DO traditions and legacies have to fade away with the passing of the last bastion of the practising elders?

Being a member of the Dayak community – Bidayuh, to be exact, it has been increasingly difficult to connect myself with my ethnic roots.

Take for instance my emotional connection with Gawai celebration – the mother of all Bidayuh (and of the whole Dayak community) cultural festivities. Like many others of my generation, all I have are faint and sketchy memories of days when Gawai was a season of great exhilaration. Traditions of old were still vibrantly manifested in many forms – rituals, language, etiquette, food, music and attire. But it seems that, it’s all I’ve got – just memories.

There was a real free flow (or even overflows) of the ‘tuak’ (rice wine) and endless supply of ‘pogang’ (rice in bamboo). It was not difficult to catch sight of high priestesses and priests and, maidens and young men adorned in attractive traditional costumes walking in the village square during the festive season as they went about preparing for the special rituals and related events. Today, one would be lucky to be able to come across such sights in the village. You would have to do some groundwork first to get information on such events and to make sure you would be at the right place at the right time.

In the village where I come from in Bau district (and many others around, I’m sure), it has become some kind of a novelty to even see women in traditional attire. As a child I remembered seeing my late grandmother and at least a few other women walking about the village in traditional attire like the ‘sepiah’ or headgear, not just on festive occasions but on regular days. Every year without fail du-ring Gawai, I would fall asleep to the ‘lullaby’ of ancient chants by my high priestess grandmother and her crony of well-rehearsed priest-esses sitting on what I thought was a majestic looking swing.

Lately, even the beating of gongs doesn’t sound quite right or doesn’t sound as good as it used to. In reality show American Idol’s lingo, it’s what is readily described as being ‘pitchy’.

What’s even sadder is that, not every household is capable of making its own lemang any more as the older women could not cope with the task and the younger women mostly never mastered the skill. It is either that or people would just prefer to order or buy them from “suppliers”. It’s sad really, as the preparatory activities for such a family and community oriented event is a major part of the whole enriching experience. Even the once ubiquitous ‘tuak’ also seems to make selective appearances.

It’s not surprising that I’m not excited about Gawai this year – actually, I’ve not been so for many years now. I just don’t know what’s in it for me any more. Holding open house and serving ‘kek lapis’ from the big city bakeries, and coca-cola while watching HBO movies on Astro? There’s just no Gawai buzz around in my hometown that used to be there this time of year. Could the rising prices of commodities be the reason? Possibly, but I don’t think it’s such a drain.

As a last ditch effort to salvage any Gawai optimism that might still exist in me, I made calls to the various local tourism authorities and the district office to find out what’s brewing in my hometown villages - where the festival is concerned. I was told that there’s no such information compiled. I’m thinking, maybe I should just spend the long weekend in KL.

I sincerely hope though, that mine is an isolated case. I hope fellow Bidayuh or Dayak for that matter still see something or much more in Gawai that’s worth celebrating. It’s not June yet, so hopefully I would be proven wrong about expecting a ‘pitchy’ Gawai in Bau this year. I’m optimistic that somewhere, perhaps in Singghai, there’s something cooking.

I hope that it’s not too late for us to re-instate the regal status of our deep-rooted legacy in the minds and conscience of today’s younger generations. We need to be more inventive in the way we preserve and present the values of our tradi-tional cultures. Iconic presenta-tions inspired by the intrinsic essence of our traditions could be created to appeal to the conscience and sentiments of today’s society.

It is hoped that despite the onslaught of the changing times, we would strive to keep Gawai and all other traditional cultural lega-cies of Sarawak alive and vibrant.

In the spirit of the courageous Iban war cry we say ‘Agik Idup, Agik Ngelaban!’

Rosalind Yang M. works with AZAM.

3rd Voice is a regular feature initiated by AZAM and Sarawak Development Institute. Feedback can be sent to paulina@azam.org.my