The Asaro Mudmen of Papua New Guinea, Paiya Village, Western Highlands, PNG

Papua New Guinea is a veritable pastiche of colours and customs, jungle noises and music, tribal warfare and elaborately costumed dance. Creation myths abound, wending their way through oral history and everyday life, so that ancient legends are transformed into marketing strategies, and no one can be sure any longer which is which.

That is the way it is with culture: it is not static. Sometimes it takes on elements through expediency or through interactions with more powerful or more interesting groups; other times, the edges of traditions harden to repel the pressures of change. Culture ebbs and flows. 

Papua New Guinea’s ruggedly mountainous and heavily jungled terrain is home to hundreds of indigenous peoples. Many of these tribal groups had no contact with ‘outsiders’ before the early 1900s – after which time, their unique practices and cultural complexity made PNG an attractive location for anthropologists studying traditional societies and changing social structures.

This academic study – predominantly from the ethnocentric perspective of Western thought and values – has not necessarily brought any clarity to the origins or meanings of particular cultural practices. The ‘meaning’ of culture here is under the political pressures that are on a fledgeling nation wanting to maintain traditional values while fostering a unified ‘national’ identity among the more than 7000 different community groups who speak 851 distinct languages. Add to this, the marketing pressures of a developing country using its own unique cultural heritage to attract foreign tourist dollars, and you have ‘cultural colour’ packaged for tourism. Who hasn’t seen colourful pictures of Highland warriors in PNG promotional advertising?

I only had a brief time in the country – two weeks across four main locations: Port Moresby (see: A Slice of Life and Life on the Edge); Milne Bay (see: Portraits from the Dance and Innocent Eyes and Head Hunters); the Middle Sepik (see: Ursula’s Weekly Wanders Sepik PNG); and Mount Hagen (see: Mt Hagen), so my understanding of the culture is superficial at best. Under the guidance of photographer Karl Grobl from Jim Cline Photo Tours, our small group of photography enthusiasts was focussed on the various song-and-dance shows, or sing sings, on offer during our visit.

It was in this context that I got to meet a small group of Asaro Mudmen. Traditionally, this unique tribe comes from outside Goroka in the Eastern Highlands Province, but there is also a community in Pogla close to Mount Hagen, which is more likely where the men I met were from. Thanks to our hosts, Paiya Tours, the Mudmen had arrived a day before the annual Paiya Mini Show to show us how they prepared themselves for war – or for exhibition performances, as is more often the case these days.

As I watched the “how”, I struggled with the “why”. I have since come across three distinct explanations for the masked costumes that the Asaro people display for tourists visiting their villages, and for sing sing performances.

We were told that the Asaro, having been defeated in battle by another Highland tribe, retreated to the Asaro River. When they emerged, they were covered in thick white mud, and their enemies believed that they were the spirits of the dead, and ran away in fear. A variation of this story that I have read is that the idea for the masks came to an Asaro elder in a dream.

Another story, published by the BBC (Behind the Masks), suggests that the custom began when one Asaro man, who was invited to a wedding, had no traditional costume to wear and so fashioned a mask from a bilum (string bag) and clay mud. Rather than impressing his friends, they thought he was a ghost and ran away.

These stories imply that these heavy clay masks and bamboo finger extensions date back at least to the tribal village raids of the 1800s. However, in a paper published in 1996 (The Asaro Mudmen: Local Property, Public Culture?), Danish anthropologists Ton Otto and Robert J. Verloop make the case for a much more modern design of the Mudman costume, claiming that it was invented by Asaro Valley villagers for the first Eastern Highlands Agricultural Show in 1957, but that the concept was based on the traditional practice of bakime – disguising oneself with tree sap, mud, or clay (to prevent reprisals) before performing a raid or attempting an assassination. It is a common Highland practice to cover ones entire body with charcoal to look more frightening for battle, or to smear oneself with clay or mud as an expression of grief.

Whatever the genesis of the Mudmen, it was fascinating watching them get ready to perform. Truly, their headpieces are far too hot and heavy to be worn into battle, so a ‘performance’ has to be enough!

Do join me!

It was a fascinating glimpse into another world – and that’s the thing with Papua New Guinea: every few miles, the ‘world’ changes!

Until next time,

Happy Travels!

Pictures: 17August2017