When Land became Water:
Tsunami and the Onge of Little Andaman island
by Dr. Vishvajit Pandya

On the morning of 26th December 2004, like many parts of Asia, the island of Little Andamans in the Bay of Bengal experienced an earthquake, measuring 8.9 on the Richter scale followed, after about an hour by 6 to 10 meter high sweeping water waves which together made up the phenomenon of a tsunami. The result was the physical transformation of many small and large islands in the region of Andaman and Nicobar. The context of the tsunami brought new levels of awarenss of the variety of formulations of the actual human experience of the calamity the diversity of responses to it and the complex needs of those afflicted by the magnitude of destruction. Few people knew much about tsunamis, or how it was explained in scientific terms. But for the remaining Negrito Ongee hunter gatherers, indigenous inhabitants of the Little Andaman Islands, tsunami was a phenomenon explained in their unique worldview and understanding of life and death, directly derived from their lived observation of chaos and disorder in nature.

 

Map of Little Andaman island.

The population of Andaman Islanders is made up of of 43 Great Andamanese on Strait Island, 97 Ongees of Little Andaman Island, the 240 Jarawa of South and Middle Andaman Islands, together with about 39 Sentinelese of North Sentinel Island* were all safe and well taken care of in the immediate aftermath of the tsunami. What was remarkable however is that in contrast to non-indigenous settlers, indigenous tribal community of Ongees on the morning of 26th December showed a greater resilience in response to the grave disaster. They have picked up the pieces of life and started rebuilding it without entirely depending on an evidently hard-pressed administration. Soon after the tremors, about 83 Ongees packed up systematically and walked through the forest from Dugong creek for about three hours tothe south-west location of Ramakrishnapuram. Here for a total of eight days they stayed in a shelter set up by the administration where rations, water and medical care was provided. But by 9th of January the Ongees decided to move back into the jungle and set up their own camp-site using minimum of the relief material made available in abundance by the administration. The welfare agency and island administration, nevertheless continued to provide rations and resources on a regular basis to the Ongees in a new location selected by the Ongees themsleves. Within the bounds of the the reserve forest they have set up on their own their new camp site at a location known to them as Tandalu. Instead of waiting for all the relief materials, the Onges have already resumed hunting and fishing and gathering from different parts of the forest.

*All of these groups are in contact with the A&N administration (apart from the Sentinelese who continue to resist and refuse contact with the outside world). 

Post -tsunami camp set up by the Dugong creek Ongees at Tandalu in January 2005.

The Ongees have set up their own residential structures and life seems to be in complete harmony. Of course a stock-pile of resources have been created close by, for them to access when and if required and individuals from the welfare agencies are also standing by in close proximity. For once it is not a situation as it was in Dugong creek where the Ongee were dependent more and more on what could be procured from the administration. The first impression I had on reaching the Tandalu camp-site was that Ongees were happy that they had broken away from the administration imposed and created settlement of Dugong Creek that was now badly damaged. Much of the infra structures including water wells had been drenched in a two feet high sea water accumulation and all the prefabricated houses provided to them had pretty much collapsed by the impact of tsunami. The prefabricated structures provided to the Ongee were neither acceptable, suitable or really used much by the community. In fact the life in the settlement was an embodiment of a system of duality whereby in acordance with seasons, Ongees would move to the interior forest or coastal area and set up traditional residential structures known as korale (single family shelter) or beraley (communal hut).

Dugong Creek settlement structures provided for the Ongees. Photographed in 1998. These structures were completely destroyed by the tsunami.

 

Traditional camp sites as set up by the Ongees near Dugong creek. Photographed in 1983.

 

Historically and culturally, the Ongee hunters and gatherers have never had a sense of settlement. They have inhabited different locations within the space they had to move in at certain times and set up camp. This practice of translocation (Pandya 1990,1991,1993) has always made this culture unusually adept at packing up essentials and moving on in response to seasonal changes and consequent availability of resources.

My association with the Ongees since 1983 had taught me that the time from November to January is the season of mayakangne. According to tradition most of the Ongees would be ready to leave costal camps and move to the interior forest associated with tpig hunting or would be living as turtle hunters at the coast. In spite of this knowledge, conflicting reports about the potential loss of the significant and unique 'primitive tribal groups' and my years of association with the Ongees with whom I had devloped a sense of friendship and emotional bonding made me both anxious and concerned. Throughout the month of January, members of the media and politicians rushing to the islands had spread enough wrong information to add to my confusion. The Defense Minister, for instance, after visiting the islands, said that the "Ongee were safe in Car Nicobar"( The Week January 16th, 2005:42), unaware of the fact that Ongee have never lived anywhere but on Little Andaman about 220 km north of Car Nicobar island. But then, knowledge and awareness of the islands as a Union Territory of India never went beyond a hazy sense of an imagined place to the ordinary Indian. To those slightly more aware, the islands were the site of a colonial penal settlement, metaphorically known as "kala pani", or black waters. In more recent times, the islands figured in news reports for its potential as an exotic tourist destination for those in search of sandy beaches and tropical rain forests. As armies of NGOs and specialists landed on the islands to conduct damage assessments, reports started coming in of how the last few remaining primitive tribals had saved themselves by running up to the high hills because of their ancient wisdom (See BBC news world edition "Tsunami folklore 'saved islanders'" January 20th, 2005).

 I was concerned and curious to know how and why the Andamanese were being depicted as stereotypically dependent on "collective memory" and as having saved themselves by resorting to their "folklore". What was the explanation that the Ongees had? What was that sense that saved them, in contrast to the others (about 350,000) who had settled on the island? 

It has to be admitted, of course, that the destruction and loss experienced in the Nicobar group of islands, south of Little Andaman island was much greater. By January 10th it was confirmed that most of the 'primitive tribal groups' namely the Great Andamanese Jarwas, Ongees, Shompens, and Sentinelese did not suffer any casualties but some of them had to be moved from the reserve territories and relocated on different parts of the islands. While all of this was true what was interesting was the fact that professional anthropologists, amateur observers of culture, social commentators and media professionals who landed on the island along with troops of well intending NGOs could not refrain from invoking the notion of a 'primitive tribal wisdom' that helped the tribals (excluding the Nicobarese) to save themselves from the potential catastrophe. It seemed that they "knew" how to run away to higher levels, observe the peculiar behaviour of birds and Animals and just smell trouble in the air.

On the morning of December 27th, the Ongees of Dugong creek were provided with shelter at a school in a village of R.K. Puram of Little Andaman along with displaced non-tribals. This was a potentially serious problem, as the Ongees were confined to the tribal reserve areas of South Bay and Dugong Creek, an area which is legally off limits to all people without official permits to enter the tribal forest reserve. Understandably, there was a bit of resentment among the non-tribals at the shelters and camps and at the attention and special treatment that was being shown to the Ongees. Some others, however, felt that it was a good political move to host the tribals among them as it would attract attention to them, too. I had the chance to visit the Ongees in the last two weeks of January and find out how my old Ongees friends explained the tsunami and what they planned for the future. Of course, these were more my concerns and not necessarily Ongee questions, but somehow it made sense to find out if 'Our" concerns figured in their world view. This was an aspect I had to explore. My questions drew me once again to the enchanting forests that was the home of the Ongees and now a place that had experienced the wrath of the waves. On January 18th, 2005 I reached the Ongees of Dugong Creek who were by now living not in plastic shelters managed by NGOs but were back in the deep forests about 3 hours walking distance, northwest of Dugong Creek. This is an account of the views that the Ongees shared with me when I presented them with my concerns.

 

Typical tent provided by the authorities to Ongees in an area marked off and guarded within the relief camp. The Ongees had moved out from there by January 9th, 2005.

Totanagey, who is now about sixty plus and known to me since 1983 was delighted to see me in the forest after a lapse of about an year. He responded immediately:

"Why do you get so concerned? Earth tremors are frequent, you should know, you have lived with us long enough in the forest to know that... it is just a thing that happens again and again, its just that on the day when giyangejebey (tsunami) came, the water went away from the land very quickly and like the breathing -in -and -out- of the - body the sea water had to come back very rapidly and in a big way! We saw the water and knew that more land would soon become covered with sea and angry spirits would descend down to hunt us away. But our ancestral spirits would come down to help us if we continued to be together and carried our ancestral bones (ibedangey) with us to ensure assistance from good spirits! See, if the water decreases then it has to come back and claim land, and much in the same way if humans outnumber spirits, then spirits too want to add to their community by bringing death upon humans."

Totanagey in January 2005.

Giyangejebey in the Ongee language is a verb that literally means "solid earth becoming fluid, like the sea-water." The act of heating and melting bees wax (solid) and making it liquid for applying on cane cords, strings or wood is called giyangejebey. What is important for the Ongees is that this solid becoming liquid is not just 'melting' or transformation into liquid but also the liquid becoming solid again. So the word giyangejebey is also applied to the process of bearing or raising a child which in the Ongee world-view is seen as processing a smell into the hard shape of a fetus (solid) which in turn is surrounded by blood (liquid) which eventually solidifies into bones (solid) to become a growing child.

For Ongees it was all about the day when land became water. The geological tremor of 8.9 on richter scale was seen as the "land becoming like the rough rolling surface of the sea" and making the water recede much further than the tide mark and more rapidly. But an earthquake is not an experience that is alien to the natural order. "Earthquakes lololokobey are frequent and essential for the ordering of species in nature: we do not pay great attention to it nor do we pay much heed to the tides - as it is in these moments that the dugongs either run towards the sea to become turtles or run towards the forest to become pigs, as the legends have it!" (Pandya 1993:31-32). In Andamanese culture, earthquakes are associated with creation of dead ancestors crossing over to other world and becoming spirits (Radcliffe-Brown 1922:146-47). The image of rising water levels, as in case of tsunamis, on the other hand have often been referred to in cultural accounts of the islands (Man 1883:98-102, Pandya 1993:63-65, Radcliffe-Brown 1922: 206,344-45) as floods, a kind of disaster associated since mythical times, with the destuction of fire by rising water. The efforts to save fire from being extinguished by water across various tribes exemplify the urgency in these cultures to save fire - long regarded as a substance that creates new zoological and geographical forms, brings order out of disorder and marks the distinguishing feature of human culture. It is in the light of this world-view that signifies order emerging from disorder that Ongees formulate their basic explanatory framework for making sense of the giyangejebey, the phenomenon wherein an enormous surge of water covers the land. It is the persistent belief that order has to emerge out of disorder that signified the continuity of cultural practice. The Ongees pointed out that in the normal course of things, it is mostly by late afternoon that they set out to walk from Dugong Creek after having packed up some ancestral bone amulets known as ibedangey, bows and arrows, some tubers and metal pots in a basket along with smoldering pieces of wet wood. This is a standard collection of things with which the camp mates move from place to place in the course of a normal seasonal cycle. What is important is the fire that is carried along. As the group moves along, some rotten logs are always set on fire so that these leave behind a trail. On the morning of January 26, after having noticed an indication of the giyangejebey phenomena by the rapid change of water level, the Ongees dismantled all the preserved skulls of the hunted pigs and turtles they had accumulated and threw them into the sea and hurled stones while leaving the settlement. The explanation for this action was offered in the following words: "we wanted the spirits to believe that the community was still left behind submerged under the rising water level and provide evidence of what we had hunted. We also hurled stones at the angry spirits so that they remained at the spot looking for those who had hurled stones at them while other spirits continued to shake the earth and throw large boulders at the Sea" (Pandya 1991). 

Schematic representation of Ongee idea of earthquake caused by spirits.

 

What the Ongees were more concerned while residing at the coastal camp at Dugong Creek, in accordance to a culturally prescribed seasonal practice, was the rapid receding of the water line - something that signalled to them that the "ancestral spirits" were really angry and shaking the pillar like a tree trunk on which the sea rests, carrying different bits of land in the shape of islands. In the Ongee world view, as the spirits get angry the wind changes direction and spirits move from sea to forest (September-October) and move from the forest to sea in ( July to August). Angry spirits often throw down huge boulders taken from stars and hurled down or up at the sea. Earthquakes are caused by the impact of the boulders hitting the sea surface and causing a splash. "Just like the stone chucked by a kid into a pool of water, some water rises and a splash is made!" For the Ongees, the giyangejebey is one large splash and the water displaced was caused by the spirits. It happens when the benevolent and malevolent ancestral spirits really get angry among themselves that the Ongees have remain united in support of the benevolent spirits. So, on the morning of December 26th when the water line receded, the Ongees immediately gathered on the shores with their baskets, bows and arrows and hurled stones at the sea and then rapidly left Dugong Creek to move far away from the coast. 

So unlike the settlers the Ongee did not wait to wonder at the earth quake, which to them is a is a normal order of nature, but they did take their cue from the daily observation of water levels. According to most of the non-tribal residents of Little Andamans, the earth quake was experienced around 8 in the morning but the 6 to 9 meter high waves in two spurts came nearly 30 minutes after the tremor. Many lives were lost because they were looking at the damage done by the tremor, oblivious of the killer waves coming behind. The Ongees say that "if the water goes away quickly it will rush back even more and with greater speed as the good spirits want to provide the order to the sea and forest on which their descendent Ongees depend ". What we rely on is installed 'scientific' instruments to record the abnormal tremor but Ongees maintain a record of the normal water level to signal the start of abnormal phenomena - a different way to organize the knowledge and systematize observations.

Some individuals in the new camp have made unusual two-storied shelter , just in case the water and spirits came lback ooking for the Ongees . They would then be tricked since the Ongee would be sleeping much above the ground.

Normal structure of the shelter built by most Ongees in the new camp site.

 

The sequence of events related to the earthquake and tsunami waves are explained by the Ongees as a period of intense import, when malevolent spirits want to cause death in the human community as they feel the urge to produce more members of their own. With the assistance from benevolent ancestral spirits, however, Ongee society reproduces and increases the number of individuals. Such spirits (tomya) protect Ongees from being taken away as dead bodies or killed by the malevolent spirits. Once in a while, when the winds are changing, the two kinds of spirits get into disputes over the issue of imbalance the relative strengths of the Ongee and spirit communities. When angry spirits shake the tree that supports the sea and hurl boulders, they reckon that the Ongees will scatter and suffer accidental death. Such deaths are regarded as gains for the community of negative spirits who are belived to come from Ongees killed accidentally , particularly if their dead bodies are not retrieved for ritual treatment. At such moments, understood by us as geomorphological changes, the Ongees invoke their ancestral spirits and seek their assistance. The community from Dugong Creek pointed out that they succeeded in invoking spirit protection and secured the birth of a child in the community. The community justified its world view by pointing out to me that it was this divine "game of demography and spirit politics" that lead to the birth of a 97th Ongee, a girl, on January 4th, 2005, eight days after the tsunami, in the camp set up for them at R.K. village school compound.

Over the few days of January 2005 I spent with the Ongees, we discussed what the future of settlement should be. For the Ongees, the main concern was re-creating a place in the space where they could move without the imposed idea of a settlement with restrictions on theirmovements. For them, the way to live in the future is based on the cultural notion of when to move and where to move (Pandya 1990). The Ongee would like some kind of assistance but would like to build shelters in their own version of the korale and beraley in accordance to their own architectural elements anbd traditions. They might accept some minor modifications and use new building materials but they do not want the prefabricated structures that were difficult to maintain and have been completely demolished by the tsunami. The administration will in all probability give up the idea of providing a new 'settlement' and let the Ongees design a series of places that are made in accordance with the space they want to live in. A site has been selected by the Ongees that is near Dugong Creek and has fresh water sources.

But there remains a host of unresolved questions. What happens to the destroyed electrical generator that provided some electricity? How far from the Onge camp should be the ration store maintained by the welfare agency? Do the Ongee need the school building? Do they want the coconut plantation placed in their charge by the administration to remain close?

The tsunami has brought destruction to the Onge. But it has also given them the chance to resist the imposed "settlement idea" and to express their own wishes for a life in accordance with their own designs and culture. 

 

The author of this article with a group of Ongee, January 2005.

 

 

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