2. BIRTH CEREMONIES
In or about the seventh month of pregnancy (mĕngandong tujoh bulan) a “Bidan”[15] (sage femme) is engaged (mĕnĕmpah), the ceremony being described as follows:—
A copper vessel called chĕrana (which is something like a fruit-dish with a stand or foot to it) is filled with four or five peeled areca-nuts, a small block of gambier, a portion of lime (kapor sa-pĕrkaporan), a “tahil” (sa-tahil) of tobacco, and three or four packets (susun) of betel-leaf, and carried to the Bidan’s house, where it is presented to her with the words, “I wish to engage you for my child” (Ini’ku mahu mĕnĕmpah anak’ku), or words to that effect.[16]
Usually the contents of the chĕrana are enclosed in small brass receptacles, but on such occasions as the present no receptacles are used, the usual accessories of the betel-chewing ceremony being deposited in the chĕrana itself. The Bidan, on receiving the chĕrana, and charming the contents, inverts it, pouring out (di-chorahkan) its contents upon the floor, and taking omens for the coming event from the manner in which they fall.[17] She then commences to chew the betel-leaf, and when she has taken as much as she requires, she generally performs some species of divination (tengo’ dalam pĕtua) in order to ascertain the nature of the child’s horoscope. This object may be achieved in several ways; e.g. by astrological calculations; by casting up (palak or falakiah) the numerical values of the letters of both parents’ names, in accordance with the abjad, or secret cipher alphabet;[18] by observance of a wax taper fixed upon the brim of a jar of water (dian di tĕpi buyong ayer); and by observance of a cup of “betel-leaf water” (ayer sirih).[19]
When the time arrives the Bidan is sent for and escorted to the spot, where she points out the luckiest place in the house for the child to be born. Such a spot must not be under the ends of the slats of the palm-thatch, but between them, the exact spot being discovered by repeatedly dropping the blade of a hatchet or cutlass haft downwards into the ground below the raised floor of the house, until a spot is found wherein it sticks and remains upright. A rattan loop (tali anggas) to enable the patient to raise herself to a sitting posture, is suspended from the rafters over the spot selected,[20] while just exactly beneath it under the floor of the house (which is raised on piles like the old Swiss lake-dwellings) are fastened a bunch of leaves of the prickly pandanus, the “acid” egg-plant,[21] and a lĕkar jantan, which is a kind of rattan stand used for Malay cooking-pots. The leaves of these plants are used because it is thought that their thorns will prick any evil spirit[22] which tries to get at the child from below, whilst the circular cooking-pot stand will act as a noose or snare. Over the patient’s head, and just under the rafters, is spread a casting-net (jala), together with a bunch of leaves of the red dracæna (jĕnjuang or lĕnjuang merah) and the “acid” egg-plant.[23]
A big tray (talam) is now filled with a measure of uncooked husked rice (b’ras sa-gantang), and covered over with a small mat of screw-palm leaves (tikar mĕngkuang). This mat is in turn covered with from three to seven thicknesses of fine Malay sarongs (a sort of broad plaid worn as a skirt), and these latter again are surmounted by a second mat upon which the newly-born infant is to be deposited.
The next process is the purification of mother and child by a ceremony which consists of bathing both in warm water just not hot enough to scald the skin (ayer pĕsam-pĕsam jangan mĕlochak kulit), and in which are leaves of lĕngkuas, halia, kunyit t’rus, kunyit, pandan bau, areca-palm blossom, and the dried leaves (kĕronsong or kĕresek) of the pisang k’lat. This has to be repeated (every?) morning and evening. In most places the new-born infant is, as has been said, laid upon a mat and formally adopted by the father, who breathes into the child’s ear[24] a sort of Muhammadan prayer or formula, which is called bang in the case of a boy, and kamat in the case of a girl. After purification the child is swaddled in a sort of papoose; an inner bandage (barut) is swathed round the child’s waist, and a broad cloth band (kain lampin) is wound round its body from the knees to the breast, after which the outer bandage (kain bĕdong) is wound round the child’s body from the feet to the shoulder, and is worn continually until the child is three or four months old, or, in Malay parlance, until he has learned to crawl (tahu mĕniarap). This contrivance, it is alleged, prevents the child from starting and straining its muscles. Over the child’s mat is suspended a sort of small conical mosquito-net (kain bochok), the upper end of which is generally stitched (di-sĕmat) or pinned on to the top of the parent’s mosquito curtain, and which is intended to protect the child from any stray mosquito or sandfly which may have found its way into the bigger net used by his parents.
Next comes the ceremony of marking the forehead (chonting muka), which is supposed to keep the child from starting and straining itself (jangan tĕrkĕjut tĕrkĕkau), and from convulsions (sawan), and at the same time to preserve it from evil spirits. The following are the directions:—Take chips of wood from the thin end (kapala?) of the threshold, from the steps of the house-ladder, and from the house furniture, together with a coat (kesip) of garlic, a coat of an onion, assafœtida, a rattan cooking-pot stand, and fibre from the “monkey-face” of an unfertile cocoa-nut (tampo’ niyor jantan). Burn all these articles together, collect the ashes, and mix them by means of the fore-finger with a little “betel-water.”
Now repeat the proper charm,[25] dip the finger in the mixture, and mark the centre of the child’s forehead, if a boy with a sign resembling what is called a bench mark
, if a girl with a plain cross +, and at the same time put small daubs on the nose, cheeks, chin, and shoulders. Then mark the mother with a line drawn from breast to breast (pangkah susu) and a daub on the end of the nose (cholek hidong). If you do this properly, a Langat Malay informed me, the Evil One will take mother and child for his own wife and child (who are supposed to be similarly marked) and will consequently refrain from harming them!
In addition to the above, if the child is a girl, her eyebrows are shaved and a curve drawn in their place, extending from the root of the nose to the ear (di-pantiskan bĕntok taji dĕri muka sampei pĕlipis). The mixture used for marking these curves consists of manjakani mixed with milk from the mother’s breast.
Another most curious custom which recalls a parallel custom among North American Indians, is occasionally resorted to for the purpose of altering the shape of the child’s head. When it is considered too long (tĕrlampau panjang), a small tightly-fitting “yam leaf cap” (songko’ daun k’ladi), consisting of seven thicknesses of calladium (yam) leaves is used to compress it. This operation is supposed to shorten the child’s skull, and the person who fits it on to the child’s head uses the words—“Muhammad, short be your head” in the case of a boy, and “Fatimah, short be your head” in the case of a girl.
Now comes the ceremony of administering to the infant what is called the “mouth-opener” (lit. “mouth-splitter,” pĕmb’lah mulut); first, you take a green cocoa-nut (niyor sungkoran), split it in halves (di-b’lah niyor), put a “grain” of salt inside one-half of the shell (di-buboh garam sa-buku), and give it to the child to drink, counting up to seven, and putting it to the child’s mouth at the word seven (lĕtakkan di mulut-nya). Then repeat the ceremony, substituting asam (tamarinds?) for the salt. Finally, take a gold ring, and after rubbing it against the inside of the cocoa-nut (cholek di-dalam niyor), lay it upon the child’s lips, (lĕtakkan di bibir-nya), saying “Bismillah,” etc. Do the same with a silver and amalgam (gold and silver) ring respectively, and the ceremony will be at an end.
I may note, in passing, that it is in allusion to the above ceremony that you will sometimes hear old men say “It’s not the first time I tasted salt, I did so ever since I was first put into my swinging-cot” (aku makan garam dahulu, dĕripada tatkala naik buayan).
Sometimes a little “rock” sugar (gula batu) is added to make the “mouth-opener” more palatable.
From the time when the child is about twenty-four hours old until it is of the age of three months, it is fed with rice boiled in a pot on the fire, “broken” (di-lechek) by means of a short broad cocoa-nut shell spoon (pĕlechek), mixed with a little sugar and squeezed into small receptacles of woven cocoa-nut leaf (kĕtupat).
Later it is taught to feed at the breast (mĕnetek), which continues until it is weaned by the application of bitter aloes (jadam) to the mother’s breasts.
In the rice-jar (buyong b’ras) during this period, a stone, a big iron nail, and a “candle-nut” must be kept, and a spoon (sĕndok) must always be used for putting the rice into the pot before boiling it. Moreover, the mother, when eating or drinking, must always cross her left arm under her breasts (di-ampu susu-nya di lĕngan kiri) leaving the right arm free to bring the food to the mouth.
When the child has been bathed, it is fumigated, and deposited for the first time in a swinging-cot (the Malay substitute for a cradle) which, according to immemorial custom, is formed by a black cloth slung from one of the rafters. To fumigate[26] it you take leaves of the red dracæna (jĕnjuang merah), and wrap them round first with the casing of the charred torch (puntong) used at the severing of the cord (pĕmbuang tali pusat), then with leaves of the t’rong asam (“acid” egg-plant), and tie them round at intervals with a string of shredded tree-bark (tali t’rap). The funnel-shaped bouquet thus formed is suspended above the child’s cot (buayan); a spice-block (batu giling) is deposited inside it, and underneath it are placed the naked blade of a cutlass (parang puting), a cocoa-nut scraper (kukoran), and one of the basket-work stands used for the cooking-pots (lĕkar jantan), which latter is slung round the neck of the cocoa-nut scraper. This last strange contrivance is, I believe, intended as a hint to the evil spirit or vampire which comes to suck the child’s blood, and for whom the trap described above is set underneath the house-floor.
Now get a censer and burn incense in it, adding to the flame, as it burns, rubbish from beneath a deserted house, the deserted nest of a mĕr’bah (dove), and the deserted nest of the “rain-bird” (sarang burong ujan-ujan). When all is ready, rock the cot very gently seven times, then take the spice-block out of the cot and deposit it together with the blade of the cutlass upon the ground, take the child in your arms and fumigate it by moving it thrice round in a circle over the smoke of the censer, counting up to seven as you do so, and swing the child gently towards your left. At the word “seven” call the child’s soul by saying “Cluck, cluck! soul of Muhammad here!”[27] (if it is a boy), or “Cluck, cluck! soul of Fatimah here!” (if it is a girl); deposit the child in the cot and rock it very gently, so that it does not swing farther than the neck of the cocoa-nut scraper extends (sa-panjang kukoran sahaja). After this you may swing it as far as you like, but for at least seven days afterwards, whenever the child is taken out of the cot, the spice-block, or stone-child (anak batu) as it is called, must be deposited in the cot as a substitute for the child (pĕngganti budak).
Once in every four hours the child should be bathed with cold water, in order that it may be kept “cool.” This custom, I was told, is diametrically opposite to that which obtains at Malacca, where the child is bathed as rarely as possible. The custom followed in Selangor is said to prevent the child from getting a sore mouth (guam).
For the first two months or so, whenever the child is bathed, it is rubbed over with a paste obtained by mixing powdered rice with the powder obtained from a red stone called batu kawi. This stone, which is said by some Malays to take its name from the Island of Langkawi, is thought to possess astringent (k’lat) qualities, and is used by Malay women to improve their skin. Before use the paste is fumigated with the smoke of burning eagle-wood, sandal-wood, and incense, after which the liquid, which is said to resemble red ink, is applied to the skin, and then washed off, no doubt, with lime-juice in the ordinary way.
In the cold water which is used for bathing the child are deposited a big iron nail (as a “symbol of iron”), “candle-nuts” and cockle-shells (kulit k’rang), to which some Malays add a kind of parasite called si bĕr’nas (i.e. Well-Filled Out, a word applied to children who are fat, instead of the word gĕmok, which is considered unlucky) and another parasite called sadingin or si dingin, the “Cold” one.
After bathing, the Bidan should perform the ceremony called sĕmbor sirih, which consists in the ejecting of betel-leaf (mixed with other ingredients) out of her mouth on to the pit of the child’s stomach, the ingredients being pounded leaves of the bunglei, chĕkor, and jĕrangau, and chips of brazil-wood, ebony, and sugar-palm twigs (sĕgar kabong); to these are sometimes added small portions of the “Rough” bamboo (buluh kasap), of the bĕmban balu, and of the leaf-cases of the areca-palm (either upih b’lah batang or upih sarong).
The child is generally named within the first week, but I have not yet heard of any special ceremony connected with the naming, though it is most probably considered as a religious act. The name is evidently considered of some importance, for if the child happens to get ill directly after the naming, it is sometimes re-adopted (temporarily) by a third party, who gives it a different name. When this happens a species of bracelets and anklets made of black cloth are put upon the child’s wrists and ankles, the ceremony being called tumpang sayang.
A few days later the child’s head is shaved, and his nails cut for the first time. For the former process a red lather is manufactured from fine rice-flour mixed with gambier, lime, and betel-leaf. Some people have the child’s head shaved clean, others leave the central lock (jambul). In either case the remains of the red lather, together with the clippings of hair (and nails?) are received in a rolled-up yam-leaf (daun k’ladi di-ponjut) or cocoa-nut (?), and carried away and deposited at the foot of a shady tree, such as a banana (or a pomegranate?).
Sometimes (as had been done in the case of a Malay bride at whose “tonsure” I assisted[28]), the parents make a vow at a child’s birth that they will give a feast at the tonsure of its hair, just before its marriage, provided the child grows up in safety.
Occasionally the ceremony of shaving the child’s head takes place on the 44th day after birth, the ceremony being called balik juru. A small sum, such as $2.00 or $3.00, is also sometimes presented to a pilgrim to carry clippings of the child’s locks to Mecca and cast them into the well Zemzem, such payment being called ’kêkah (ʿakêkah) in the case of a boy, and kĕrban in the case of a girl.[29]
To return to the mother. She is bathed in hot water at 8 o’clock each morning for three days, and from the day of birth (after ablution) she has to undergo the strangest ceremony of all, “ascending the roasting-place” (naik saleian). A kind of rough couch is prepared upon a small platform (saleian), which is about six feet in length, and slopes downwards towards the foot, where it is about two feet above the floor. Beneath this platform a fireplace or hearth (dapor)[30] is constructed, and a “roaring fire” lighted, which is intended to warm the patient to a degree consistent with Malay ideas of what is beneficial! Custom, which is stronger than law, forces the patient to recline upon this couch two or three times in the course of the day, and to remain upon it each time for an hour or two. To such extremes is this practice carried, that “on one occasion a poor woman was brought to the point of death ... and would have died if she had not been rescued by the kind interposition of the Civil Assistant-Surgeon; the excessive excitement caused by the heat was so overpowering that aberration of mind ensued which continued for several months.”[31]
As if this were not enough, one of the heated hearth-stones (batu tungku) is frequently wrapped up in a piece of flannel or old rags, applied to the patient’s stomach so as to “roast” her still more effectually. This “roasting” custom is said to continue for the whole of the forty-four days of uncleanness. During this period there are many birth-taboos (pantang bĕranak) applying to food, the following articles being usually forbidden: (1) things which have (from the Malay point of view) a lowering effect on the constitution (sagala yang sĕjuk-sĕjuk), e.g. fruits, with some exceptions, and vegetables; (2) things which have a heating effect on the blood (sagala yang bisa-bisa), e.g. the fish called pari (skate), the Prickly Fish (ikan duri), and the sĕmbilang (a kind of mudfish with poisonous spines on both sides and back), and all fresh-water fish; (3) all things which have an irritating effect on the skin (sagala yang gatal-gatal), e.g. the fish called tĕnggiri, and tĕrubok, shell-fish, and the egg-plant or Brinjal, while the fish called kurau, g’lama, sĕnahong, parang-parang may be eaten, so long as they are well salted; (4) things which are supposed to cause faintness (sagala yang bĕntan-bĕntan), or swooning (pengsan), such, for instance, as uncooked cocoa-nut pulp, gourds and cucumbers; (5) sugar (with the exception of cocoa-nut sugar), cocoa-nuts, and chillies.[32]
The following description of birth-taboos in Pahang, taken from Mr. H. Clifford’s Studies in Brown Humanity, will give a good general idea of this part of the subject:—
“When Umat has placed the sîrih leaves he has done all he can for Sĕlĕma, and he resigns himself to endure the anxiety of the next few months with the patience of which he has so much command. The pantang bĕr-ânak, or birth-taboos, hem a husband in almost as rigidly as they do his wife, and Umat, who is as superstitious as are all the Malays of the lower classes, is filled with fear lest he should unwittingly transgress any law, the breach of which might cost Sĕlĕma her life. He no longer shaves his head periodically, as he loves to do, for a naked scalp is very cool and comfortable; he does not even cut his hair, and a thick black shock stands five inches high upon his head, and tumbles raggedly about his neck and ears. Sĕlĕma is his first wife, and never before has she borne children, wherefore no hair of her husband’s must be trimmed until her days are accomplished. Umat will not kill the fowls for the cook now, nor even drive a stray dog from the compound with violence, lest he should chance to maim it, for he must shed no blood, and must do no hurt to any living thing during all this time. One day he is sent on an errand up-river and is absent until the third day. On inquiry it appears that he passed the night in a friend’s house, and on the morrow found that the wife of his host was shortly expecting to become a mother. Therefore he had to remain at least two nights in the village. Why? Because if he failed to do so, Sĕlĕma would die. Why would she die? God alone knows, but such is the teaching of the men of old, the wise ones of ancient days. But Umat’s chief privation is that he is forbidden to sit in the doorway of his house. To understand what this means to a Malay, you must realise that the seat in the doorway, at the head of the stair-ladder that reaches to the ground, is to him much what the fireside is to the English peasant. It is here that he sits and looks out patiently at life, as the European gazes into the heart of the fire. It is here that his neighbours come to gossip with him, and it is in the doorway of his own or his friend’s house that the echo of the world is borne to his ears. But, while Sĕlĕma is ill, Umat may not block the doorway, or dreadful consequences will ensue, and though he appreciates this and makes the sacrifice readily for his wife’s sake, it takes much of the comfort out of his life.
“Sĕlĕma, meanwhile, has to be equally circumspect. She bridles her woman’s tongue resolutely, and no word in disparagement of man or beast passes her lips during all these months, for she has no desire to see the qualities she dislikes reproduced in the child. She is often tired to death and faint and ill before her hour draws nigh, but none the less she will not lie upon her mat during the daytime lest her heavy eyes should close in sleep, since her child would surely fall a prey to evil spirits were she to do so. Therefore she fights on to the dusk, and Umat does all he can to comfort her and to lighten her sufferings by constant tenderness and care.”[33]
The medicine (sambaran bara), used by the mother after her confinement, consists of the ashes of a burnt cocoa-nut shell pounded and mixed with a pinch of black pepper (lada hitam sa-jimput), a root of garlic (bawang puteh sa-labuh), and enough vinegar to make the mixture liquid. This potion is drunk for three consecutive mornings. A bandage is swathed about her waist, and she is treated with a cosmetic (bĕdak) manufactured from tĕmu kuning, which is pounded small (and mixed as before with garlic, black pepper, and vinegar), and applied every morning and evening for the first three days. During the next three days a new cosmetic (bĕdak kunyit t’rus) is applied, the ingredients being kunyit t’rus pounded and mixed in the same way as the cosmetic just described.
At the same time the patient is given a potion made from the ash of burnt durian skins (abu kulit durian), mixed as before with vinegar; the fruit-stalk, or “spire,” of a cocoa-nut palm (manggar niyor) being substituted if the durian skin is not obtainable.
A poultice (ubat pupok) is also applied to the patient’s forehead, after the early bathing, during the “forty-four days” of her retirement; it consists of leaves of the tahi babi, jintan hitam, and garlic, pounded and mixed as usual with vinegar.
After three days an extraordinary mixture, called in Selangor the “Hundred Herbs” (rĕmpah ’ratus), but in Malacca merely “Pot-herbs” (rĕmpah p’riok), is concocted from all kinds of herbs, roots, and spices. The ingredients are put into a large vessel of water and left to soak, a portion of the liquor being strained off and given to the patient as a potion every morning for about ten days. Similar ingredients boiled in a large pot, which is kept hot by being hermetically sealed (di-gĕtang), and by having live embers placed underneath it from time to time, furnish the regular beverage of the patient up to the time of her purification. After the first fortnight, however, the lees are extracted from the vessel and used to compose a poultice which is applied to the patient’s waist, a set of fresh ingredients replacing the old ones.[34] It is sold for fifty cents a jar.
On the forty-fourth day the raised platform or roasting-place (saleian) is taken down and the ceremony called Floor-washing (basoh lantei) takes place, the whole house being thoroughly washed and cleaned. The floor having been smeared with rice-cosmetic (bĕdak) (such as the Malays use for the bathing ceremony), it is well scratched by the claws of a fowl, which is caught (and washed) for the purpose, and then held over the floor and forced to do the scratching required of it. The cosmetic is then removed (di-langir) by means of lime-juice (again as in the bathing ceremony) and the hearth-fire is changed. The Bidan now receives her pay, usually getting in cash for the eldest child $4.40 (in some places $5.40), for the second, $3.40, the third, $2.40, and for the fourth, and all subsequent children, $1.40; unless she is hastily summoned (bidan tarek) and no engagement (mĕnĕmpah) has been made, in which case she may demand half a bhara ($11). Besides this somewhat meagre remuneration, however, she receives from the well-to-do (at the floor-washing ceremony) such presents as cast-off clothes (kain bĕkas tuboh), a bowl of saffron rice, a bowl of the rice-cosmetic and limes (bĕdak limau), and a platter of betel-leaf, with accessories (chĕrana sirih). Though the remuneration may appear small, it was, nevertheless, sure; as in former days an unwritten law allowed her to take the child and “cry it for sale” (di-jaja) round the country, should her fee remain unpaid.
Before concluding the present subject it will be necessary to describe certain specific injunctions and taboos which form an important part of the vast body of Malay customs which centre specially round the birth of children.
Before the child is born the father has to be more than usually circumspect with regard to what he does, as any untoward act on his part would assuredly have a prejudicial effect on the child, and cause a birth-mark or even actual deformity, any such affection being called kĕnan. In a case which came to my notice the son was born with only a thumb, forefinger, and little finger on the left hand, and a great toe on the left foot, the rest of the fingers and toes on the left side being wanting. This, I was told, was due to the fact that the father violated this taboo by going to the fishing-stakes one day and killing a crab by chopping at it with a cutlass.
In former days during this period it was “taboo” (pantang) for the father to cut the throat of a buffalo or even of a fowl; or, in fact, to take the life of any animal whatever—a trace no doubt of Indian influences. A Malay told me once that his son, soon after birth, was afflicted with a great obstruction of breathing, but that when the medicine-man (Pawang) declared (after “diagnosing” the case) that the child was suffering from a “fish-affection” (kĕnan ikan), he remembered that he had knocked on the head an extraordinary number of fish which he had caught on the very day that his son was born. He therefore, by the advice of the medicine-man, gave the child a potion made from pounded fish bones, and an immediate and permanent recovery was the result.
Such affections as those described are classified by the Malays according to the kind of influence which is supposed to have produced them. Thus the unoffending victim may be either fish-struck (kĕnan ikan), as described above, ape-struck (kĕnan b’rok), dog-struck (kĕnan anjing), crab-struck (kĕnan kĕtam), and so forth, it being maintained that in every case the child either displays some physical deformity, causing a resemblance to the animal by which it was affected, or else (and more commonly) unconsciously imitates its actions or its “voice.”
Another interesting custom was that the father was stringently forbidden to cut his hair until after the birth of the child.
The following passage bearing on the subject is taken from Sir W. E. Maxwell’s article on the “Folklore of the Malays”:[35]—
“In selecting timber for the uprights of a Malay house care must be taken to reject any log which is indented by the pressure of any parasitic creeper which may have wound round it when it was a living tree. A log so marked, if used in building a house, will exercise an unfavourable influence in childbirth, protracting delivery and endangering the lives of mother and child. Many precautions must be taken to guard against evil influence of a similar kind, when one of the inmates of a house is expecting to become a mother. No one may ‘divide the house’ (bĕlah rumah), that is, go in at the front door and out at the back, or vice versâ, nor may any guest or stranger be entertained in the house for one night only; he must be detained for a second night to complete an even period. If an eclipse occurs, the woman on whose account these observances are necessary must be taken into the pĕnangga (kitchen), and placed beneath the shelf or platform (para) on which the domestic utensils are kept. A spoon is put into her hand. If these precautions are not taken, the child when born will be deformed.”
Sir W. E. Maxwell in the above is speaking of Perak Malays. The passage just quoted applies to a great extent to Selangor, but with a few discrepancies. Thus a house-post indented by a creeper is generally avoided in Selangor for a different reason, viz. that it is supposed to bring snakes into the house.
“Dividing the house,” however, is generally considered an important birth-taboo in Selangor, the threatened penalty for its non-observance being averted by compelling the guilty party to submit to the unpleasant ceremony called sĕmbor ayer, a member of the family being required to eject (sĕmbor) a mouthful of water upon the small of the culprit’s back.
In Selangor, again, a guest must stay three nights (not two) in the house, his departure on the first or second night being called “Insulting the Night” (mĕnjolok malam). To avert the evil consequences of such an act, fumigation (rabun-rabun) is resorted to, the “recipe” for it running as follows:—“Take assafœtida, sulphur, kunyit t’rus (an evil-smelling root), onion skins, dried areca-nut husk, lemon-grass leaves, and an old mat or cloth, burn them, and leave the ashes for about an hour at sunset on the floor of the passage in front of the door.” That a sensible and self-respecting “demon” should avoid a house where such an unconscionable odour is raised is not in the least surprising!
In the event of an eclipse the customs of the two sister States appear to be nearly identical; the only difference being that in Selangor the woman is placed in the doorway (in the moonlight as far as possible), and is furnished with the basket-work stand of a cooking pot, as well as a wooden rice-spoon, the former as a trap to catch any unwary demon who may be so foolish as to put his head “into the noose,” and the latter as a weapon of offence, it being supposed that “the rattan binding of the spoon (which must, of course, be of the orthodox Malay pattern) will unwind itself and entangle the assailant” in the case of any real danger. Finally, the Bidan must be present to “massage” the woman, and repeat the necessary charms.
From the following passage it would appear that the corresponding Pahang custom does not materially differ from that of Perak and Selangor:—
“But during the period that the Moon’s fate hung in the balance, Sĕlĕma has suffered many things. She has been seated motionless in the fireplace under the tray-like shelf, which hangs from the low rafters, trembling with terror of—she knows not what. The little basket-work stand, on which the hot rice-pot is wont to rest, is worn on her head as a cap, and in her girdle the long wooden rice-spoon is stuck dagger-wise. Neither she nor Umat know why these things are done, but they never dream of questioning their necessity. It is the custom. The men of olden days have decreed that women with child should do these things when the Moon is in trouble, and the consequences of neglect are too terrible to be risked; so Sĕlĕma and Umat act according to their simple faith.”[36]