Maj-Maj/ Wiltja, Owa & Bolim Gar & social patterns in far north Australia & New Guinea
Whilst the majority of primary knowledge of both Aboriginal and Papuan architecture has been piecemealed together from the drawings and writings of early explorations from colonial expeditions prior to colonization, it hasn’t been until more recently when such dwellings have been reframed as vernacular in replacement of primitive. The present study argues that Aboriginal and Papuan shelter construction has predominantly evolved through a response to climate as well as availability and abundance of environmental resources, in turn affecting resultant social patterns and relationship with land amongst each culture.
Through methods of comparison and contrast, the following argument will discuss construction practice as a response to environment (climate and land) as well as social structures and finally, relationship with land, between the Maj-Maj/Wiltja dome structures of northeastern Aboriginal rainforest district of Australia and Owa (common house) and Bolim Gar (ceremonial hut) of the Ekari tribe of Kapauku, Western Highlands, New Guinea. Such structures have been chosen as representations of the selected areas due to the populous of information, as there is generally a paucity of research into vernacular architecture of Australasia.
Architectural construction practice among vernacular and pre-colonial cultures such as the tribal groups of the rainforest district, northeast of Queensland, and the Ekari people of the Western Highlands of New Guinea, relates strongly to the surrounding environment, utilising available resources and protecting inhabitants from climatic extremes.[1]
The pre-colonial rainforest zone of northeast Australia located in the vicinity of modern day Cairns, stretching north to Cape York, comprises of 12 distinct clan groups[2] residing amongst altering ecosystems of coastal and open-woodland, however was covered predominantly with riverine-rainforest.[3]
Whilst the majority of the continent adopted windbreaks as the principal shelter type[4] [5] (Fig. 1), the aboriginal clan groups residing in the rainforest zone stretching 325km along and near the coast[6] employed architecture unique and endemic to the area. Although windbreaks were occasionally utilised, the prevalent type of shelter were dome huts in order to protect inhabitants from inclement weather.[7] Prolonged rainfall during the wet season from December to March, where locals experienced a mean annual rainfall between 1200mm to 4000mm[8] meant that clans became less mobile and were more persuaded to adopt a sedentary or semi-sedentary lifestyle[9] [10], occupying more permanent shelters for months at a time[11].
Northern aboriginal clans followed a local calendar entailing five seasons including the cold southeast wet season, the dry transitional season, the first storms season, the wet season and the second transitional season.[12] Berndt (1974, 41) and Roös (2015, 17) both acknowledge the responsiveness of the aboriginal culture to adapt to the changing climate, adopting more temporary windbreaks during wind seasons, shaded shelters during dry seasons and the aforementioned dome structures during the remainder of the calendar year.
There are at least four types of Maj-Maj[13] (Fig 2: dome structures; also referred to as Wiltjas) recorded, ranging from elliptical to circular in shape[14] depending on the need and number of inhabitants. Dome structures reached up to 9m in diameter, often housing polygynous families of up to 30 members.[15]
The construction process of Maj-Maj shelters is intimately related to the longevity and permanency of occupancy. Locally sourced lawyer cane from Calamus palm[16] [17] covered a skeleton of sticks interwoven and tied to branches with split cane for rigidity to form the structural framework.[18] [19] Depending on availability and closeness of the campsite to resources[20], wild banana palm, fan palm and Melaleuca bark were also employed for thatching and cladding materials, overlapped to ensure warmth.[21] [22] [23] In peak times of storm, cladding was replaced with plaited grass thatching in order to further reinforce the structure. [24] Moreover, irrelevant to the season, dome huts were fashioned in order to withstand the weight of rain during the heaviest of seasons. Memmott (2007, 85) notes that heavy stones were also occasionally utilised in order to anchor the frame at the base of the dome structure during high winds. Design considerations also extended into the formation of small entrance openings that aided in warding off mosquitos during wet weather months. Rainforest dome structures were also uniquely higher than the rest of the continent, so as to facilitate ease of movement and standing, allowing the hut to also be utilised for diurnal gender activities during long periods of occupancy as a result of inclement weather.[25] [26] [27] Consequently, larger base camp (Fig. 3) and communal huts were constructed in order to support the weight of an adult in order to conduct maintenance to the roof thatching after a destructive storm.[28] [29] [30]
The Ekari people, residing in Kapauku in the Western Highlands of New Guinea, are surrounded by tropical forest covering nearly 70% of the island[31]; New Guinea too sees excessive rainfall almost 260 days per annum on average.[32] New Guinea, much like the north of Australia in proximity to the equator, experiences warm temperatures during the daytime, however the Western Highlands encounter rapid night time temperature drops due to the greater elevation.[33] Dissimilar to the astute calculations of the aboriginal five-season calendar, inhabitants of New Guinea acknowledge just two seasons of 6-month periods, the clear sky and afternoons showers of October to March and the cloud and rain of April to September.[34]
Much like aborigine culture of the rainforest zone, inhabitants of the Western highlands of New Guinea require dwellings to shelter from constant rainfall for extended periods of time. Conversely, Kapauku Papuans build dwellings directly on the ground, unlike surrounding cultures of the Central and Southern highlands, where buildings are erected upon pilotis to ensure safety from flooding. Due to the mountainous region and typography of the area, such considerations aren’t factored into construction practice.
The Owa (Fig 5: common house) hut, unlike the Aboriginal Maj-Maj, is rectangular in build (approx. 7m x 5m) with a gabled roof and elevated flooring to shelter farmed animals underneath.[35] In order to build shelters large enough for an extended family as well as supporting the load of a densely thatched roof, a column is erected in the centre of the dwelling.[36] Referred to as a karap or bande in local tongue, this column is said to embody aged or deceased ancestors dousing traditional and spiritual significance on the hut.[37] [38] Whilst the plans and size of the hut may depend largely on the wealth of the family[39], the structure and aesthetic of the Owa remain unchanged between tribal domiciliary groups.
Bamboo poles were wedged into the ground, forming the structural framing[40] to support densely layered Pandanus leave, reed or kunai grass thatched roofing.[41] Similar to the Maj-Maj, the Ekari people utilised locally sourced Hoya vines for tying of the structural elements together.[42]
In addition to the excessive of roof thatching, warmth inside the Owa was created through maintaining the height of the shelter and by reinforcing the interior with cladding from conifer and softwood trees.[43] [44] Similar to the Aboriginal Maj-Maj, the Owa had several small openings, however, unlike the Australian example, the Ekari people thought such design intent could assist in quick escape if threatened by warfare from surrounding tribes.[45]
During the cloud and rain season, Ekari men would hunt in the surrounding area for game animals descending to land in order to forage on ripened berries of the Ficus tree.[46] Much like the aborigine men, who, at the end of the wet season, would become more mobile and regularly disperse from base camp on fishing day trips, both the Ekari and Aborigine clans would experience a gender fluctuation at camp during hunting months.[47] [48]
Comparatively, the clan groups in both examples of northeastern Australia and Kapauku, New Guinea construct common shelter types dependent on the gathering of local resources for structural and cladding elements to ensure thermal performance as well as refuge from sustained periods of rainfall due to local climatic and environmental conditions, albeit with aesthetic variances due to functional differentiations.
Due to the permanency of structures built in both Aborigine and Ekari camps as a result of inclement weather conditions, social interactions on site were considerably communal and closely knit.[49] In the rainforest zone of north Australia, and the rest of the continent alike, kinship relationships are the foundation of social structure.[50] Kin relationships not only stipulate interactions at camp, but also govern diurnal activity groups, sleeping arrangements, sharing policies and marriage arrangements.[51] [52] Furthermore, kinship avoidance relationships, for example between a man and his mother-in-law, also guide the spatial arrangement of shelter at camp. [53] Although campsites contained nearly 20-30 dome structures[54], shelters commonly sat adjacent to one another, creating intimacy amongst nuclear families. [55] Furthermore, Aboriginal clans across the Australian continent chose the location of campsites based on spiritual connectedness with the place of birth inherited through the fathers’ line, again illustrating ideals of “family.”[56]
Oliver (1997, 1075), Eckermann (1999, 3) and Memmott (2007, 84) outline three main domiciliary groups at aborigine campsites, the nuclear family shelter, single men’s shelter and marriageable girl’s shelter. The relation between nuclear families further determined the arrangement and spatial construction of huts, with plural marriages (polygyny) maintained through interconnected clustered domes, housing several wives and children[57]. Such domiciliary groups had a sizeable impact on the diurnal activities of gender groups as sleeping arrangements commonly separated women from men due to the presence of polygyny.[58] [59] [60] Additionally, movement around camp was gender restricted helping to divide activity zones.[61]
Diurnal activities of women generally included gathering of vegetable food and the making of plaited dilly bags and baskets from Panadanus fibre.[62] Conversely, men concentrated on making weapons and tools, as well as hunting during optimal seasons.[63] Besides this apparent gender split at campsite, no evidence of hierarchy between members of the tribe has been recorded, attested in the spatial arrangement of domiciliary groups. In saying this, elders of the tribe were respected above others, as they were believed to be the bearer of sacred histories and knowledge passed down by ancestors, guiding and educating the uninitiated on the preparation of sacred grounds, choosing a site based on the knowledge of weather and abundance of resources and furthermore, how to find underground water with ease.[64] [65] [66] Women and men of the tribe displayed their respect for this generation through supporting elders, as they grew weak and unable to hunt or participate in domiciliary activities. Furthermore, such generational tribe members’ shelters were located on site in the most shaded areas to allow more ideal temperatures in drier months.[67]
The Western mountainous highlands of New Guinea during pre-colonial times was one of the less populous places on the island.[68] The history of New Guinea is synonymous with warfare between neighbouring tribes, restricting travel to a close diameter surrounding camp, amplifying the effects of inclement weather on domestication even further.[69] As a result, and dissimilar to Aboriginal culture, Ekari people chose place of site based on defensibility from attack from surrounding tribes, as well as ease of making day trips for hunting.[70] Moreover, such self-made isolation created larger diversities between tribal groups (i.e. language), initiating a positive feedback loop that further intensified disputes between groups.[71] Conversely, alliances were often made between differing tribes, and although marriage was preferable in the same clan, up to 13 different village clan members could be present at traditional gathering events in the ceremonial Bolim Gar shelters (Fig. 6).[72] Interestingly, research into comparable events in Aboriginal culture suggests rituals were performed largely outdoors rather than in exclusively erected ceremonial huts.[73]
Much like the aboriginal camps of the rainforest district of Northern Australia, Ekari people also divided amongst genders at camp, with men sleeping in common dormitories alongside other married or single men, whilst women separated into single shelters shared by children.[74] [75] Men’s houses centrally located on the highest point of the site facilitated in watching over the tribe, whereby the “big man” (an honour judged by the other men of the tribe based on his wealth, status and fighting ability) would sleep closest to the entryway.[76] Such shelters were also commonly utilised diurnally to discuss social elements, politics and ceremonial arrangements.[77] Whilst women’s’ Owas were built in close proximity to the male dwellings for security,[78] unlike aborigine tribes, the Ekari people did not only participate in a gender split, but also gender inequality. Ekari men, entrusted to house the important artifacts and relics of the tribe,[79] were also privileged to gender specific ceremonial huts (Haus Tambaran) for ritual purposes, excluding women from participation in ceremony and general decision making of the tribe.[80] Furthermore, except during ritualistic pig killings performed in the Bolim Gar ceremonial hut every 10-15 years to establish alliances with neighbouring tribes,[81] the Ekari people seldom interacted in communal dwellings with gender mixes besides sexual conduct.[82]
Whilst the aborigine tribes of the rainforest district generally only utilised domiciliary domes during the night for sleeping, commonly spending the majority of time outdoors, Ekari tribes conversely utilised the Owa hut for diurnal activities.[83] Furthermore, the two cultures also differed in views of privacy, with aborigines actively living in the open eye of the community (except for excretory or sexual occasions), while Ekari members tended to be much more nonpublic in their actions.[84]
Whilst social patterns between the two example clan groups of Australia and New Guinea differ considerably, it is clearly evident that forced domesticated has aided in the formation of diurnal and domiciliary groups, and a result structure and hierarchy within camps.
The word for ‘camp’ is used traditionally throughout Indigenous Australia interchangeably to express elements such as a hearth, country, home, an individual or nuclear family domestic living area or even a social space. With such an analogy the idea of a rich interdependent relationship between land and shelter is introduced. By nature, aborigines are hunter-gatherers, relying on the land for sustenance, shelter and water.[85] [86] [87] The vocabulary of Yidiny, one of the common tongues of clans located amongst the rainforest region of North Australia, reveals a holistic and interconnected relationship with the land. Aborigines make no division between sea and land, whilst also referring to “country” as both occupancy of land and the place of the dreaming.[88] [89] As such, aboriginal tribes worshipped ancestors rather than “gods”, with dreamtime stories becoming the core of their belief system, and ancestors, the spiritual essence of all cultural secrets.[90] [91] Dreaming time refers to the creation period when earth, a living female, gave birth to all living things and life on earth.[92] Consequently, it is evident why aboriginal clans do not believe in ownership of land, building their sites close to areas of spiritual attachment to employ the regenerative qualities of a “womb” like shelter, calling on ancestors to deliver sacredness upon the tribe.[93] As a result, even though aboriginal tribes presented as nomadic dwellers, travel was somewhat restricted by territorial rules due to neighbouring tribes sacred sites.[94]
Reliability of resources, in particular nuts and fruits, meant that inland sedentary camps were able to host large scale gatherings, corroborees and ceremonies, housing travelling aborigines on long hunts.[95] [96] On this occasion, more temporary overnight structures were erected for travelling clan members.[97] Such events led to alliances and development of trade opportunities between inland and coastal tribes.[98] The combination of song, dance and shelter was said in this instance to enrich the campsite with ancestral presence and power.[99]
The Ekari people of the Western Highlands of New Guinea, much like the aborigines of northern Australia have an interconnected relationship with land and agriculture. Evidence of cultivation and crop production amongst New Guinea tribes is said to date back over 9000 years, farming predominantly taro and sweet potato in the Western Highlands.[100] [101] As a result, wild pigs were attracted to the production of agriculture, in particular sago[102], and soon the Ekari people seized the opportunity to develop pig husbandry.[103] Raising pigs as semi-domesticated, allowing the animals to stray free and forage within campgrounds, allowed for non-labour intensive farming, supplying tribes with an unwavering supply of protein during the calendar year.[104] As a result, shelters amongst the camp were spatially dispersed in order to herd pigs for grazing.[105] In Addition to the benefits of farming towards sustenance, pigs were also used for ritual, bridewealth payment, witchcraft and trade with neighbouring tribes.[106] Whilst Pospisil (1960, 188) states that pig husbandry was not used as a means to gain prestige or social status amongst the tribe, he also demonstrates that wealth was established on the success of pig breeding. Live pigs were traded amongst the Ekari clan and the Huli people of the Southern Highlands in exchange for weaponry and oil of the Campnosperma brevipetiolata (body decoration painting oils).[107] [108] Markedly, such trades would occur during pig killing ceremonies, in the ceremonial Bolim Gar with allied tribes, in order to secure prestige among the community and cement trade network relationships.[109]
Domestication and sedentary lifestyle amongst villages of Aborigine rainforest clans and the Ekari people of Western Highlands New Guinea alike were principally shaped through the combination of abundance and reliability of local palatable vegetation as well as prolonged inclement weather. Whilst further isolation was created amongst the Ekari people due to threat of warfare, both tribes unknowingly created a positive feedback loop, whereby domiciliary diurnal activities increasingly surmounted domestication and the ability to survive sustained periods of settlement during undesirable weather. Locally sought materials helped aid warmth and protection during such events. In the case of the Kapauku Papuans, cultivation and agricultural practices help catalyse pig husbandry and as a result increased wealth and success amongst villages. Both the Aborigines and Papuans alike displayed complexed social systems of kinship and sib respectively, as well as common notions of polygyny. Present research suggests that such results could have been created by prolonged domestication and the design layout of camp villages. As aforementioned, limitations to study included a paucity of primary sources due to the natural of chosen subject (pre-colonial). More research into settlement patterns of both Aborigine rainforest clans and Ekari people is needed to elucidate whether historical migration likewise impacted shelter type or social structure.
[1] Paul Oliver [ed.], Encyclopedia of vernacular architecture of the world. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), xxiii.
[2] Richard Cosgrove, “Origin and Development of Australian Aboriginal tropical rainforest culture: a reconsideration,” Antiquity 70, 270 (1996): 903.
[3] Paul Memmott, Gunyah Goondie + Wurley: the Aboriginal Architecture of Australia, (St Lucia: University of Queensland Press, 2007), 86.
[4] "Cultural issues in architectural design of Indigenous custodial facilities," Paul Memmott and Karl Eckermann, (The University of Melbourne Library, 1999, OAlster), 4.
[5] Herbert Basedow, The Australian Aboriginal (Adelaide: The Hassell Press, 1925), 101.
[6] Oliver, Paul, 1069.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ibid., 1074.
[9] Tim O’Rourke, “Aboriginal Camps and Villages’ in Southeast Queensland,” Open 30, 2 (2013): 855.
[10] Basedow, Herbert, 103.
[11] O’Rourke, “Aboriginal Camps,” 855-850.
[12] "Positioning the Traditional Architecture of Aboriginal Australia in a World Theory of Architecture," Paul Memmott, (The University of Melbourne Library, 2005, OAIster), 23.
[13] Memmott, P., 93.
[14] Oliver, P., 1070.
[15] Ibid., 1075.
[16] Ibid.
[17] Catherine Laudine, Aboriginal Environmental Knowledge: Rational Reverence, (Burlington: Ashgate Publishing Company, 2009), 85.
[18] “Traditional Architecture in the Pacific,” Balwant Saini and Alison Moore, (The University of Queensland Library, 2007, School of Architecture Publications), 2.
[19] Memmott, P., 84.
[20] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 8.
[21] Ibid., 100.
[22] Laudine, Catherine, 85.
[23] Basedow, H., 104.
[24] Memmott, P., 85.
[25] Oliver, P., 1075.
[26] Memmott, P., 92.
[27] Laudine, C., 77.
[28] Oliver, P., 1075.
[29] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 8.
[30] Memmott, P., 92.
[31] Oliver, P., 1172.
[32] R. B. Milani, Traditional Architecture of Western Highlands Papua New Guinea, (Lae, Morobe Province: PNG University of Technology Printery, 1998), 3.
[33] Milani, R. B., 3.
[34] James F. Weiner [ed.], Mountain Papuans: Historical and comparative Perspectives from New Guinea Fringe Highland Societies. (USA: The University of Michigan Press, 1988), 12.
[35] Oliver, P., 1181.
[36] Ibid., 1180.
[37] Milani, R. B., 23.
[38] “The Importance of Space in Traditional Papua New Guinea Architecture,” R Manandhar, (The Papau New Guinea University of Technology, 1990, IAPS), 191.
[39] Oliver, P., 1180.
[40] Ibid.
[41] “Traditional Architecture,” Balwant Saini and Alison Moore, 2.
[42] Milani, R. B., 20.
[43] Ibid.
[44] “The Importance of Space,” R Manandhar, 190.
[45] Oliver, P., 1175.
[46] Weiner, James. F [ed.], 113.
[47] Memmott, P., 87.
[48] W.H. Edwards, [ed.]. Traditional Aboriginal Society. (South Yarra: MacMillan Education Australia, 1998), 66.
[49] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 4.
[50] Oliver, P., 1069.
[51] Edwards, W.H. [ed.], 216.
[52] Paul Memmott [ed.]. TAKE 2: Housing Design in Indigenous Australia, (Red Hill, ACT, The Royal Institute of Architects, 2003), 29.
[53] Edwards, W.H. [ed.], 216.
[54] Oliver, P., 1069.
[55] Memmott, P., 89.
[56] Edwards, W.H. [ed.], 65.
[57] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 4.
[58] Ibid., 3.
[59] "Cultural issues," Paul Memmott and Karl Eckermann, 3.
[60] Peter Turbet, The Aborigines of the Sydney District Before 1788, (Kenthurst: Australian Print Group, 1989), 16.
[61] Oliver, P., 1075.
[62] Ronald M Berndt and Catherine H Berndt. The First Australians. (Sydney: Ure Smith, 1974), 41.
[63] Memmott, P., 106.
[64] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 3.
[65] Memmott, P., 108.
[66] Berndt, Ronald. M. and Berndt, Catherine, H., 120.
[67] Memmott, P., 88.
[68] Milani, R. B., 2.
[69] Ibid., 5.
[70] Weiner, James. F [ed.], 10.
[71] “The Importance of Space,” R Manandhar, 190.
[72] Weiner, J. F [ed.], 130.
[73] Memmott, P., 84.
[74] Leopold Pospisil, “The Kapauku Papuans and their Kinship Organization,” Oceania 30, 3 (1960): 188.
[75] Oliver, P., 1175.
[76] Pospisil, “The Kapauku Papuans,” 189.
[77] “The Importance of Space,” R Manandhar, 190.
[78] Ibid., 191.
[79] Ibid., 190.
[80] “Traditional Architecture,” Balwant Saini and Alison Moore, 1.
[81] Ibid.
[82] “The Importance of Space,” R Manandhar, 190.
[83] "Cultural issues," Memmott and Eckermann, 3.
[84] Ibid., 9.
[85] Berndt, Ronald. M. and Berndt, Catherine, H., 42.
[86] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 1.
[87] Cosgrove, “Origin and Development,” 902.
[88] R.M.W. Dixon [ed.], Words of Our Country: Stories, Place Names and Vocabulary in Yidiny, The Aboriginal Language of the Cairns-Yarrabah Region, (St Lucia: University of Queensland Press, 1991), 149-150.
[89] Phillip. B. Roös, "Indigenous Knowledge and Climate Change: Settlement Patterns of the Past to Adaptation of the Future," International Journal Of Climate Change: Impacts & Responses 7, 1 (2015): 14.
[90] Roös, "Indigenous Knowledge," 15.
[91] Edwards, W.H. [ed.], 214.
[92] Bruce Pascoe, The Little Red Yellow Black Book. (Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 2008), 8.
[93] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 9.
[94] Ibid., 3.
[95] Ibid.
[96] O’Rourke, “Aboriginal Camps,” 855.
[97] Memmott, P., 91.
[98] Berndt, Ronald. M. and Berndt, Catherine, H., 37.
[99] "Positioning the Traditional," Paul Memmott, 9.
[100] Milani, R. B., 5.
[101] Oliver, P., 1172.
[102] Weiner, J. F [ed.], 118.
[103] Pospisil, “The Kapauku Papuans,” 189.
[104] Ibid., 188.
[105] Milani, R. B., 8.
[106] Weiner, J. F [ed.], 123.
[107] Ibid., 2.
[108] Milani, R. B., 18.
[109] Ibid., 8.