Sharing Breastmilk & Creating Family

Wet nursing is now uncommon in the West, but can be found many in other cultures. Many Cocos Malay women have breastfeed someone else's biological child, making that child into part of their family. This creation of family through shared milk contrasts with Western ideas that family comes from sharing the same 'blood'. Instead of wet nurse, I'll just call them breastfeeding mothers. 

Breastfeeding motherhood

Breastfeeding motherhood is almost intertwined with adoption for Cocos Malays. However, for the purposes of analysis, I'll keep them separate here. Here are some biographical notes Monika and  I collected from people who have a 'breast-feeding mother':

• Mak Dem told me she found out, as a child, that she had a 'breast-feeding mother'. After giving birth, her biological mother had health problems and was taken to West Island for medical care. So another woman had breast-feed Mak Dem. After Mak Dem found out about this, she began addressing her breastfeeding mother simply as 'mum' (Mak); similarly she calls her breast-feeding mother's husband 'dad' (Pak). She does not use the she would normally use for an adult--other people would address the couple as Nek Zal. Put another way, this husband and wife are related to Mak Dem because of the breast milk the wife shared.

• Mak Mae is a mother whose baby, Mae, has two breastfeeding mothers. Mak Mae is a Cocos Malay woman who has moved to Home Island from the Cocos Malay community in Katanning. Before she moved, she gave birth to her daughter Maesha. When Mak Mae started working in Katanning, another Cocos Malay woman offered to breast feed Maesha. Although the two women had gone to high-school together in Katanning they hadn't been so close. Mak Mae said she initially she was taken aback by the request, but she agreed. As a result, the two mothers (biological and breast) became very close. Maesha also considers the breast-feeding mother with deep affection, Mak Mae told me. So the breastfeeding brought these 3 people (birth mother, breast-feeding mother, and child) into a close bond. 

• Mrs Nek Sofia told me that her breast-feeding mother already had a biological son. Nevertheless, she wanted a daughter. So she asked Mrs Nek Sofia's biological mother if it would be alright to breastfeed Mrs Nek Sofia. Mrs Nek Sofia's mother acquiesced. Mrs Nek Sofia's husband said that Mrs Nek Sofia was, in effect 'adopted' by the breast-feeding mother. Mrs Nek Sofia agreed with this when I asked her. I'll discuss adoption more in a subsequent blog.

Milk siblings:
Mr Nek Sumila & Nek Ramdan 

• Aini / Mak Sofia. Nek Sofia told us that her next-door neighbour, and sister-in-law, Nek Kelem asked if she could breastfeed Aini. Nek Sofia agreed. Nek Sofia said it was always impromptu, based on when Nek Kelem wanted to breastfeed the Aini (presumably when her breasts were full). Aini's grandparents, Nek Sofia's biological parents, also looked after her. So Nek Kelem just came in to breast feed, more than to look after Aini for extended periods. Aini would also sleep at Nek Kelem's house.

• Nek Arena, an imam (Islamic preacher/scholar) told me he is a 'breast-feeding or breast-milk father' (bapak susu). His wife had breastfed Ayesha the biological child of Haji Hajat; Ayesha calls Nek Arena "bapak" or father. "It's a very strong bond," he added, between the breastfed child and Nek Arena, his wife, their children and grandchildren.

• Nek Ramdan said that she has a milk brother. Her mum breastfed Nek Sumila. Nek Sumila is also her mother's anak angkat; because he was dibuang by the Mokta family. He lived with Nek Ramdan's family and, importantly, got married at their house (i.e. the groom's part of the wedding celebrations were held at his house). 

Local understandings

These actual stories contrast with the theories people have about breastfeeding.

• Nek Arena also had an interesting take on breast-feeding mothers. He explained that the bond with a breast-feeding mother is stronger than just with an adopted child [but I think it depends on the scale of adoption]. If you only feed off a breast once or twice, then you're not a breastfed child. More than that three times, then you can be accepted as breastfed child. 
• Nek Rezeki (Bujang/Bohari's mum and Kylie's mother in law) said that tak boleh breastfeed someone else's child, according to hukum agama. Also she said that because we now have 'susu kaleng' it's not necessary to breastfeed another's child "dulu tak ada susu kaleng". Nek Rezeki has seven kids which explains why . "Kita tak tahu dulu".

I'm not sure if these opinions are widespread, but I never heard anyone else mention them. 

Cultural and social context

Stories like this are common in the Indonesian-Malay world, where you frequently meet people who have family through breastfeeding. In other words, breastfeeding can be seen as creating family; in the same way that Westerners are familiar with the idea of marriage and giving birth as creating family. Cocos Malays we spoke with emphasised the bond and the connection with he breastfeeding parents and milk siblings. How can we compare this to prevailing Western attitudes?

Finding children delightful

Delight in raising children

First, Cocos Malays view raising children differently. Raising children is idealised as a delight. Children are thought to be a blessing; parenthood (and, perhaps, grandparenthood) is possibly the greatest achieved status. Not having children is 'bored at home' (boring di rumah) in the words of Nek Shah. (This reminds of my fieldwork location in Java, where not being a parent leaves a person lonely (kesepian); being childless is something to be pitied (kasihan).) The attitude is slightly different to the Western approach; it tends to be indulgent of children. Perhaps it would be too imprecise and generalised to say that in the West raising children is viewed as a bit of a chore for which the child should be grateful; among the Cocos Malays raising children is a godsend for which the parent should be grateful. This might help explain why some lactating women seek to breastfeed other children.

Responsibility for raising children

Another reason is a sense of collective responsibility for children. As Cocos Malays see it, children aren't just their biological parents' responsibility. This is exemplified in the way the mothers and sometimes the father who attend the local playgroup and better beginnings program at the school would collectively look after the young children and babies, passing them around and taking care of them. Maybe the reason for this collective parenting is because they are all related. Yet, I think it is more than just that. In the Indonesian village where I undertook fieldwork the collective parenting much more pronounced and not confined to relatives. As another example, one local gentleman seemed to have a very low opinion of me. I was still unable to engage him in so much as a nod when we were in other's presence. One day I was inside and didn't notice my child quietly crying outside. The man took time, and not in a condescending or aggravated manner, to let me know. It was, as far as I could tell, merely out of concern for my child; and I am grateful to him for that. It did not mark the beginning of friendly relations between us; nothing really changed. Whatever he thought of me, he still looked out for my child in a caring fashion. This sense of collective responsibility may also contribute to understanding the sharing of breastmilk.

Breastmilk means something different

Another important factor pertains to the meaning of breast milk. Human breast milk obtains different significance in different cultures. For the Cocos Malays, sharing it with another person's biological child remains deeply meaningful. Nek Arena told me of a special prayer for the mother who provides breast milk; it is a "doa memulangkan air susu" . In that prayer, to paraphrase him, what we sucked from our mother we want to return to her. This prayer is also used for the breast-feeding mother. But it signifies the relationship continues on to the hereafter (akherat). Nek Sofia said susu is like blood; it makes you family. Shana said that the susu is more important than blood; it nourishes you, gives you life. English speakers use the expression 'blood is thicker than water' to emphasise the closeness of kin; we could say for the Cocos Malays that 'milk is thicker than water'.

Still taken from Mead's video, showing a mother breastfeeding another child, while her own child remonstrates

Bateson and Mead misunderstood Balinese breastfeeding. 

Controversial anthropologists, Gregory Bateson and Margaret Mead made a video showing Balinese mothers teasing their biological children by breast feeding the children of other mothers. Implicitly drawing on Freud, Bateson & Mead interpret the Balinese mothers as intensifying the attachment with their biological child and encouraging sibling rivalry. I think the opposite. I Balinese adults punish inappropriate behaviour in children by teasing and laughing at them. The mothers are simply teaching children Balinese values, such as 'you need to control your temper'; 'you cannot be possessive or jealous of your mother'. They are also showing kindness and neighbourliness by breastfeeding someone else's biological baby. I think Bateson and Mead couldn't see all this because they assumed that the mother would 'naturally' feed her own biological child.

Westerners tend to assume a natural breastfeeding connection between mother and biological son.  Breastfeeding is thought to be a deeply personal, unique, and at the same time natural, bond between biological mother and child.Bateson & Mead assume that the biological mother will breastfeed child--an assumption built in to Freud's theories The idea that the biological mother should be the breastfeeder. Even the pro-breastfeeding, quasi-feminist pamphlets seem to rely on this value, which Marxists like Habermas would understand as a bourgeois family value. However, to understand the breastfeeding mothers in Cocos Malay perspective, maybe it is more useful to think that any lactating woman could be the breastfeeder.

Westerners idealise breastfeeding as a natural connection between mother and her biological daughter.

Translating "Mak Susu" & "Mak Tetek"

Cocos Malays have two terms for what we have translated as breastfeeding mother--mak susu and mak tetek. I have been cautioned to use, when speaking Cocos Malay the polite term "mak susu". "Mak" means mother or mum. As in English, it is a form of address (e.g. "Mum, can I have a present?") and reference (e.g. "Where does your mum live"?). "Susu" presents more of a problem, meaning "breast"; "milk"; and "breast milk".  However, the common, and coarse,  term for breastfeeding mother is "mak tetek" . "Tetek" can mean "boob", "tit", and "nipple". In Indonesian, influenced presumably by Javanese, "netek" means to suckle, but we have not heard this verb used on Home Island. One woman explained to me in mixed Malay-English, a Mak Susu is "when you isap another person's tetek".

Translating 'mak susu'

People in English-speaking cultures are familiar with the idea of a 'wet nurse'. A wet nurse is a woman who, for a variety of reasons, was employed to breastfeed another person's child. A number of Cocos Malays we met were breastfed by a woman (or two!) aside from their own biological mother. In Cocos Malay, these people are referred to as "mak susu" (a politer term) or "mak tetek" (coarser). To translate, instead of 'wet nurse', I'll use the word "breastfeeding mother" (although  "milk mother" might have been more accurate). The term for husband of the breastfeeding mother is, "pak susu", which I'll translate as "breastfeeding father" (similarly "milk father" might have been better here) . The biological children of these people I will call, following the anthropological tradition, milk siblings (they are 'milk brothers' and 'milk sisters').

• "diambe" is a word that often comes up
• Nek Ramdan is a Mak Tetek to Pak Izahan. Pak Izahan is a twin. 

The Special Gift: Adoption & kinship

The Cocos Malays possess a specifically cultural practice of child adoption. The Malay term for  "anak angkat". A literal but loose translation would be 'taken up child', but it is usually translated as "adopted child". The parents don't sign papers and Australian law doesn't recognise it. The adopting parents' role can range from something akin to what Westerners would call a 'god-parent' (largely symbolic parenthood); to a kind of shared parenting (in which the child can go back and forth from the biological to adopted parents); and, at the other extreme, an intensive role in raising a child.

Everyone we spoke with seemed to have a slightly different take on Cocos adoption in general. So we have focused on actual stories. But often even what constituted the facts of these stories are inconsistent (e.g. who requested the adoption). It's probable that Cocos Malays themselves might find my account inaccurate.

A childless couple receives the 'special gift'

I ran into one of my friends, Rahman. He and his wife, Sinti, have been married for several years. They have been trying, without success, to conceive a child. He told me that they had adopted a child called Rubiya from Mak & Pak Nabila. Now, as is the Cocos Malay custom (see my blog on teknonymy) Rahman and Sinti are known as Mr & Mrs Rubiya [Pak & Mak Rubiya]. They have Rubiya for five days/week; and Pak & Mak Nabila have Rubiya for two. 

A few days later I bumped into Mak & Pak Nabila as they were walking their procreative daughter, Rubiya, in her pram as their first daughter Nabila was riding alongside. I asked them about the adoption. They are both fluent English speakers and explained to me in no uncertain terms that there is no way that they would just give away their daughter. They felt very sorry for Rahman and Sinti not being able to conceive their own child. It would be inconsiderate to let Rahman and Sinti be without when they were already blessed with children. And, at the same time, they love both their daughters equally--it would be inconceivable  for them to just give one away and never see her again. Because their houses are only 3 minutes walk away, they are constantly in contact. So I guess you could say that, viewed from the Cocos Malay perspective, giving Nabila to Rahman and Sinti was the 'natural solution' "We're all family anyway" But why did Mak & Pak Nabila, and not someone else on Home Island, give their child? Put simply, Mak Nabila and Sinti are related. First, they are 'sisters', but not in a sense that is usually recognised in the West. They both suckled from the same woman, their "mak netek" or "ibu susu". I guess because Mak Nabila and Sinti are so close. Second, as Sinti explained to my wife, both Mak and Pak Nabila are her cousins from her mother and father's side essentially, her adopted child is thus a close family member, that they are all related and part of an extended family. I think she said something like "we're all family anyway".

Becoming adopted parents

When parents give birth to their first child (call her Ayesha) in Cocos Malay society they, take the child's name. The dad becomes Pak Ayesha and the Mum, Mak Ayesha. I have written about this practice of teknonymy, as anthropologists call it, in another blog. 

What I didn't realise when I wrote that blog is that you can get a teknonym even if you are unmarried! A single woman Monika spoke to adopted her neighbour's child and took a teknonym. The biological mother's teknonym came from her first child. Asi got her teknonym from the second child. 

Additionally, Asi's fiancé  got his teknoym from this second child, even though the two of them are not married.

Examples of adopting

• Nek Sofia was the youngest biological child in her large family. She was adopted by her Mak and Pak Susu. They had a son but hadn't had a daughter. They were neighbours. The her Mak & Pak Susu had two more kids after they adopted her. She only remembers two things clearly. She remembered that by the age of 6 or 7 she wanted to go to sleep with her biological family. At the age of 10 or 11 she said that she would live back with her biological family. She still would visit her adopted family for meals. These day she visits Geraldton, where her adopted parents live. Her adopted brother sends her sate from Katanning; and her daughter sends sate from . The fish she sends are fish from the inside (lagoon fish) not outside fish (like tuna, sailfish etc.)
• Emira (Emi):  Arena told me that Nek Fazrih gave Emirah to her  adik younger cousin (or perhaps younger sister) Mak Emi. In this case there was what is regarded as a close family relationship between the giver and receiver.
• Mak Zizi (Grace) : Someone gave their fifth child to Grace. There was a connection between Grace and the child's biological mother. Grace requested the baby (kalo anak itu lahir saya minta anak itu). 
• Faizie: Lala is engaged to Azra. they've been a couple for 8 years. Mak Faizie is Lala's mother's niece [making them cousins]. Mak Faizie is Faizie's biological model. The situation in the family was 'difficult' [perhaps because Pak Faizie was from Malaysia?]. Faizie became Lala her anak angkat because he called her "mak" from the age of two when he started sleeping at her house sleeping. She's had the boy, Faizie, since he was 4 years old. That was when Faizie's father, Elzan, passed away last year. At that point, Faizie started calling Lala's fiance, Azra, Pak. However, the biological still goes by the name of Mak Faizie; which runs against the common practice of the adopting parent taking the child's name. Lala and Azra plan to Perth after they get married. Faizie will not go with them, because now his Dad has died, Faizie, at the age of 5 years notwithstanding, has become his mother's wakil (or formal representative). [This is the first case I've heard of in which an unmarried woman became a Mak Angkat].
• Nek Salbiah explained that her first child died. The baby girl was born with a kind of 'cut' in the head. Her husband was cutting wood, someone warned him, "don't cut wood your wive's pregnant--it's bad luck"--but the fact that this man voiced this warning was the bad luck. Then they had two sons--Wedding and Wezen. Then Nek Farid, Nek Salbiah's younger sister, had two boys and three girls. The couple wanted a daughter; so they adopted the three girls. Nek Salbiah helped look after the three girls. Nek Salbiah said that Nek Farid had requested. Because they didn't have a daughter, she and her husband were very happy to look after the girls. The girls called the "mak" and "pak" and visited them on Hari Raya. So Nek Salbiah explained that all her anak angkat. Siang malam makan di sini sejak bayi. 
• After the interview finished, Mak Alfin, Nek Salbiah's daughter-in-law said that it is not true that the girls called the "mak" or "pak", it was only "wak"; and maybe it was the first child who could be considered an anak-angkat, but not the other two. Nevertheless, she said, her mother-in-law does love all three girls, because they bathed them, wiped their bums, fed them, cooked for them. They really did take care of them, but the girls don't really treat them like adopted parents; they always go back to their mothers. Their mother never told them to call Nek Salbiah  "mak". And when the girls got married, the tarob was at Nek Farid's not at the adopted parents.
• Mak Alfin says that the girl who Nek Fifi has adopted calls her Mak but she doesn't want to acknowledge this. If you acknowledge someone, in her opinion, you are responsible for the child, you will be . She gives her selawat and food because the child lacks care. It's as if she wants to be adopted.
• Nek Sumila said that he had an Indonesian adopted parents. The couple were on Home Island, apparently as part of a religious congregation or gathering. It wasn't clear if Nek Sumila was still be in contact with them

From the child's perspective

The parents do not seem to push the adoption too hard. It seems that the kids have big say. Children kids often decide which of their parents' house' they will sleep. Often it seems the kids decided 'seenak-enaknya' (just as it suits them).

I'm not sure what this all looks like from the child's perspective. Most people seem to agree that they tend to 'milk' it. When they are young they get typically get spoiled with food and drink, special treats. As they get older, if they get in trouble with one set of parents, they go and stay with the other parents.

From the Imam's perspective

I asked Nek Arena, a religious specialist (imam) about this. His opinion was different to other I came across. H: 

Allah Ta'ala supaya Azrin dan Munirah bleh mempunyai anak. Ikut, mengikut, supaya Azrin boleh mempunyai anak. 

In his opinion, an adopted child, according to Islam, may not inherit from the adopted parents; or at least not inherit anything if there is an 'actual child' 

The biological parent has the right to put on Nikah (religious aspect of wedding) not the adopted parent. Even if the biological father has died, it has to be another biological male who marries  Maureen lamented that she couldn't put on the wedding for her adopted child. Nek Arena explained that, according to tradition, the "jemput makan" or "party" is also at the biological father's house. However, the adopting father "tetap ada di samping". (by contrast, when Allen's adopted son got married, it was at Allen's house, and Nek Fifi ada di samping--but maybe this only reinforces the point because in the case it was a formalised arrangement).

Fluidity of adoption

The practice is fluid. The kind of adoption I'm interested is not once-and-for-all. For example in one instance, an infertile couple began adopting a chid through weekly visits. They took their teknonym from the chid. However, the mother did conceive. They began to scale back the visits and the teknonym began not to be applied any longer.

What makes a couple want to give the 'special gift' 

On Home Island, Nek Arena told me of a case in which a young boy was continually unwell. It was thought that something between the kids and the biological parents, something unseen ('alus') was affecting the child. The biological parents decided that he would be adopted.

Mak Laila's second daughter had a blood problem--low in white cells?. So diambe anak angkat by the next door neighbour Nek Fifi. [Eventually Mak Laila and Nek Fifi had an affair.] Nek Fifi will be responsible for the child financially, but the child also lives with Nek Fifi full time.

What makes a couple want to receive the 'special gift'

By pull factors, I mean what makes a couple want to adopt a child:

• Not having a child.
• Not having a child of a specific gender.
• Replace a child who had passed away (childbirth etc)
• The people who receive the child may be The childless married couple
• To be blessed eventually with a biological child, the adopted child helps bring about 'good luck' to the household and eventual fertility, or to the woman if she is 'single'
• To help a family member, a neighbour or a friend in difficult need of babysitting, a single mother, a young mother with heavy responsibility either ritual or employment, mother with many children -- doing a good deed and getting the love of a child in return who calls you 'mak' or 'pak' which is an honorific given to you whether or not you are single/married in the case of an anak angkat or adopted child.

Challenges

All this suggests to me that it is very difficult to understand if one starts by assuming a biological family as a natural unit. I don't think Cocos Malays share this assumption. Instead, the family is much more fluid.  shouldn't go too far with this. When speaking with me English, Cocos Malays often refer to the biological parents as actual parents. In other words English term 'adopted child' is sometimes used. To distinguish what I would, awkwardly and ambiguously call the 'biological child, the English term "actual child" is also frequently used.  In Cocos Malay, the term  'anak betol' (an actual child) explained as 'anak dari kandong sendiri' or 'anak yang dilahirkan dari kandongannya sendiri' seem to be common .

• Pak Emi  (policeman brother of Haji Adam) adopted Emi from Nek Sari
• Nek Fifi (Haji Zaitol) had all boys but were looking for a girl Norain from (Mimi) Mak Pak Lelah (Suranah and Asman)
• Mak Arena from Balong Kokos was an anak angkat
• Saufie
• Jane Collin is adopted.  Madie Sigma (guy in Parth) is her biological brother. This adoption was formalised; she took [her grandfather's ?] name.
• Ashari Allen (who got married after we were in the pink house) his biological dad is nek fifi. But he was raised by Pak Allen Medis (Nek Awlia; Pak Ashari--pak ashari is nek fifi's nephew). Maybe I could talk to Ashari???

Adoption in Banyuwangi, East Java

What makes biological parents want to make the special gift of a child?  In Banyuwangi Indonesia, I heard of cases where  the newborn baby is too much for the biological parents. The parents already had too many children, or particularly, gave birth to twins. I have also heard of cases in which the biological parents were not married. For instance, an unmarried woman gave birth to a boy. The boy was taken up by the unmarried woman's father, who, in a sense, adopted his grandson. Another reason is that one or both parents might have died. In other words, the situation made it more difficult to raise the child. Most generally, it seems, in my fieldwork location, there was a sense of 'kasihan'--a sense of pity towards couples who do not have a child--and a desire to help out.

In Banyuwangi it is common for a married couple who already have at least one biological child to give a baby to a childless married couple. Sometimes the married couple is not childless. They may only have daughters and thus they might be given a son. The practice is usually informal; there are no adoption papers etc. In one case I knew of, there was some misgiving over inheritance--the adopted child had inherited from his adopted parents. This was contrary to the rules, at least as local people understood them, of Islamic inheritance.

 I think I also recall cases in which the giving couple felt they were too poor to raise another child ; they would give their child to a married couple who were able to raise the child. In such a case whether the receiving couple were childless or had children of only one gender was not so important.  As I recall, the two couples will often be related or if not have some other connection such as living in the same village.

Adoption in Australia'Western' style adoption

Westerners would be familiar with adoption in a number of circumstance. For example, if a young child's parent's die, if a child is 'born out of wedlock'*, if the biological parents are deemed legally unfit to raise a child. that child may be adopted. Since the 1970s, gay and lesbian parents have turned to adoption to build families.

In Western conceptions of self, possession, and giving; giving is a way of transferring ownership from one individual to another. To take it to an extreme, in the West, an individual is a completely separate unit, extricable from his or her social context. What the individual owns is entirely this individual's business; no one else has say. When this individual gives a gift; the gift becomes the possession of another individual. The giver has no special claim or say over it anymore, This becomes complicated in cases of adoption though...

*A child is said to be 'born out of wedlock' if the child's biological mother is unmarried or she is married, but the biological father is not thought to the woman's husband. The phrase is uncommon these days, but even up to the 1960s it was thought to be a big problem.

Prophet's Birthday: Procession

Like other Muslim communities the world over, the people of Home Island celebrate the birth of the Prophet Mohammad with celebrations and reverence. They also add their own Cocos Malay twist.

Men chanting

Birth of the Prophet

Muslims celebrate the birth of the Prophet Mohammad on a day called Maulud Nabi. Maulud Nabi occurs once every lunar year. In this blog, I describe the first part of the Maulud Nabi celebrations on Home Island.

Procession / Ngarak

The first part of the ritual was a procession (ngarak). Home Islanders began gathering for the festivities at the mosque from 7am. Then with a few announcements Mr Nek Shah got the the procession going.

An imam makes a few announcements before we set off. Behind him,
the Cocos (Keeling) Islands and Australian flags

At the front were the imam and wakil imam. Behind them were boys from the religious school (they study the Koran and Hadith after school everyday) carrying banners.

Imams at the front with wakil imam, and boys carrying banner behind them.

Further back marched the tambourine men (orang rebana) who chanted. The chanting was loud, joyful and welcoming. Unlike a Christmas pageant, there were few spectators. The emphasis was on joining in, rather than just watching the procession.

At the rear was the rest of the procession--Home Islanders and a few mainland Australians who had made the trip over from West Island to join in.

Women and children, further back in the procession.

The procession did a lap around the kampong (village). The pace was cracking initially, so the whole procession took about 25 minutes to complete, returning back to the mosque.

Procession comes to an end.

After that, the next part of the ritual involved readings and eating. I'll discuss that in my next blog.

Anthropological Analysis

Ethnomusicology

Ethnomusicologists study music and dance in a larger cultural context. As I understand it, ethnomusicology is the anthropology of music and dance performance. Ethnomusicologists are not just interested in 'big ticket' ritual or ceremonial performances like the procession I've described in this blog. They also focus on things like mothers singing lullabies, humming around the house.

Procession

From ethnomusicologists we get a sense of the procession as a distinct form of ritual and that performance can be found in many cultures.  often accompany rites-of-passage. In Western marriage rituals, the bride walks down the aisle with musical background. In the famous New Orleans funerals of the past, the musicians accompany the performers. The term seems to be "processional performance".

Ethnomusicology of Cocos Malay culture

Other ethnomusicologists, Dr David Irving and Dr Jenny McCallum, are undertaking a research project on the history and practice of Malay music traditions among the Cocos Malays. This is not just on the Cocos (Keeling) Islands--they researched Maulud Nabi this year among the Cocos Malays of Katanning. Their research will form an important contribution to our understanding Cocos Malay culture.

Ethnomusicology in other contexts

You might also want to read at the work of Monika Winarnita, who is the other half of this research project on Cocos Malay culture. Her book specifically focuses on Indonesian migrant women's dance performances in Perth, Western Australia:  http://www.sussex-academic.com/sa/titles/SS_Asian/Winarnita.htm. Drawing on ethnomusicology, Monika shows how these women would like to perform their Indonesian cultural identity as migrants in Australia. Although mostly amateur housewives, they see themselves as cultural ambassadors, teaching Australians about Indonesian culture. They perform created dances which show their mixed identity--and as part of her participant-observation, Monika joined in. The dances are mostly performed at multicultural festivals. In doing this, they are trying to belong and 'reinvent' themselves as part of the Indonesian community in Australia.

Different kinds of parents

In my culture, you can expand your family by marrying or sexually reproducing. Cocos Malays also use other ways.

Different forms of parenting

Aside from 'biological' parents, Cocos Malays recognise three other common 'relatives' who look after children: breastfeeding parents (that is a wet nurse and her husband); adopted parents; and grandparents. Nenek's personal experiences of child-rearing incorporate all three. As she related to Monika, she has six biological children (3 shared with other mothers) and one 'milk son':

• The milk son. Nenek said she had breastfed (i.e. wet nursed) another woman's biological son. The boy's mother requested because she did not produce enough milk, her "body was infertile" (tubuh tidak subur). The boy's grandparent and Nenek 's father are siblings. Nenek explained that the boy "is my son and I'm his mak susu" (wet nurse, milk mother). This sense of "son" and "mother" has a literal dimension. The boy could not marry any of Nenek's biological daughters because the daughters were, effectively, the boy's siblings. Anthropologists would say that the daughters are the boy's 'milk siblings'.
• The adopted daughter. A local Cocos couple who had one son and no daughter asked if they could adopt one of Nenek's daughters. Nenek consented. This daughter would spend most of her time at her adopted parent's house but would go home to her biological parents house to sleep at night. The adopted parents had hoped by having Nenek's daughter as an adopted child they would be blessed with another child. 8 years later they had their own biological daughter.  The adopted parents still play a role in Nenek's daughter's life as an adult and they remain close. 
• Another adopted daughter. Nenek has another daughter. She was adopted by Nenek's niece. The niece had been married for a long time but didn't have a child, so the niece adopted Nenek's daughter.  Now this daughter has two sons and a daughter; Nenek's niece is considered their grandmother and take oldest son's name (see my blog on teknonyms). When we arrived in 2016, the two mothers (biological and adopting) were waving goodbye to their daughter and grand-daughter who were heading to the mainland for a short trip. 
• Adoption brings the two grandmothers together. The niece is working full-time. So the grandmothers divide up the labour of looking after the grandkids. The niece looks after the older two boys. Nenek looks after the granddaughter. Nenek explained that this granddaughter is important to her because she looked after this granddaughter since she was very young. On Tuesday when Moni was supposed to meet Nenek, Nenek cancelled because she had to help her granddaughter with her introduction day to kindergarten.
• The breastfeeding mother. When she had her youngest daughter, Nenek had the opportunity to go on the Haj (pilgrimage to Mecca). She left her daughter with her family in Cocos. While Nenek was on the Haj, her grandmother gave her daughter to another woman to be breastfed for six months (as the grandmother thought the child was still quite young). It hadn't been organised before she left; Nenek only found out when she got back.
• To summarise, Nenek has 6 biological children. 3 of them are 'shared': a daughter, who was adopted by another local couple; a daughter who was adopted by her niece; and a daughter who was breastfed by another woman while she was on the Haj. Nenek also breastfed another boy; becoming his 'milk mother'.
• As she explained it; she didn't plan it this way; it was up to Allah; it's not really up to us humans. 
• In most societies families are made through marrying people and having children. Many societies have yet other ways of making family. For the Cocos Malays, the kinds of parenting--adoption, milk parenting (wet nursing), adoption and milk grandparenting--are all common ways of caring for children and making family bonds.

In subsequent blogs, I will analyse these different kinds of parenthood in more detail.

Grandmas with their grandchildren. This is an end-of-year party for government school program. Called "Better Beginning" it is designed to prepare pre-school children for school

Anthropological Analysis

Kinship

The first thing to say is that this blog is concerned with what anthropologists call kinship. If in English we say that "my cousin Jan is related to me through my father's side"; what we mean by "related" is the object of kinship studies. Or if you say, "family is everything"; what you mean by "family" is what we study in kinship. Kinship is, in basic terms, the anthropological study of what counts as 'family' or who counts as a 'relative' different cultures. As this definition implies; every culture has a slightly different understanding of who relatives are and what family consists in. I have already discussed an aspect of kinship in another blog. In that blog, I described some of the words--teknonyms--that Cocos Malays use to explain situate a person in terms of his or her family. As this indicates, the kinship of a society can have a variety of facets. Analysing these requires putting yourself in 'their' shoes.

Putting yourself in their shoes isn't easy...

Anthropologists try to 'put themselves in other people's shoes'. We try to understand the world from another culture's point of view; we try to see the world from the perspective of people who are different from us. Doing this is daunting; even for experienced anthropologists. This is especially the case when we try to understand customs which, when viewed from within our own culture's standards, seem strange or even offensive. For example, an Indonesian anthropologist might struggle to understand the culture of 'parties'  (replete with drinking alcohol, fornication, and violence) in Australia; or putting old people in homes. Conversely an Australian anthropologist might struggle to understand 'adoption' practices in Indonesia. Both anthropologists have to get beyond their own 'natural' assumptions if they want to understand what is going on.

...so we use strategies.

If you are new to studying anthropology, it sometimes seems like your lecturers and professors took up the anthropological perspective easily. It may seem they were born thinking and the way they do. But what anthropology teaches us runs against the grain even for lecturers and professor; things we assumed to be natural turn out to be, to a large degree cultural. This notion can be intellectually and emotionally challenging. So to help deal with the challenge, anthropologists (Australian, Indonesian, or from wherever) tend to employ several strategies, in particular; reflexivity, methodological relativism, and holism.

Dusk on Home Island

Reflexivity

So here's how I would approach Cocos Malay kinship using reflexivity: I grew up in a culture where the bond between biological mother and child is thought of as natural. For instance, when I raised the topic of Cocos Malay adoption with an Anglo Australian mother, she said "if someone wanted my baby, I would be like, 'just try to get him off me'". This implies that she would do everything in her power to stop her biological baby being separated from her. Given my cultural background, this really resonated with me, so I think the attitude is common enough. Even though we talk about new families, and extended families, unconventional families etc. these seem to measured against a very clear norm. When we are not thinking like anthropologists, we assume it is 'natural' for animals, especially mothers, to protect their offspring. So adoption has many negative connotations for Westerners; the common idea is that biological family is solid, indissoluble unit--a shelter from the storm of modern society. The widespread practice of adoption and milk parents slightly breaches this Western ideal. But then, we do give our children to day care 9-5; then send them to to school. We entrust our children to teachers; sometimes to nannies and au paires. We formalise and depersonalise this through contracts and pay. The Cocos Malay have informal relationships based on lifelong care and connection, on a sense of personal obligation, gift-giving, and responsibility. When I think about it using the principle reflexivity, the kinship practices I'm describing in this an subsequent blogs, start to make more sense. Anyway, this is only one step. Principles like methodological relativism and holism will also be useful to putting oneself in the another's shoes. And though the goal of empathetic understanding remains most likely unattainable, we anthropologists hope that applying these principles will provide a solid basis from which the real business of anthropology--the analysis of cultural and social aspects of human life--can proceed.

Anyway, more about Cocos Malay kinship and anthropology in subsequent blogs.

What kind of language is Cocos Malay?

Cocos Malay is the mother tongue for the people of Home Island. It's older than modern Malaysian and Indonesian but shares the same roots as these languages. Here is a sentence you might hear on Home Island:

"Habis lonceng, dorang pigi belakang pulu" (Cocos Malay)

There are many ways the Cocos Malay sentence translate this into English, I'll just stick with:

 "After the lunch bell, they're going to the ocean side of the island" (English)

The first thing to note is that the Cocos Malay sentence is clearly a Malay language. Let's compare it with another Malay language, Indonesian. Again the Cocos Malay is:

"Habis lonceng, dorang pigi blakang pulu" (Cocos Malay)

Rendered in Indonesian this might be:

"Habis lonceng, orang-orang pergi ke belakang pulau" (Indonesian)

I've used colors to highlight the similarities in the words. For the benefit of Indonesian speakers, I should note that the Cocos Malay has some idiomatic and unique meanings. "Belakang pulu" refers to the ocean side of any island in the Cocos atoll. "Dorang" (or sometimes "dong") is a plural form of person. And "lonceng" has a unique sense of the "lunch bell" in this context. Without knowing Indonesian however, you can see the resemblance between the two languages

Where is Cocos Malay spoken?

Cocos Malay almost certainly emerged on the Cocos (Keeling) Islands. But as Cocos Malays have emigrated, so has the Cocos Malay tongue. As far as I know, the Malay of the Cocos (Keeling) Islands is also spoken in the Cocos Malay diaspora, that is, in Christmas Island, Perth, Katanning, Port Hedland, Bunbury and in Tawau, Malaysia. It might be that the differences of the Malay spoken in these diverse locations outweigh the similarities. But for the meantime, it's probably safe to say it's the same language spoken in all these locations. As far as numbers; there are probably a little over 5000 speakers. They comprise about 4000 native speakers in Malaysia; 400 on Cocos (Keeling) Islands; 400 on Christmas Island, and a similar number on the Australian mainland.

What kind of language is Cocos Malay?

What language family does Cocos Malay belong to? I should first warn you, I'm a sociocultural anthropologist, not a linguist! With that caveat in mind, there are different ways of categorizing and bracketing the languages of the world. I think this is one way of doing it for Cocos Malay.

1. Austronesian

First, Cocos-Malay is an Austronesian language. We think that around four thousand years ago, one of the great migrations of human history occurred. The Austronesians began their grand journey. They probably started from Taiwan. First, they sailed to (maybe on their outriggers) and inhabited the islands of Southeast Asia. Then they head further east (to the Pacific) and a lot further west (to Madagascar). Such a widespread migration of a single people in pre-modern times is probably hard to match. I think the spread of the indigenous people through the Americas would come a close second.

This map depicts the commonly accepted picture of Austronesian migration, spreading from its earliest point (Taiwan 3000 BC) to its
most recent (New Zealand 1300 AD). It probably should include a small area of Cambodia, where Cham people speak an Austronesian language.

Anyway, the first point to make is that the language the Cocos Malays speak today is directly related to their Austronesian speaking ancestors from 4000 years ago.

2. Malayo-Polynesian

Second, among the Austronesian languages there are two major kinds:

1. Non-Malayo-Polynesian. Basically, these are the indigenous languages of Taiwan otherwise known as Formosan.
2. Malayo-Polynesian. This incorporates the languages spoken everywhere else in the Austronesian world. From Hawaii to New Zealand, the Philippines to Malaysia you can find Malayo-Polynesian languages, spoken by Austronesian populations.

So the Cocos Malay dialect could be grouped among the Malayo-Polynesian languages.

3. Western Malayo-Polynesian (WMP)

Third, among the Malayo-Polynesian languages, Cocos Malay belongs to the 'Western' branch. Malayo-Polynesian can be divided into:

1. Eastern Malayo-Polynesian. This incorporates the Pacific Ocean or Oceania; Polynesia, Micronesia, and parts of Melanesia. It is the yellow part, "Oc", on the map below
2. Western Malayo-Polynesian, the 'Malayo' part. This incorporates Madagascar, Malaysia, Indonesia. It is indicated as "WMP" on map below.
3. Central Malayo-Polynesian. These languages are spoken in Eastern Indonesia, the small area just to the north of Australia. See "CMP" on the map below.
4. South Halmahera West New Guinea. See the small area SHWNG squashed between the other three.

This map shows the Austronesian world, but divides it into 4 language areas. 

In the above map, the huge yellow area to the right incorporates Oceanic languages or EMP. The smaller WMP area is to the left. And squashed in between are SHWNG and CMP.

While Oceanic (or EMP) incorporates the largest area, but WMP incorporates by far the most speakers numbering in the millions.

(Note that in the areas with stars the indigenous peoples do not speak an Austronesian language, but rather the 1,000 or so Papuan languages.)

Several languages in the WMP have been influenced by, for example, Arabic, Sanskrit, Chinese languages, and subsequently colonial languages.

With only around 5000 speakers, Cocos Malay is not one of the largest WMP languages.

4. Malayic /Malay-Indonesian

Fourth, within the Western Malayo-Polynesian languages, one of the large branches is the Malayic (also known as Malay-Indonesian) languages. Cocos Malay is similar to modern Indonesian, Malaysian, and other varieties of Malay (such as spoken in Kupang and Bangka in Indonesia; Pattani in Southern Thailand). They all derive from a similar language Malayic or Malay-Indonesian language. Most probably this was spoken by the Melayu (Malay) people of Sumatra and peninsular Malaysia.

Summary

So there you have it. Cocos Malay is a Malayic language. Malayic languages belong to the Western branch of Malayo-Polynesian languages. The Malayo-Polynesian languages themselves belong Austronesian family. The next question is what distinguishes Cocos Malay from other forms of Malay, including modern Malaysian and Indonesian? I will take a more detailed look in a later blog.

Analysis

This blog has situated Cocos Malay in progressively smaller language groups from the huge (Austronesian) to the small (Malayic /Malay-Indonesian). Personally, what really interests me is the maps. These indicate that a single culture complex united such apparently diverse cultures as from Madagascar to Hawaii.

That was at least until about 1500, when societies on the Western seaboard of Europe (Portugal, Spain, and later England, Holland, and then France) started colonizing the world. As a result, the majority of people in Hawaii and New Zealand now speak English and in several Oceanic nations French is spoken. In other places, 'creoles' or 'pidgin' languages prevail. Nevertheless, Austronesian languages survive and flourish.

Was there a uniquely Austronesian culture? Initially, the Austronesian migrants probably spoke a single language, Cribb explains in his Digital Atlas of Indonesian History. For survival:

The Austronesians brought with them the technologies of pottery, outrigger canoes, and bows and arrows, as well as domestic pigs, fowl and dogs, and they cultivated rice and millet, along with other crops. Rice and millet at this stage were crops suited to temperate and sub-tropical climates, and they apparently did not become established in [in the tropical climate of] Indonesia until somewhat later; their place in the Austronesian diet was [initially] taken by taro, breadfruit, bananas, yams, sago and coconuts.

Austronesian religion probably included animism (the belief that spirits inhere in local trees, hills, streams, etc.); ritual meals to feed and reward these spirits; and maybe other things. For instance, dolmens, But it's difficult to sustain the argument of a uniquely Austronesian culture-complex, because we find these things elsewhere in the world and not always in Austronesian cultures. Still, when in 1497 Vasco de Gama set sail around the Cape of Good Hope; and, in 1521, when Magellan, coming from the other direction, rounded the Magellan Straits, there may have been a definable culture-complex linking these cultures of the Indian and Pacific Oceans.

But actually, this large-scale type thinking is not part of my anthropological background. I have been more influenced by the detailed study of small places. In particular, the anthropology from Malinowski (say 1920) to Geertz (1970) tended to have microscopic focus. Anthropologists looked at big themes (e.g. kinship) in little places (e.g. a village) in relation to specific issues (e.g. gift-giving).
The context in which I learned anthropology was skeptical about considering a culture (e.g. Cocos Malay 'culture') as a cohesive and unique single entity, and even more wary of the idea of a larger cultural complex.

But anthropology hasn't always been like that. In the early days (1880-1920), anthropologists Tylor and Frazer tried to search for the original forms of all human culture (an approach which could be called 'Origins and Evolution'). Boas studied how one culture influenced another (an approach known as 'Diffusionism').  In the 1960s, Levi-Strauss, taking his structuralist approach, treated indigenous cultures of North, Central, and South as a single Amerindian culture complex. 

If you want to look at more recent examples large, big-picture anthropology you could look at Europe and the People without History, in which Eric Wolf uses a Marxist approach to talk about swathes of the world in a single breath--and it works! Scott, also using a Marxist approach, takes a grand view of a huge area of Asia in The Art of not being Governed. Tim Ingold and Marshall Sahlins are two other original and exciting thinkers who take a step back and try to apprehend the larger scene.

Quarantine Station--Cocos (Keeling) Islands

What was it like working on the Cocos Quarantine Station? On Monday, November 28 2016, I was lucky enough to join my daughter's social science class at Cocos Islands District High School as they tried to answer this question.

National Library of Australia photo of Ostriches at Quarantine Station taken in 1995

These Grade 2-3 social scientists are uncovering local history. The topic of concern this week--the defunct Quarantine Station--once formed an important part of what we now call the 'biosecurity' of Australia. By joining them, I had the chance to learn a lot about life on the Cocos (Keeling) Islands.

Nek Diana (Nek Didi); Mr Wicks (Pak Tali); Mak Maesha

The field trip was organised by Social Studies teacher Mr Wicks. Fortunately, Nek Diana, a former employee at the Quarantine Station, agreed to give us a tour. The children had prepared all the right questions; Nek, Mak Mia and Mak Mae helped translate and keep everything running smoothly; I simply had to relax and learn.

National Library of Australia photo of Quarantine Station taken in 1995

Quarantine Station

Basically, the West Island quarantine station provided animal quarantine. Animals being imported to Australia were temporarily kept there. The animals were destined for farms and zoos. Vets could work out if the animals had diseases which could spread to Australian animals. Mostly the animals were healthy, but the workers at the station had to keep them healthy by washing, exercising,  and feeding them. The Quarantine Station apparently operated from 1981. A set of stamps was even issued, in 1996, to commemorate the Quarantine Station. 

Cocos (Keeling) Islands Quarantine Station First Day Cover

The Quarantine Station seems to have wound down in the 2000s. However, 8 elephants were housed here before being cleared for transportation, in 2006, to zoos in Sydney and Melbourne. (You can see them on Cocos in a documentary entitled Flight of the Elephants at around the 34:00 minute mark.) And, more recently, the excellent buildings were put to good use in 2012, housing Sri Lankan asylum seekers. 

Nek Didi

Nek Didi

The Quarantine Station was mostly staffed by workers from the Australian mainland. However, two Cocos Malays, in particular, worked there for many years: Nek Didi and Nek Kaya. So I was very lucky to join in Nek Didi's tour. 

The concrete for the brick buildings was laid by the Cocos Co-op under Nek Ainul and Nek Jamil. Workers from Australian mainland helped build the structures.

Before the tour began Nek Didi explained to us that the animals' blood would be tested. This would ensure that sick animals would not make it to the mainland. Either they would be cured at the Quarantine Station or put down. For larger animals, Nek Didi told us, they would use a gun. The area of the Quarantine Station is large because the animals needed space to exercise.

The tour

First, Nek Didi took us to the barn where they had a machine for making animal food. This machine mixed and pressed grass clippings to make food pellets for the sick animals.

Then we looked at the composting area, where all the waste and dead carcasses were transformed into fertiliser for the fields of the station. The composting area was behind the shed where all the hazardous materials were stored.

Shed for hazardous materials, behind which the composting occurred.

After that, Nek Didi took as into the barns where the animals were washed.

Barns for animal washing? 1995

Mr Wicks and students inspect the same (?) washing facilities in 2016.

Following this, we went to what I think is called the stocks or a stockyard, where a herd of animals is sorted into a single file, leading, ultimately, to the stocks.

Stockyard

At the stocks, the animal is held still for the sample to be taken.

Stocks

Then we saw the animal hospital and laboratory, where the blood samples were analysed.

Bacteriology desk

Finally, we headed up to the mess and single men's quarters. The mess, as the students learned, is a place where people eat. Quarters are places to live for a short while; these quarters were for men who did not have their wives with them, or were unmarried. Nek Didi sometimes resided in the single men's quarters during his working years, because his family lived on Home Island.

Mess hall

The Sri Lankan asylum seekers were temporarily housed in the single men's quarters in 2008; and they used the mess hall and kitchen.


I think this was Pak Didi's favourite part of the tour. Maybe he liked that it was all well maintained. Maybe it was because he had so many nice memories from the time after 'knocking off' (finishing work) for the day. He was very happy to see the BBQ and remember the good times

Mess hall 

Analysis: Social Studies and Social Sciences

Social studies at school typically includes history and geography. At university, students and lecturers branch this out to study political science, anthropology, sociology, politics, archaeology, and so on. Along with history and geography, these studies are called 'disciplines' at university. So, for example, politics is known as one of the disciplines. At university, some people also use the word 'social sciences' to cover all these disciplines.  

Generally, social sciences are distinguished from the 'hard sciences' such as maths, chemistry, and physics. The social sciences are concerned with human life The way social scientists work is basically the same as social studies in school. When social scientists try to understand something, like what life was like working in the Quarantine Station--they start out asking 'who, what, when, where, why, and how' questions. They try to find out how things looked to people involved; like asking Pak Didi about his life working there. They try to visit place that they write about, like going to the Quarantine Station. So whether in social studies and social sciences we use the same techniques to try to understand human life better.

Mess kitchen

One thing that my social studies experience taught me was how much life for Cocos Malays changed as they increasingly became part of Australia. I could see this in how different life was for Pak Didi. Prior to working at the quarantined station, he told me he had collected coconuts as part of the Clunies-Ross's economy. He remembered how hard his life had been; waking while it was still dark, sailing out alone on his jukong, working all day alone collecting coconuts; returning exhausted; only to be paid in the despised plastic tokens. He seemed bitter and disconsolate when remembering that life. He it was like being a fish in a tank

The contrast with work on the Quarantine Station was palpable. He was sad to see the run down state of the animals' area. But he came particularly nostalgic and content when we came to the mess and single men's quarters, which are still in pretty good shape. So I could see how Pak Didi's life experience formed a small part of the large transformation that the Cocos Malays have undergone during Pak Didi's lifetime.

The social studies trip to the Quarantine Station with Nek Didi was a great learning experience for me. It was all thanks to the planning and insight of Mr Wicks, the assistance of Mak Mae, Mak Mia and Nek; the enthusiasm of the social studies students; and, most of all, the expert guidance of Nek Didi. So thank you to Cocos District High School for allowing me join the field trip