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Jarai (Elephant passage in the Vietnam’s giungle) - 1992

Jarai (Elephant passage in the Vietnam’s giungle) - 1992

Jacek Pałkiewicz
2006-06-17 16:24:12

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remembers that she got married when the bombs were falling from the sky. I smile and take pictures.

Our Suan, a girl of unusual grace and beauty, a third year student at the University in Hanoi, shakes her head and in broken Russian expresses her unbelief. She has discovered something about her country that she did not know. From time to time she asks a question but the only answer she gets is a smile and a nod of the head: it is clear that the hostess does not understand.

I would have never thought that I would find in Vietnam, on the threshold of the year 2 000, some ethnic groups that are still living in such a primitive way. The hunters still use the same crossbows and poisoned arrows as their ancestors, the fishermen use the same nets and traps. With few exceptions, the forest provides all that is needed, wood, game, fruit. Even the bark of trees can be woven and we are using it as a cloth to put on our elephants' back.

On the next day we are invited to participate in a bloody ceremony, the sacrifice of a water buffalo. Already at dawn one can feel the solemnity of the feast. The day is bright, with a cobalt blue sky. On a clearing in the center of the village a water buffalo is tied to some sturdy bamboo poles in the midst of a macabre concert of screams, drums, and sacred gongs. The animal, spooked, tries in vain to free himself. Then music and screams cease and the buffalo waits, with flared nostrils: the air is thick with the presence of death. Two men, with sharp knives cut the tendons of his back legs. With a long wail the poor animal collapses. At this point he is pierced several times by spears, but not in his vital organs. The crowd breaks out in collective hysterics while the victim dies an agonizing death. It is a big day: the more the animal suffers, the further the evil spirits will be driven away. The feast ends with a lavish banquet, two steps away from the victim's blood.

The life of the Jarai is divided in two stages. For ten months they work in rice paddies, or in corn fields. They also grow sweet potatoes, cereals, manioca, tobacco. During the other two months they take care of building and repairing their huts, and they make pots, baskets, canoes. This is also the time when

marriages are celebrated. From time to time the men go hunting and come back with a deer.

I ask about tiger hunting and I am told that a few years ago, a tiger killed a little girl who was gathering fire wood. But men usually do not go out of their way to hunt tigers.

We leave the next day. At night we rest next to a bonfire, lying on hammocks among the bamboo trees. The full moon seems enormous. Here we are, away from everything, among insects and poisonous snakes. But all these things mean nothing compared to the magnificence of nature.

While crickets chirp, Kuang, an Hanoi clerk, reminds us that the Vietnam jungle was the scene of bloody battles during the war. When he was a boy, 27 years ago, he was involved in the attack against the Pleiku American base, where 8 American soldiers and at least 2,000 Vietnamese soldiers were killed. It was the beginning of the United States' involvement in a war that lasted ten years.

Our adventure is just about finished and we take leave of our friends, including the elephants, our indispensable giant companions, with whom we have shared unforgettable days in the spirit of the great explorations of other times.