left the life at sea and started to dwell in cities as beggars and vendors, which put them at risk of detention and deportation. As of today, the Sama Dilaut have a different status than other so-called illegal immigrants from the Philippines, and as long as they stay on the sea and do not involve in illegal fishing (e.g. fish bombing, use of cyanide, targeting of turtles and red-listed shark species, fishing inside marine protected areas) they have not much to fear from migration police. In fact, one of the unofficial ethnic categories used by the Malaysian authorities to classify migrants is “Pala’u”, which is a degenerative term for Sama Dilaut and which literally means “to live on boats”.

Ongoing decline in fish stocks, however, have forced many Sama Dilaut to move into the cities, just as thousands of Sama Dilaut have already done in the Philippines. As city-dwellers, they fail to identify themselves as Pala’u, and therefore hundreds of them have been put in detention camps and eventually deported to Bongao in the Philippines, a place which most of them have no connection to since the majority of them were either born in Malaysia, or left Philippines at an early age. As a consequence, many of them return to Malaysia shortly after deportation, and some of them have been deported two or even three times. In the process, they receive the only documentation they will get in their lifetime: detention papers. 

During detention they can be hold in remote inland camps for up to six months along with members of other ethnic groups, as for example the Tausug. The situation in the camps is difficult, especially for those who don’t get support from the outside. “Many young children don’t learn how to speak inside the camps”, Marshall said.

Are They the Last Generation at Sea?

During the conference, I made a presentation about the future of boat-dwelling among the Sama Dilaut in Semporna. Researchers and journalists have suggested that the boat-dwelling lifestyle is on the verge of disappearance, but I tried to show that boat dwelling have actually had a renaissance in Semporna and that the nomadic lifestyle is still flourishing. I also concluded that the boat-dwelling Sama Dilaut are often better off than their house dwelling kin.

After one of the social anthropologist Harry Nimmo’s re-visit to Tawi-Tawi in 1997, he concluded that there are no more boat-dwellers in the area. In the epilogue of his book Magosaha he wrote:

Their unique boat-dwelling culture is now part of the realm of the mbo’, or ancestors. The loss of that culture is a loss for Tawi-Tawi, the Philippines, Southeast Asia, and ultimately humankind. (Nimmo 2001: 233).

However, the Sama Dilaut culture has thrived in Semporna during the last few decades, and there are still more than 100 houseboats in the region. As a matter of fact, many of the boat-dwelling Sama Dilaut of Tawi-Tawi escaped to Semporna during the clashes between Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) and the Philippine army in the 1970’s, where they have hold on to their nomadic lifestyle. There are also many examples of Sama Dilaut who actually were house dwelling in Tawi-Tawi but who took up the boat living lifestyle in Semporna.

What then are the factors that have contributed to the preservation and even renaissance of the nomadic lifestyle in Semporna? Here comes a number of factors I have identified:

• Lack of national recognition and support. The Sama Dilaut in Malaysia are stateless and get no or very limited support from the government. They can’t access health care or education and have no right to work, which keeps them traditional.
• The Sama Dilaut are stateless but as long as they stay on the sea and in the proximity of islands, they rarely face risk of deportation. As a consequence, they cling on to the life at sea and can hardly look for other means of livelihood.
• The Malaysian authorities do not let everyone settle in the islands around Semporna. Only native Bajau from Semporna with land ownership, traditional Sama Dilaut and a few other migrant groups as for example Sama Laminusa and Tausug who arrived in the 70’s and 80’s, are allowed (or perhaps tolerated) to live in the area. For others it’s is very costly to acquire land ownership or to lease land.
• The traditional lifestyle of the Sama Dilaut plays a crucial role in the advertisement of Semporna: photos of remote Sama Dilaut stilt houses show up on international hotel booking websites, and photo safaris are being organised regularly. The Sama Dilaut community nearby Bodgaya is probably the most well-known “sea gypsy” attraction which alone creates large annual tourism revenues for Semporna. Why would the authorities displace them?
• There is a high level of security in the region. There have been a number of kidnappings of mostly tourists carried out by Philippine militant groups such as the Abu Sayyaf in Semporna during the last decades which has prompted the Malaysian government to increase their military presence. There is also an ongoing land dispute between Malaysia and the successors of the Sulu Sultanate (one of them is the Philippines) regarding the eastern part of Sabah. In 2013, an armed group sent by Jamalul Kiram III, another claimant to the throne of the Sultanate of Sulu, arrived by boat at Lahad Datu claiming the territory. In that standoff, 56 militants along with 6 civilians and 10 Malaysian soldiers were killed. Consequently, the Malaysian military have outposts in many of the islands along the coast, and they patrol the sea regularly. The Sama Dilaut benefit from the military presence as they don’t need to fear piracy, as they did in the Philippines.
• The tourist industry creates incentives to maintain healthy coral reefs. Marine protected areas such as Sipadan National Park and Tun Sakaran Marine Park contribute heavily to the diverse marine life in the area, thus enabling traditional Sama Dilaut fishing practises. It has been estimated that shark diving activities alone create revenues for more than 12 million USD a year 2017 (Vianna etc. 2017). However, some members of all ethnic groups in the islands outside of Semporna do engage in destructive fishing, and there are increased tensions between marine conservationists and local fishermen. If the status of the marine life declines further, more Sama Dilaut may be deported to the Philippines or in other ways prevented from engage in fishing. We must remember, though, that there are many factors contributing to the decline in marine life, such as climate change, ocean acidification, coral bleaching, plastic waste, pollution and large-scale fishing (mainly trawling).
• There are also economic reasons why many Sama Dilaut choose to live on boats. The increased mobility of boat-dwelling makes it possible for the boat living Sama Dilaut to stay longer at sea, as well as to sell fish to a higher price without relying on middlemen and buy commodities to a lower price in town compared to those who stay nearby Semporna or in the islands. For example, Sama Dilaut fishermen from Bangau Bangau must invest a higher price for making daily fishing trips, so called omkos (which apart from gasoline also include drinking water, staples such as rice and cassava, and cigarettes). House-dwelling Sama DIlaut residents in islands as Mabul and Maiga, on the other hand, largely depend on middlemen for selling their catch, and they also have to pay considerably more for petrol as well as for staples and drinking water. In the long run, the economic equation simply makes sense.
• Lastly, we must also consider the physical connection that many boat dwelling Sama Dilaut have to the life at sea, which is also partly backed up by science. According to a study in Current Biology, rocking (as for example the rocking of waves) shortens the time it takes to fall asleep, and also to reach non-REM sleep, which correlates with improved sleep quality (Perrault, etc. 2019). We also know that natural sounds from water and waves increase or concentration and make us more relaxed (Gould van Praag 2017). It is also well-known that grounding contributes to reduced inflammation and increased well-being, and proximity to water or even better – swimming in the ocean – is a strong source of grounding (Oschman 2015). It has also been found that consumption of fish improves sleep quality (St-Onge 2016). Many Sama Dilaut claim that they are strongly interconnected to the sea, and as we have seen there can be physiological reasons to that. Many Sama Dilaut also say that they become land-sick if they stay away from the sea too long.

In Semporna today, there is also a tendency for larger houseboats. The more traditional boats as for example djenging have for long disappeared. The lepa is still used, even though it is more commonly used by Sama Dilaut from Sitangkai. Among the Sama Dilaut from Tawi-Tawi other types of boats, which are not traditional Sama Dilaut boats, are now being used. They are called lansa and motol, of which motol is the largest and which can accommodate up to 20 people. Lansa and motol are typically run by a big diesel engine, good for longer slow-paced trips at sea, and some of the boats are also equipped with smaller gasoline engines for pumping out saltwater from the interior of the boat through a small pipe. A large fully equipped motol can cost up to 50 000 ringgit to construct.

Hence, Semporna is still today a stronghold for Sama Dilaut boat nomadism, and those who live in houseboats are mostly more well-off than other members of their kin. We have to keep in mind, however, that the relative success of many Sama Dilaut boat dwellers correlates with the use of fossil burning engines and higher investments in fishing (as for example large drift nets). Many house dwelling Sama Dilaut say that they would prefer to live in a houseboat – if they could afford it.

Boat dwelling Throughout Sabah

In the presentation “Ethnography of the ‘Urban’ Sama Dilaut: Displacement and Survival”, we were told that there is a small Sama Dilaut community, some of whom live in houseboats in Tun Mustapha Marine Park in Kudat. This means that there is boat dwelling Sama Dilaut in at least four places in Sabah: Kota Kinabalu (Pulau Gaya), Kudak (in the marine park), Lahad Datu (near the city and in nearby islands and, Semporna (near town and in multiple islands).

Poetry Depicting the Traditional life of Sama Dilaut from Bangau Bangau

During the conference, I met the author Zubir Osman, whose mother is Sama Dilaut from Bangau Bangau. In the book “Yang Terhempas Dan Yang Putus” (which roughly “The crashed and the broken”) he describes the hardships of the Sama DIlaut fisherman, who struggles under the fierce sun, not knowing if he will bring back any fish to his family that day. But even if he does, he is still dependent on the middleman, who will profit from his hard work. 

Semporna was Part of Long-Distance Trade Network More than 3 000 Years Ago

Bukit Tengkorak (which literally means “Skull Hill”) is an important archaeological site in Semporna. Here, archaeologists have found large amounts of pottery which is up to 6 000 years old (Chia 2003b) Interestingly, this pottery is very similar to the present pottery tradition in some of the local communities in Semporna. At the site, the archaeologists have also found many remains of shell and fish bones. This has raised questions about the history of the Sama Bajau, since linguistic research has shown that the Sama Bajau originated from a proto-Sama-Bajau speaking people inhabiting the Zamboanga Peninsula at around 800 AD.

At the Bukit Tengkorak Archaeological Heritage site, the archaeologists have also found large amounts of obsidian artefacts used to make small flake tools that are estimated to be between 6400 and 2900 years old. The youngest artefacts have been chemically traced to the Kutau/Bao obsidian sub-source in Talasea, New Britain – north of New Guinea – which means that the obsidian must have been transported 3 500 km, thus representing the longest traded obsidian in the world for this time period (Chia 2003c).

Stephen Chia, Professor at the Centre for Global Archaeological Research, University of Science Malaysia, Penang, who was the leading excavator at Bukit Tengkorak, presented a paper entitled “Archaeological and Historical Perspectives on Sama-Bajau Origin and Culture in Sabah” during the conference in which he raised the idea that Bajau may be direct descendants of the Austronesian language speakers who originated from South China/Taiwan at around 4500 BP and dispersed into Island Southeast Asia. However, even if the lifestyle of the early inhabitants at Bukit Tengkorak somehow reflects the lifestyle of present day Sama Dilaut, if it is difficult to tell how long Sama Bajau been on the sea. Nevertheless, the findings at Bukit Tengkorak show that collecting of shellfish, seafaring and long-distance trade have been of importance for thousands of years – thus reflecting a more maritime oriented past throughout Southeast Asia.

Antarbangsa Dance Festival

In conjunction with the ICONBAJAU 2019 conference there was also a dance competition, called Festival Igal Antarabangsa (FIA2019). The competition was designed as a dance battle between different dance groups from Sabah, performing in three traditional dance styles. The well-known community of Bangau-Bangau (which is largely inhabited by Sama Dilaut from Sitangkai) participated with two teams, of which both went on to the semi-finals vividly supported by their friends and family members in the audience – where they faced each other. In the final a team from Kampung Simunul won over the Bangau Bangau finalist in a spectacular and colourful dance show. One of the teams from Bangau-Bangau – dressed in green and white like the traditional djin (shaman) received price for best costume.

One fascinating fact about the Sama Bajau dance is that their feet movements reflect the smooth wading in shallow water as they gather shellfish. It is also said that the gracile hand movements imitate the movement of fish.

Regatta Lepa Festival – 25^th Silver Jubilee

During my stay in Semporna I also attended the annual Regatta Lepa festival in which the traditional houseboat, the lepa, and the Sama Bajau culture is being highlighted and celebrated. The festival attracts thousands of visitors from all over Sabah, other parts of Borneo, peninsular Malaysia as well as foreign tourists. Big sponsors, as for example Petronas (a Malaysian oil and gas company), supports the event.

Every year, new lepa’s are being constructed around Semporna to participate in the festival in which prices to the finest boats and best “igal-igal” dancing are awarded. The brand-new boats are mostly done by local Bajau Semporna boatbuilders in for example the island of Bom-Bom – where the famous Bajau Kubang once made lepas that were often purchased by Sama Dilaut fishermen from Sitangkai. Many local schools also participate with the making of their own boats.

This year many Sama Dilaut from Bangau Bangaui participated in the festival bringing their own lepas and decorating them with flags, called sambulayang. However, they were not brand new. In total, more than one hundred boats took part in the boat parade around Semporna harbour. During the festival their was also a hand-out of free food by organizers which caused a rush of Sama Dilaut families at the docking station – and that partly explains why they showed up at all. There was also a showcase of traditional Sama food as different kind of bang bang (sweets) and panjam (rice cake).

Final days in Semporna

During the Regatta lepa festival I also met Kirihati and his family who were anchored in the harbour. He told me that they did not participate since they had no flags. He also said that only a few Sama Dilaut of Tawi-Tawi participated in Regatta lepa since they were busy “magosaha” (roaming the seas for making a living).

After the festival I stayed a few days more in Semporna spending some time with Kirihati and his family. He showed me his diesel engine which he has owned for 20 years. He also told me that he had another houseboat under construction and that he had already purchased all the materials and payed 5 000 ringgit to a skilled boat builder who currently was constructing it. In the meantime, Kirihati was fishing the islands, collecting money for another 5 000 ringgit to be payed during the final state of construction. “I will use my old diesel engine in the new boat”, he said proudly.

Kirihati also told me that he and his family use to make weeklong fishing trips in the islands before returning to Semporna. For a one-week trip they normally need 700 ringgit for buying staples, diesel and gasoline. He also promised me that I could follow him on my next visit to Semporna.

Thus, his life went on, searching and harvesting the sea – just as his forefathers have done for generations. They call it magosaha.

Literature

Chia, S. (2003b) Prehistoric Pottery Production and Technology at Bukit Tengkorak, Sabah, Malaysia. Society Journal, 20, 45-64

Chia, S. (2003c). Obsidian sourcing at Bukit Tengkorak, Sabah, Malaysia. In J. Miksic (Ed.), Earthenware in Southeast Asia (pp. 187-200). Singapore: National University Singapore Press.

Gould van Praag, Cassandra D. (2017) Mind-wandering and alterations to default mode network connectivity when listening to naturalistic versus artificial sound. Nature: Scientific Reports volume7, Article number: 45273 (2017) <https://www.nature.com/articles/srep45273>

Nimmo, H. Arlo (2001) Magosaha: An Ehtnography of the Tawi-Tawi Sama Dilaut. Ateneo de Manila University Press, Manila.

Oschman, James L., etc. (2015) The effects of grounding (earthing) on inflammation, the immune response, wound healing, and prevention and treatment of chronic inflammatory and autoimmune diseases. <https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4378297/>

Perrault, Aurore A., etc. (2019) Whole-Night Continuous Rocking Entrains Spontaneous Neural Oscillations with Benefits for Sleep and Memory. Current Biology: VOLUME 29, ISSUE 3, P402-411.E3.

St-Onge, etc. (2016) Effects of Diet on Sleep Quality. Advances in Nutrition: 2016 Sep 15;7(5):938-49 <https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/27633109>

Vianna, Gabriel, etc. (2017) Shark-diving Tourism as a Financing Mechanism for Shark Conservation Strategies in Malaysia. PeerJ Preprints — the Journal of Life and Environmental Sciences. <https://peerj.com/preprints/3481.pdf>

June 5, 2019 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

“Biodiversity and cultural diversity are inexorably linked”

Dr. Kelli Swazey is a cultural anthropologist based in Yogjakarta who researches how religion, spirituality, and politics define society in Indonesia. She was on of the speakers in the “The International Conference on Bajau Sama Maritime Affairs of Southeast Asia” where she presented the short documentary “Our Land is the Sea” about Bajau Laut it Sampela.

Swazey argues that biodiversity and cultural diversity are inexorably linked. In the Ted Talk below she shows how the Bajau nomadic history and their concept of no-border have been dismantled step by step due to governmental policies and prejudice, contributing both to a cultural and ecological crisis. The once nomadic Bajau Laut are today restricted to areas under heavy pressure from climate change, pollution and over-fishing.

May 6, 2019 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Conference on Bajau Laut in Semporna 23-27 April

Between 23-27 April a new international conference on the Bajau Laut will be held in connection with the annual Regatta Lepa Festival in Semporna. The conference will focus on the the re-emergence of maritime customs in a globalized world.

You can find the program here: The International Conference on BajauSama Maritime Affairs of Southeast Asia (ICONBAJAU2019).

April 22, 2019 | Categories: Uncategorized | 2 Comments

The Making of a Documentary in Semporna – a Story of Contradictions

In mid-December I assisted a film crew from Radio Television Hong Kong (RTHK) in the production of a documentary movie about the Bajau Laut in Semporna. During ten busy days we followed three Bajau Laut families in Bodgaya, Mabul and Bangau-Bangau, one boat living family, one family in a stilt house and one more integrated family in Semporna. In the process I got more insights about the life of the Bajau Laut – and its contradictions.

A Stroll in the Morning Fish Market

In the first day of the production we entered the busy fish market early in the morning. Next to a huge pile of shell I met a young Bajau man from Bangau-Bangau who were waiting for fishermen with catches of live fish. Every time a fisherman arrived with a fresh catch, he jumped on to the boat to see what they had caught, and after some time he bought a large grouper for 50 ringgit that he tied to a stick and kept in the water near the pile. “I will wait till afternoon and then I will sell it to Chinese tourists”, he said. “I can get around 100 ringgit for the live grouper”.

At the same time a group of fishermen brought two big dead manta rays to the shoreline. One of the fishermen cut the manta rays in half and handed over them to two young men with wheel barrows. Shortly thereafter the manta rays were put in ice and loaded upon the board of a small van. Everything happened quickly, so I guessed that the bargaining must have taken place on the boat before they hit land. I also noticed that people in the market made no or little notice of the rare manta rays. After some time, I contacted one of the fishermen who had caught the manta rays and asked him about the price. First, he seemed to regret that he had just sold the manta rays, but when he understood that I was not interested in buying them he said that he had sold them for 150 ringgit each, before he hurried away.

One young man in the market told me that red-listed sharks were sometimes also put aside in the same fashion as the manta rays. Silently they are brought to the harbour, being bought by a middleman at sea and quickly hidden inside a van ready to take off for either Tawau or Kota Kinabalau, most likely for transportation out of Borneo. Hence, there is a very efficient logistic system for high-valued sea products – all the way from traditional fishermen to end consumers in finer restaurants in cities such as Singapore and Beijing. Some local Chinese Malaysian middlemen have direct contact with Chinese fish buyers and know how to bring the products out of the country. However, it is not yet illegal to hunt manta rays and some shark species in Semporna even though the butchering of manta rays have annoyed many tourist and conservationists in the area, as mentioned in this article: Tourists appalled by slaughter of shark and manta rays.

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“I Don’t Want to Sell Directly to the Tourists”

The second day in Semporna we headed to Mabul where we settled in a homestay owned by a Malaysian engineer from Kuala Lumpur. Near the homestay I could see approximately 15 anchored houseboats and many Bajau Laut men, women and children who were selling fish and coconuts to Chinese tourists near the island resorts. I jumped into the water and swam between the boats and resorts to interact with the vendors. First, the Bajau Laut first made little notice of me but when they realised that I could speak Sinama one elderly woman started to ask me for money. When I told her that I could hardly have any money in the water, she asked me for my goggles. One older Bajau Laut man got very happy and declared that I was also Bajau Laut, we were “da bangsa”, one people.

“The Chinese tourists have spoiled the market”, the owner of the resort later told me. “Before we could buy a bunch of crabs for 20 ringgit but now they cost the double”. As a matter of fact, many Bajau Laut have specialised in vending to the Chinese tourists and some of them even speak Mandarin. A coconut with straw in Mabul is now being sold for five ringgit. In islands with less tourists they are either given away or sold for only 2-3 ringgit.

The next day we went to the other side of Mabul where we met with a local family that I have known for several years. The family consists of a man from Siasi, Philippines (Sama Musu), and a traditional Bajau Laut woman whose family originally came from Tawi-Tawi. They have five children. We asked them about the history of the Bajau community in Mabul and how they first came there. The man, Noedi, said that there were no resorts on the island when he first came there and that the Bajau community have been forced to resettle a few times since the early 90’s. While we were talking, the film crew used a drone to film the spacious resorts and the cramped Bajau community which is mostly made up by Sama Musu and Bajau Laut. On the other side of the island there is also a big Tausug community. Most of the islands’ residents have no legal documents, and most of them are from the Philippines.

The following two days we followed Noedi spear gun fishing. On the second day Noedi caught a grouper that he kept alive in water, but when we asked him to sell the grouper to some tourists from his boat he refused. “I know many people here, and I will feel embarrassed if I sell it to tourists”, ha said. “I don’t want people to see me doing that”. That was an eye-opener for us. We had seen many men selling fish in the resorts and thought that all Bajau fishermen did so, but Noedi refused. As a matter of fact, Noedi preferred to sell his catch straight to a middleman even if he was likely to get less paid if he did so.

Traditional Healing Ceremony in Bodgaya

On the journey back to Semporna we were accompanied by Noedi and his family, since they wanted to meet their daughter who works in town. While we were looking for the girl, we met a Bajau Laut couple who is related to Noedi’s wife on an anchored houseboat. Quickly, we agreed on following them to Bodgaya the next day along with Noedi’s family who also have relatives there.

In Bodgaya we met up with the couples’ eight children and their in-laws. We also went net fishing nearby Bodgaya with five men on two wooden boats. Two men remained in the boats hitting the water with big sticks while the three others jumped into the water. They surrounded the fish and drove them towards the net. One man also used a speargun for catching larger fish. After some time, the fishermen pulled the nets into the boats. However, the catch was sparse and far from as opulent as some I have witnessed in Sampela where the same method is used. However, the fishing trip was just a showcase and they normally travel far from the community for fishing.

The same evening, we witnessed a traditional healing ceremony performed by a local spiritual leader, a jin, in the village. The daughter of Noedi who had followed us to Bodgaya, suffered from hair loss and was treated by the jin, her uncle. He put the Quran on her stomach and recited holy verses, after which he fell in trance for a few seconds. During these intense seconds he came in contact with the spiritual world and found the reason for her problem: use of veil and the fact that she and her parents had pledged her necklace of gold. The houseboat owner, Kirihati, then made a lively depiction of that Bajau women only use headgear when they collect shell fish under the harsh sun, not in everyday life. After that, the jin gave her a temporary necklace that she would wear until she had retrieved her golden necklace. That night, the girl didn’t use her veil but when we came back to Semporna a few days later she used her scarf again, and the old necklace were nowhere to be seen.

A few days later in Semporna, I met Kirihati and his family once again in the harbor. I noticed that all the children, including Kirihati himself, wore traditional charms that are supposed to protect them against disease and injuries. They invited me to enter the houseboat where I met an elderly man presented to me as Kirihati’s father. While we were talking he took out a pair of nice boots from a shoe box and told me that he was on the way to the mosque for prayer. The whole situation made me puzzled because none in Kirihati’s family had shown any interest of visiting the mosque. However, the old man told me that he had spent many years in the Philippines where he had married his second wife. He was now a practicing Muslim, and he even had a son who was studying in Zamboanga. He was in fact much less traditional than his son.

Boat Living Bajau Laut – are They the Big Economic Players?

After spending some time with Kirihati and his family, I was struck by the great costs of running a big house boat. Under the deck they have a huge diesel engine and beside that they have a smaller gasoline-driven engine used to pump out the water from the boat at night (which also makes a lot of noise). Consequently, some boat living Bajau Laut are the big economical players among the traditional fishermen in Semporna. A large houseboat and a big diesel engine can cost up to 50 000 ringgit, and they will have to pay more for using and maintaining the boat. However, they benefit from being able to move freely and stay longer at sea. Often, they also use smaller, faster boats for long-distance daily fishing trips, which enables them to make even larger catches. Unlike other Bajau Laut they can also sell their catch straight to fish buyers in Semporna instead of relying on middlemen in the islands. They also dry and salt fish which can be kept much longer before being sold.

Hence, if a boat living family keep enough water, cassava, rice, oil and petrol they can stay for weeks on the ocean before returning to Semporna for another round of selling fish for a higher price and buying necessities for a lower price than in the islands. In the longer term, their economic equation simply makes sense.

Police Raid in Kampung Halo and Bangau Bangau

During my last day in Semporna, there was a raid for drug dealers and drug consumers in the communities of Kampung Halo and Bangau Bangau. More than 100 people were arrested and many of them will eventually be deported to Philippines. However, most Bajau Laut I talked to were little concerned by the raids and felt safe. As a matter of fact, the Bajau Laut are less likely to be deported to the Philippines because of their status as stateless. Everyone who is arrested by the migration police will be investigated by the Immigration department, but if you can prove that you are Bajau Laut you will not be deported (unless you have taken drugs, engaged in illegal fishing, etc.). In practice, however, police will seldom bother to scrutinize the Bajau Laut – their boats, their clothes, their dialect and their appearance will be enough for determining their identity.

In this way, the Bajau Laut without identity documents are being kept traditional. This can most clearly be seen in Bangau Bangau which mainly consist of former boat living Bajau Laut from Sitangkai in the Philippines. Here, most of the residents have Malaysian identity cards today and many of them work in town. Some of them do even have their own cars and involve in long-distance fish trading. At the same time there is also a smaller percentage of the community who are not Malaysian citizens and they are much more likely to engage in traditional fishing. Some of them regularly spend days at sea in small “lepa lepa” boats.

The last family we followed in the documentary is a clear example of this. The man, Joy, used to live in a houseboat outside of Maiga during his childhood, but today he is a Malaysian citizen and own his own tourist boat. If he is lucky, he can earn more than 500 ringgit a day bringing mostly Chinese tourists to the islands. At the same time, Joy has relatives in both Bangau Bangau and Maiga who don’t have any legal papers and who face a completely different reality.

After ten days of filming and one week of meeting old friends, I finally left Semporna. The documentary is expected to be released in July in Radio Television Hong Kong (RTHK) and on Youtube. I will share the link with you.

February 5, 2019 | Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment