New Guinea Aboriginal Face Mutations

I mentioned in one of my previous posts where I addressed the subject of worm farming, that I would talk about one of my other passions, New Guinea Aboriginal Face Mutations. Since I have had several requests to expose this little known ritual, I’ll take the time here to do so. Actually, I may have overstated when I said I’ve had several requests. It was more like some......well, maybe one or two.........ok, none,.... so what? I’m going to write about it anyway. The picture above, is not of my inlaws, as you may be thinking, although I can see how you may be confused, but, is rather, a rendering of some natives showing off their gender markings.

Where does one start when writing about New Guinea Aboriginal Face Mutations? I suppose the beginning would be a logical place since starting at the end would be more than confusing. But, before we delve into the history of, for brevity we’ll call NGAFM, let’s take a quick look at what it is. NGAFM, is a form of face mutating long thought of as extinct. It is rarely seen anymore, but is sometimes still practiced in the depths of the New Guinea jungle. The practice is a form of the rites of passage for young men and women as they reach marrying age and are starting out on the jungle dating circuit. As one would imagine, the male and female disfigurement differs by gender, allowing the casual observer the ability to differentiate between the sexes. Since the women in the New Guinea jungle wear nothing above the waist except a smile, one may wonder why a different method of determining gender is required. These are simple folks and some things just elude them. So, a difference in face mutilations is required. To save time, and for some of you who may be a bit squeamish, we’ll look only at the male mutilation.

The young man, as he comes of age, which many of you may know in the New Guinea jungle is at the age of twelve years and three months, is taken from his family and placed in a small sweat hut, where he is left for three days, sweating. This prepares him for the coming rituals by making him stinky, hungry and dehydrated, not to mention extremely irritated. Once he is pulled from the sweat hut, he is shackled and tied to a long pole stuck into the ground near the middle of the village. This is done because of the, afore mentioned, extreme irritation. After he is secured, he is prepared for the mutilation ceremony. This preparation consists of an application of a poultice of herbs prepared by the village witch doctor who also doubles as the latrine security officer and chief mutilator. After the herbs and assorted witch doctory things take their effect, rendering the young man’s face and torso devoid of feeling, the witch doctor returns to the young man stuck on the pole and begins the ceremony. The entire village population forms a circle around the young man, who resembles an angry center piece, and chants. I’d include the words here, but they are not to be repeated outside of the circle under the penalty of really bad things happening to the blabber. But, suffice it to say, they are words of encouragement - not for the boy, but for the witch doctor/ latrine security officer / chief mutilator. The wiry little man works himself into a dither by dancing around chanting phrases such as, "Nactose, woambo, botsa, which is roughly translated as "I hope this works this time." He then adeptly applies his magic and messes up the face of the young man.

Cheers fill the air as the young man, dazed and shaken, is untied and reunited with his family. All the young women surround him, admiring his new, mutilated face, giggling as they whisper among themselves about how handsome the new victim is. Many of the young women, their own faces mutilated, are hoping for a chance to date the new male on the circuit. As is the custom, a young woman attaches a large mud ball covered with hundreds of tiny mirrors to a tall tree limb and the entire tribe dances under the ball for hours into the night. This, as you are no doubt aware, was where disco started.

I hope this brief essay will elicit some excitement about this ancient practice found in the New Guinea jungle. Then, I’ll have someone to talk to about the intricacies of a strange, but fascinating ritual. So, dear readers, study and delve into this amazing subject and we’ll talk later.