Note 3 — DOMESTIC LIFE

The time varies in different villages, but a champo is generally rebuilt every nine years. Almost invariably it falls in ruins before the time is up, but on no account must it be rebuilt till the due period has elapsed. The ceremonies connected with the rebuilding are interesting. The Puthi having announced that the rebuilding will take place in so many days, the boys of the champo collect bamboos, thatching grass, posts, tying-bark and whatever is needed. If a new carved post is required the best carver in the village gets to work on it. Every champo has land belonging to it. With the rice from this land a pig and a big cow are bought. These are killed on the day before the work of rebuilding is begun, and the carcases kept in a little hut specially built by the side of the champo. Next day is the first of five days’ emung,3 which must be kept by the whole village. During these days no one may work in the fields, or weave cloth or make pots or bring into the village meat from a tiger’s kill. If a stranger enters the village he will probably be ill, and he cannot leave it till the five days’ emung are over. On this day the ceremonies begin. The Puthi formally begins the breaking down of the old champo, by pulling a piece of thatch off the roof and throwing it onto the ground. The Puthi’s attendant (Yenga) then removes the oha stones from in front of the humtse tachungo and lays them down a little distance from the champo. The roof is next carefully cut in two lengthways and laid on the ground in such a way that the two halves lean up against one another and form a shelter. Under this the boys of the champo must sleep that night. The posts are pulled out and laid on the ground, the whole building is dismantled and the site cleaned and re-levelled. The work of rebuilding is then begun. This again the Puthi initiates by a formal act. Beginning with the humtse tachungo he digs a little hole with the butt of his spear at the places where the three carved posts are to be set up, and pours or spits a little “rohi madhu” into each hole. The posts are then put up, new ones being substituted for any which may have decayed, and the champo is rebuilt as quickly as possible. Before leaving the work for the night the Puthi places a little ginger sprinkled with “madhu” on two crossed leaves at the foot of the humtse tachungo in order to keep away evil spirits, to whom ginger is particularly obnoxious. Thatching alone is left till next day, which is a day of less work and more play. Everyone feasts and puts on his best clothes, the men wearing full dancing dress. The first bunch of thatch having been put in place by the Puthi, the braves of the village dance, some on the ground and some on the roof of the “morung,” all singing the pangashari, a slow chant in which the war-like deeds of the village in the past are recounted. This song goes on all the time the thatch is being put on. A similar dance on the roof is performed by the Konyaks of Namsang and Tamlu when a “morung” is rebuilt. The thatching being finished the oha stones are replaced by the Yenga at the foot of the humtse tachungo. All the men, led by the Puthi, then slowly dance in a rough column of fours formation round the village, ho-hoing as they go. The chant is called yanungshari. The carcases of the pig and cow are taken out of the little hut in which they have been kept and cut up and distributed to all males, the Puthi receiving as his share half the head of the cow split longitudinally. A feature of this, the second day of the ceremonies, is the dog-killing which takes place. Every champo in the village kills a small dog. That belonging to the champo which is being rebuilt is carefully fattened up beforehand and tied up in front of the Puthi’s house. When the time comes to kill this dog an admiring throng gathers round while the oldest man of the “khel” sits by the dog and gives it a bone to keep it quiet. He then covers it with his cloth. Opposite to him stands the man reputed to be the finest warrior in the “khel,” and the following dialogue takes place. Warrior: “Move away.” Old man: “Will you take care?” Warrior: “I will take care.” Old man: “Do not hurt the dog.” Warrior: “I will kill it quickly.” At these words the old man uncovers the dog and moves aside. The warrior then attempts to split its skull exactly in two with one blow of his dao. When the dog falls about a dozen bucks and boys dance round and round it chanting, “He has killed it, he has killed it.” The head is cut off and brought to the champo, where it is carefully examined to see if it has been well and truly split. If the blow is found to have been a crooked one, the man who killed it is laughed at, told he is no warrior, but a boaster and a wind-bag. The head is then thrown away by the old man who attended at the killing.4 In the evening a mock fight takes place between the young men and women of the village, both married and unmarried. The women pretend to try to push their way into the champo, while the young men keep them out. This mock fight is believed to increase the fertility of the women who take part in it. On the third day the slow dance round the village is repeated while the yanungshari is again sung. Most of the day is spent in feasting and drinking. On the fourth day the dance and chant are again repeated, but very few men put in an appearance, presumably because most of them have bad headaches after two days’ heavy drinking. The chief performers are a few hard-headed bucks and irrepressible small boys. On the fifth day, the last emung day, everyone rests.