Indigenous Fest

We had flown over eight of the ten highest peaks in the world. The plane banked steeply and dropped through the clouds, skimming the rice paddies and landed at Paro, the only airport in Bhutan. We soon found that the magnificent Terminal Building with over-hanging eaves, elaborately painted walls and carved windows is normal architecture in the country. Another striking feature - everyone wears national dress, so immigration and customs formalities had added interest.

Kick up the dust. Put on your best cowboy duds and get ready for some real down-home Americana at the Green River Rendezvous in Pinedale, Wyoming, a annual pageant offering a colorful collection of mountain men, explorers, Indians and well orchestrated drama showing the history of the region with a western bent.

Out on the tundra, eyes level with the humps of juniper and blueberry bushes, I crouched and surveyed the horizon. The violet, burnt orange, purple, and brick red rolled in waves to the fading blue sky. Sunset on the far eastern reaches of Siberia.

IT ISN'T MUSIC AND IT HAS NO RHYTHM. Amplified by the clear mountain air, the cacophony of sound is deafening. Conversation becomes impossible and all attention turns to the temple entrance, whence a procession of solemn faced monks is emerging.

Something very special is happening in the hills behind the Sunshine Coast. Something that turns dreams into reality.

Whatever the sights, there's no doubt that the highlight of a trip to Tana Toraja, the area of central Sulawesi whose capital is Rantepao, is to visit a funeral. This is easier than it sounds: because the funeral celebrations take a lot of preparation, not to mention expense, the Torajans have two funerals for each death, much like the Balinese; the first one is a private affair straight away after the death, and the body is preserved in the house where it died until the necessary cash has been saved up for the second one, a much bigger, more public affair. Because the second funeral is effectively a huge party and can be held at any time, it tends to be organised for between July and October when the relatives can come to visit more easily, during the school holidays. This leads to the strange concept of the Funeral Season, which Rose and I were lucky enough to catch the end of.