LOVE SONGS OF LOLOBATA

MONSTERS AND STRANGERS

Some time after Baba was buried, the state of our village was no longer peaceful. The iron monsters came flattening the forest area near our fields. Some villagers who still want peace with nature choose to avoid by finding a new place to live in the forest far enough from our village. After losing my youngest brother who was born prematurely, mama was asked to be the third wife of the father of the village head and moved to his new house near the mouth of the river. I know mama helplessly refused the proposal. There's no other choice. Mama thought we women couldn't live in three of our huts by the river and in the wilderness. Especially with the presence of foreigners who carry large vehicles that have long iron hands that at all times move dredge and transport land and stone. The huge vehicle was like a huge and terrifying monster. His voice was noisy, not as beautiful as the bird song we used to hear every morning.

The foreigners took over our farm with a mining concession license from the central government. I don't know who the central government is. Remote villagers like us only know the village head father as a leader. While foreigners always try to convince us that the leadership hierarchy of the rulers of the earth is layered. The central government is in a much higher hierarchy than the village head. The status of the village head is the leader in the lowest hierarchy.

Men play an important role in a family. It is too dangerous to live without a male figure who protects and protects the family. Opinions

mama's not wrong, but I don't agree with that thought. I just have to prove myself that I can.

Even so I understand and appreciate the decision of mama to marry the village head father. Being a widow is not easy for a beautiful woman

mamma. My mom needs a protector. Since Baba died, many men have come to flirt and ask her to be a wife. Sometimes their attitude makes us feel bad. By deciding to marry the father of the village head, no one else dared to disturb the mother, as well as her daughters.

As long as you know, my mother never lost her beauty despite having given birth to several children. Like a vampire mama can't age

time has been spinning for so long. Mama married Baba at the early age of a dozen. He is kembang kampung. Besides baba, there are many

love it and compete hard to get it. It is said that my mother is still a descendant of the Lingon tribe who has physical characteristics like the Caucasoid race. Curly hair, white skin, sharp nose and retina eyes grayish. The atmosphere is a little different from most villagers. Her beauty

it has been shining since I married Baba. Surely why

because Baba gave him a lot of love and taught him to live clean. Baba taught us to bathe in the river by using leaves from vines like betel which when rubbed into the skin produce a fine foam

sort soap. Cling. The efficacy of that natural soap makes our skin bright, healthy and visible

brighter than the skin of other villagers.

My mother is classified as a woman who likes to clean herself and routinely stretch her body with turmeric and rice ingredients grown by baba in the garden

behind our house. Mom also covered her face with honey. Other than the story about the Lingon tribe, that's what I believe makes my mama look more beautiful than any other woman in our village.

Now, after more than 3 years of abandoning us, there are only a few families left in our village. The longer the forest area

what the foreigners opened was growing. Not only the fields claimed to belong to them, but most of the forest land.

Some people in uniform once went to see us saying that our residence also entered into their concession area. They have obtained permission from the state. We can what. That piece of paper is not at all in favor of our rights as villagers who have inhabited this region for many years.

“This land includes our company concession area, Miss.” A company staff met me and laid out a concession area plan that I did not understand myself. He explained the boundaries of the territory claimed to belong to the company.

“I was born and raised in this place, Father. Every place in the world belongs to God. We just hitchhiked. Your leadership has controlled dozens

even hundreds of acres of previously wilderness forested wilderness land. Do not be greedy to take our place of residence.”

The man in the tie nodded. Shortly thereafter he took out

envelope and hold it in front of me. “Take, this is mercy money from us!”

I wouldn't touch him. Both hands fold over the chest.

“Sorry, Father. My father and brother are buried here. No matter what father pays, I will not move from this place.” I spoke strongly but still tried to be polite.

“We can help move Miss's family tomb. Accept it! Miss can

first count the number. We can renegotiate if we feel less. For information, with this money Miss can buy a much wider land in the village next door.”

“Sorry. I don't want to move out of my house, Father.”

That guy's gone. The next day someone else would persuade me in a different way for the same purpose, driving me out of my dwelling

these. I still don't budge.

Sometimes I feel sad and alone. Especially since Arfa worked in the mining company. Deya joined his family moving to a new village. Almost all of our villagers have sold their land but are still allowed to stay because our village land is not yet time to be excavated. Arfa himself lives in an employee mess located not far from our village. He occasionally visited me during breaks to pray in the mosque and had lunch with

the foreign menu he brought from the company canteen. Of course his visit was also in order to show off new things that made him feel a more modern person, including the new motorcycle that is now a tool

mobilization outside the village. On holidays, Arfa often goes to the city on his motorcycle to sell resin or agarwood collected

some villagers.

Usually I drive away the quiet by sitting under the walnut tree while humming the shalawat verse of the prophet that once taught baba. If by chance

the green parrot perched on the branch of the walnut tree, I invited him to tell me about the mood and what was settling into my head. Nuri was indeed unable to provide a solution. It only repeats a sentence or a word

pray for guidance from the Almighty.

“The foreigners must be rich indeed, Nur. They had tools and huge vehicles like monsters that could dig and level the ground

quickly.”

“Quick. Fast.”

“You know, Arfa is good at driving big trucks that pass by in the open land. She looks proud.”

“Proudly. Proudly.” The green Nuri repeated my last words. I smile. Her voice sounds funny. Chrysalis, unique and tickling the brain tells the body to release happy hormones. I was always smiling at him.

“Lately the river rice does not grow anymore. The weather is also hotter. Do you think it's because of the effect of the many trees they cut down?”

“Thump. Felling.”

Hihihim …. It turns out that birds are good at finding headlines. I'm more proud of him. His head stumbled to see me smile.

“You rarely stay here. Is it also because of being caught off guard by their existence?”

“They. They.” Nuri stumbled back.

That's how we're friends. Me and the talking green parrot imitate human language. It is a unique friendship.

As the expansion of the mine lands nearer to our hut, the parrot less and less often perched on the walnut tree. I never lost my mind

find ways to entertain yourself. I went to the riverbank to sit staring at the vegetation of the watershed, rocks, fish and water play. Sometimes I go into the woods looking for a tall tree I can climb to put a cloth swing on a sturdy tree trunk.

The swing is the most comfortable place to relax. I can enjoy the whispers

the wind that blows on the leaves and branches of trees. If you are lucky in the tree, you can see a herd of monkeys that wiggle from one tree to another. Not infrequently there are birds passing by flying while squeaking love songs. But the most special of all is the presence of the Angel

Halmahera is a beautiful bird that comes from heaven.

We call the Halmahera bird the wake-wake. It is a medium-sized bird of paradise. Female wakes are brown-olive, smaller in size and have longer tails. His vulture

crowned purple and purple-pale shiny color. The distinctive color of his chest protector

emerald green. The most striking characteristic is the two pairs of long white feathers that come out bending from its wings and the feathers can be upheld or lowered according to the wishes of this bird.

Male wake-wake is good at dancing, flapping

wings and do flying attractions while showing off the beauty of its feathers on

the female bird. His eyes looked lovingly. Duh, how romantic. I

I love to watch her unique dancing. Don't ask how beautiful the dance is. All of life, that's the most beautiful dance ever

i-i see. The event is very rare because it is said that the number of birds endemic to the island of Halmahera is not much. And that beautiful dance was created for love, not an everyday habit. I have often climbed up into the trees

high only 2 times had the opportunity to see the beauty of the Bidadari Halmahera dance. With all my might, I enshrined it in my memory. Unfortunately, although

the romance of this type of bird kebangetan is not a type of monogamous animal.

Thank God I enjoy my simple life happily and gratefully. I have never felt hunger despite having to live alone on the edge of the village bordering the river and the dense forest opposite it.

Rice that grows wild in the river, yam and sago trees have provided nature in

more than enough amount. I also never run out of vegetables that are planted in the garden around the baba heritage house that I always take care of every day.

There's a chicken that I sometimes take eggs for side dishes. Now, I am also good at catching fish in the river and making smoked fish as a food supply. My smoked fish I often distributed to neighbors who later

exchange it for salt purchased in a nearby village tens of kilometers away from our village. Really am. I live my days happily despite living away from the crowds. The foreigners are cruel

to drive me out of this land of birth that I love so much.

#sorry many typo#