At dusk, the boats that have been out hunting come together again.
These apparently fragile floating houses are made of wood from the Api tree, and are incredibly
resistant, able to withstand an entire lifetime on the sea.
There is virtually no space in
which to move, so much so that the people have stunted legs. The kitchen is in the stern,
in the middle the bedrooms and the larder, and in the prow the living room.
Though it would seem impossible, an entire family of five members can live on a single boat.
They may have very little living space, but the world that surrounds them is in constant change
and movement, is open and free.
When a child comes into the world, its father throws it into the water to initiate it into
this marine environment. At four years old, the child already knows how to manoeuvre the
leppa, and by the time they are seven they know all the fishing techniques.
They live in such close contact with the sea that when they are born they are given names that describe
the surroundings at the time of their birth.
Here we find names such as ‘bird alighting
on a palm trees that has fallen into the water’, ‘three black clouds in the sky’; or
‘eastern storm with strong winds’.
Like every day, at sunset the children of Torosiaji go to the mosque to receive their
Koran classes.
The Bajau are Muslims, though they also practice animism and shamanism. Islam arrived in Indonesia
at the end of the eighteenth century, introduced by Muslim traders from India.
Nonetheless, they continue to believe in Pangroak Kampoh, the spirits that control their world.
Any happiness or illness is a reflection of their power. That is why it is important to
keep them happy, so they will protect you when the sea grows furious, and will keep
the world in balance.
The day is coming to an end in the calm waters of the gulf of Tomini , it is time for the
Bajau to take their boats alongside the mangrove swamps, where they will be protected.
These nomads of the sea, like the immense majority of traditional communities on this
earth, are facing immense, profound changes.
Little by little, they are disappearing in
silence, and with them centuries of wisdom, forged and practiced over time.
There is a Bajau saying that reads: “ We conserve only what we love, we love only what
we understand, and we understand only what we have been taught.”.