Cannibalism. Sinister facts of Soviet history. Cave village Kome and cannibalism Abandoned village Ualu"p - Sindek village

Throughout history, cannibalism has gone hand in hand with man. This ominous phenomenon reminds us that life can be cruel and contradictory. One even gets the impression that cannibalism was created by nature itself. Take, for example, the fact that the female tarantula, after mating, kills the male and eats him entirely. Female pigs or rats eat their brood when hungry. And there are many examples of this. Unfortunately, neither did man escape this. It is unknown how other inhabitants of the planet are, but a person who has tasted human meat, without noticing it, becomes a passionate admirer of human flesh. And it is almost impossible to get rid of it.

GULAG of the Union scale

Where did the prisoners' "tradition" of eating each other in difficult times come from? We must assume that all this began in the distant pre-war years, when the entire country was turned into a huge Gulag. It was then that, after brutal purges, thousands and thousands of mostly innocent people found themselves in places of detention without heat and without food. One such place was Nazino Island in Siberia. In May 1933, about seven thousand prisoners from among the deported element were landed here.

If we discard isolated cases of cannibalism, then it was there that mass cannibalism was first recorded. Here is a quote from one book: “All over the island one could see how they cut, tear and eat human flesh. Everything around was littered with mutilated corpses.” And indeed, in order to somehow survive, the prisoners ate human corpses scattered around the island.

Immediately, those who “worked proactively” appeared - they killed the first one they came across and immediately, almost alive, ate him. It was from those terrible times that words that are usually put in quotation marks appeared in criminal use: calves, cows, canned food. For many years it was not customary for us to talk about this - after all, cannibalism could not have happened in the Soviet country!

"Canned food" for a prisoner

Cannibalism did not disappear even when everything was settled with food. The history of escapes from taiga camps is full of tragic examples when a fugitive, not knowing local conditions, found himself alone with the taiga, and died a slow and painful death from cold and hunger. Usually they prepared for an escape for a long time and thoroughly - they stocked up on warm and durable clothing, some kind of bladed weapon, and always a supply of food. But how much food can a fugitive take with him?!

There is no need to talk about getting food in the forest, because he himself becomes game. That is why an experienced prisoner, as a rule, took with him on his escape the same prisoner as himself. He took it to be eaten, as a “cow”. While still in the zone, he fed him, counting on soft and tasty meat. After all, he will have to eat this meat for more than one day, and even more than one week.

If a whole group goes on such an escape, then each of them risks their lives to one degree or another. Each of the escapees can become a cow - after all, a prisoner hungry to the point of madness does not care whether you are a friend, an authority, or a small fry. In this case, having finished with the first cow, the next one is “assigned”, then the next one.

In Kolyma, escaping in winter is equivalent to suicide, but in the summer or autumn some of the prisoners still try to escape. One day, repeat offender Semyon Bolotnikov, nicknamed Boloto, fled. He was hopelessly ill with tuberculosis, and in the depths of his soul he even dreamed of getting a bullet from the tower. But, after thinking it over, he still decided to accept death in the wild, where neither the barking of dogs nor the shouts of the guards could be heard. As canned meat, I took with me Fyodor, a young prisoner serving time for robbery. He persuaded him to escape, crushing him with his authority and the heady air of freedom. On the third day of wandering across the tundra, Semyon felt a beastly appetite. “Sorry, buddy,” he muttered and stuck a sharp blade into Fedka’s chest...

Private Prokopyev was then part of the search group, and he simply ran into Bolotnikov by accident. By this time, he had already butchered the body of his “sidekick” and was frying large pieces of meat over the fire. He held one of them in his hand, chomping loudly. Taken aback by what he saw, the soldier even forgot about his duties. Having come to his senses, he rushed at the fugitive prisoner, ready to strangle him with his bare hands. Bolot was an experienced criminal, and the meat he had just eaten gave him additional strength. Seeing a soldier flying towards him, he simply put his sharpener forward...

Death to the peasant!

So, in a country that was a large Gulag, the rules were also appropriate. The reason for the famine in villages and villages was the most commonplace. As you know, the peasant is fed by the land. When the communists came to power, the slogan “Land to the peasants!” appeared. But that was just a slogan! In fact, many peasants not only did not receive the promised land, but also lost what they had. Naturally, mass discontent arose, threatening to develop into a peasant war. The most troubled countries in this regard were Ukraine, North Caucasus and some areas of the Black Earth Region. Horrible repressions followed - by the end of 1931, about two million family members of the “kulaks” were evicted without a means of subsistence. Half of them died of starvation on the way to the places of exile or already at the place of exile. But the Soviet government did not stop there - on August 7, 1932, a murderous law was passed: for the theft of collective farm property - 10 years in camps or the death penalty!

By the way, if a hungry peasant grabbed a few remaining ears of corn from the field after harvesting, he fell under the same law. As evidenced scary statistics, then several thousand children under the age of 12 were shot for stealing spikelets. But these children simply did not want to die of hunger! And how many of their fathers and grandfathers were shot, one can only guess. And on January 22, 1933, a circular signed by Stalin and Molotov was issued. He ordered local authorities, and especially the OGPU, to prevent a massive outflow of peasants to the cities. This step cannot be called anything other than a sentence to death by starvation. And the peasant had no choice but to replenish the already large army of cannibals.

In the years of famine, real raids were carried out on cannibals. First of all, they were searched for in villages, often destroyed on the spot. So, on the collective farm. Stalin, Elanetsky district, a 10-year-old girl disappeared. Literally the next day, the cannibals were detained in the house of a 34-year-old widow. A murdered child was also found, from which the woman was going to cook food. The accused admitted that together with her partner, they killed four children within two weeks. With the help of her 8-year-old daughter, the woman invited them to her apartment, where she killed them. After that, I cooked food for myself, my partner, and my daughter.

Hunger is not a thing

A constant, maddening feeling of hunger drove people to madness and pushed them not only to eat the dead, but also to kill even their own children. Here is a terrible confession: “In 1932, together with his wife and son Zakhary, they worked 400 workdays on the collective farm, for which in the fall they received five kilograms of millet and 4 kg of flour. This was only enough for my family for five days, and for the winter we were left without funds for existence. So I killed my youngest daughter Christya - she was so exhausted that she could not even stand up. I cut the body, or rather the bones, into pieces and cooked it myself, and fed my eldest daughter Nastya. A week later I also killed Nastya - from exhaustion. I would have died anyway. I killed both the eldest and the youngest daughter while they were sleeping. I took them off the bed, laid them on the floor and cut off their heads with an ax. "

And here is an extract from the protocol of the interrogation of the peasant woman Chugunova: “I am a widow, I have four children in my arms. The youngest, 7-year-old daughter, was very sick. When hunger came, the eldest daughter gave me the idea to kill the younger, sick one. The girl could no longer get out. , and I decided to kill her. I stabbed her at night, sleeping and weak, she did not scream or resist even when she realized that she would be cut into pieces.”

According to another cannibal, Ekaterina Rubleva, at one time she and her daughter lived with a peasant woman in the village of Kamenki, Pugachevsky district. Eight people lived in the house with them. The hunger was utter, and when small children began to die, the large family, feeding on them, was able to survive. Once, when there was absolutely nothing to eat, a grandmother of about 70 years old asked to stay for the night. At night, when she was sleeping, the hostess, with a knife in her hand, called Catherine and her daughter, and with the words: “Now we will have meat again,” she ordered to hold the old woman. Rubleva began to refuse, but she threatened: “I don’t intend to remain without meat - either she or you!” The sleeping grandmother was stabbed to death and chopped into pieces, from which soup was cooked for several days. When the hostess herself fell ill and died, the Rublevs sawed her into pieces and ate her all Christmas.

Not only GPU workers with a wide network of informants, but also rural activists and doctors were involved in neutralizing the cannibals. There was even a secret directive from the GPU to charge medical workers with the duties of killing cannibals, while documenting the facts of their death. In the spring of 1933, the OGPU in the North Caucasus region reported: “From February to April 1, 108 cases of cannibalism were identified. In total, 244 people involved in cannibalism were identified, of which 49 were men, 130 women, 65 accomplices (minor family members).

Who are all these people - criminals, mentally ill? Neither one nor the other! Here is an extract from the forensic medical examination report signed by a private associate professor of Samara University: “No signs of mental disorder were found in all the examined people. Their eating of corpses was not in a state of mental disorder, but was the end of a long and progressive feeling of hunger, which broke all moral prohibitions ".

Will the war write everything off?

Little changed during the Great Patriotic War. The areas that suffered especially then were the areas where every last grain was taken for the front and Victory. On the one hand, this is how everything should be - everything for the army, everything for victory. But on the other hand, the people in the rear also forged victory! There is a saying that war will write off everything. Will she write off what happened in besieged Leningrad? Massive cases of cannibalism in the so-called cradle of the revolution were strictly classified. This is, of course, understandable: the recognition of this nightmare is insulting to the participants in the heroic defense of the city. Judging by a secret report sent to the regional party committee, in February 1942 more than 600 people were convicted of cannibalism, and in March more than a thousand people.

It should be noted that for mass cannibalism to appear in the city, it was quite necessary objective reasons. From constant hunger, many people lost their minds, and they, as they say, did not know what they were doing. The next reason can be called a sharp jump in crime. Hungry criminals, deserters and similar rabble could no longer feed themselves by raids and thefts, because the only value became food, which was practically non-existent. They also could not surrender to the authorities: according to martial law, they were expected to be shot. And the last reason for cannibalism - on the streets of the city appeared great amount ownerless corpses. They became both the main reason for the appearance of numerous cannibals and their desired object.

The situation was no better in other regions. The first case of cannibalism in Chelyabinsk region took place in the city of Zlatoust. On January 1, 1943, a dismembered male corpse was discovered in the house of a certain Grigory Antonov. It was neatly folded into a bag and buried in the underground. Antonov, detained on suspicion of murder, confessed to the crime. Mikhail Leontyev, who lived with him, turned out to be killed, whom he hacked to death with an ax in order to take possession of his bread card. But bread without meat is supposedly not food, and Antonov cut off the dead man’s head, sawed himself into pieces and hid it in the underground for a rainy day. He ate the heart, lungs, kidneys and liver along with his wife and children.

In total, several dozen cases of cannibalism were investigated in the Chelyabinsk region in 1943. Perhaps the most terrible of them happened in the Nyazepetrovsky district. Polina Shulgina, having two young children in her arms, was left without work and livelihood. She found herself in such a difficult situation, she and her children ate slop - there was not even a dried crust of bread in the house. Reaching complete despair, the woman strangled six-year-old Dima and eleven-year-old Igor, and for some time consumed their meat as food.

Vladimir Lotokhin, Zlatoust

#cannibals,#lotokhin,#rainbow

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RETURN TO THE CANNIBALS: PEOPLE IN THE IRON TREES. TRAVEL NOTES ABOUT PAPUA (INDONESIA). Day 10. September 13th, 2018

Day 10. Morning in an abandoned Korowai village

ABANDONED VILLAGE OF UALU"P - VILLAGE OF SINDEK

Hero of the day: SILAN SINDEK, VILLAGE ELDER

I woke up before the alarm clock to the conversation of Korowai around the fire and rare drops of rain falling on the palm roof. Here, at a latitude of about 5 degrees south of the equator, it rains twice a day, sometimes breaking its course. own schedule.

After the overnight rain, my photographic equipment became damp again, the camera was going crazy, losing settings and not focusing on objects.
I hastily laid out the camera, lenses, flash, cases and bag by the fire to dry. Twenty minutes later the camera came to life.

One of the porters again caught a few perch and a decent sized turtle. He has an iron lance and scuba diving goggles. At all stops, he dives into the river and gets himself shrimp and fish.
Porters are not willing to share their catch after hunting and fishing, even with other porters. Despite the fact that they left their tribes in search of income, some of their habits and principles did not change significantly.

The village of Ualu"p, where we stopped for the night, includes, among other things, several guest houses, including a longhouse, which are used by the Korowai during festivals. Such festivals are held annually in different regions and bring together the Korowai from different tribal groups.
Usman said that after looking around in the morning, he remembered this village. He was here five years ago.

The high-rise buildings themselves, which the porters and Usman spoke about, are located in walking distance, there is quite a full-flowing river on the arrow, which, of course, is also not on any of the maps.
On the right bank there is a house about 7 meters high, and a few meters from it on a tree, the second one is about fifteen meters high.
The stairs, like the houses themselves, were significantly rotten. The stairs literally fall apart the first time you try to use them. People abandoned the village a long time ago.

Korowai abandon a village or house in two cases: a dead person in the house or exhaustion natural resources in the district, on which the Korowai depend primarily on the sago palm.
But there is a third reason for leaving villages, which, however, cannot be considered widespread.
Usman recounted an incident in one village where a Korowai girl married a man and the other man killed her out of jealousy because he could not accept it. The mother of the murdered girl cursed the killer and the village. People began to die one by one. Eventually, the Korowai left this village. One of the remaining high-rise buildings in that village can be seen from a boat on the left along the Siret River below the village of Mabul.

The house on the other bank in the abandoned village of Ualu" looks proud, in the place where the river diverges into two.
At a height of 25 meters there is a very large dwelling for two families with sloping stairs, which, of course, are also rotten.

Only after crossing to the other side of the river can you see the tallest Korowai house nestled in the crown of an iron tree, overgrown with fresh shoots on all sides. It is estimated that it was built at an altitude of about 30 meters. The staircase is completely missing. Obviously, it rotted over several years and fell apart.
In New Guinea's extremely humid climate, the Korowai repair the rotting staircases of their homes every year.

Judging by the condition of the newest house here, built closer to the ground, people left the village about a year ago.
Our guides could not know about this.

After swimming in the river with a pebble bottom and clear, cool water, we went out into the jungle in search of another village, mentioned by the guides as Sindek. The road promised to be simple, especially bearing in mind yesterday’s hair-raising trek that lasted a full equatorial day.
After about two hours we came to a village with two houses built relatively low above the ground. Korowai are building houses less and less in the crowns of tall trees, since there is almost no rivalry for territory and hostility between them. Of the 3 thousand Korowai who lived in this region 10 years ago, today no more than half live authentically.

There was no one in the village. Porter, who visited the house, came with the news that the house was residential, but apparently everyone had gone into the jungle to mine sago.

For almost four hours, swimming in the river, drinking instant cappuccino, swimming again, and drinking something again, drying all our clothes, writing notes, taking pictures of the village, we barely waited for Usman to go in search of a guide.
Our porters did not know the further road to Sindek.

Usman returned to the thread wet, with the look of a driven horse, barely dragging his feet. Our Korowai porters walk too fast, even for Usman. As it turned out, he was forced to go to the river, where there are always a large number of Korowai in search of a “better life”, in order to find a guide to Sindek.
He returned with guides. An hour later we were in the village of Sindek.

Sindek is another Korowai village of one house, in which two families live: they have three or four children between them.
As it turned out, these people built new house on a tall tree, deep in the jungle, about three hours away, but now they live here. By majority vote, it was decided to change the route and skip an overnight stay at the Chitaki in favor of an additional night in new village Sindek. The disadvantage of this solution was the need to return on the last day from the depths, which would take at least 6 hours, and then sail for about 12 hours to Dekai, at best until midnight.

At my request, Usman arranged for an evening interview at his home with Silan Sindek, the oldest member of this tribal group.

One of the lowest houses we encountered in one trip, no more than 4-5 meters high from the ground, was built around the trunk of a thick tree. The owners themselves say that the house is old, in poor condition, and recently there was a case of its collapse.

Outwardly, everything looked quite tolerable, and at the appointed time, already in the night, when the Korowai had cooked their sago and had dinner, we climbed up the familiar Korowai pole with notches into their house. Because there were so many people in the house, the owners began to panic, and the porters and women began to leave the house one by one. Silan Sindek panicked and also jumped down. Usman demanded an urgent retreat, because someone thought that we might collapse.

Outside, the rain was falling like a wall. I went down after Usman, who continued his discussion with the owner of the house. It immediately became clear that it was still possible to enter the house, but only no more than three people.
Climbing back and forth in the pouring rain, while loaded with a camera, a backpack, a photo tripod and a sleeping bag, was not part of my plans. But this was a chance.

Of the owners, only Silan remained in the house. Usman took with him a translator from the Korowai language into Bahasa Indonesia. Misha and I got up and placed the flashlights as light in the photo studio for video recording and photography.

Silan Sindek was sitting by the fire, his dog lying behind him. Obviously, he felt more comfortable communicating with strangers in her presence.

We introduced ourselves and offered Silan a treat from Russia - condensed milk. After punching a hole in a tin can, we suggested the owner try it. “Mano”, Silan said and drank a few more times.

We talked with him about topics that interested us, asking questions in English, Usman translated into Bahasa Indonesia, porter into the Korowai language, and received an answer in the reverse order.

Silan has lived in this forest since his grandfather was alive. He doesn't know his age, but Usman says Silan is about forty-five.
The village itself is named after his clan's family name, Sindek. Korowai is the name of a people given to them by other people. The Korowai themselves never call themselves that. They call themselves "colufo".

In the back corner of the men's room in the Sindek house there is a wooden shield with primitive painting. This shield serves to identify the clan. All Korowai always bring their shields to the annual sago festival.

According to Silan Sindak, the Korowai build houses at the top because it helps protect themselves from wild animals, other tribes and evil spirits.

Many traditions have fallen into oblivion, at least in this Korowai village. According to the guide, the Korowai in his clan no longer engage in cannibalism. As far as he knows, such cases may still occur among certain tribal groups, but as a widespread practice, cannibalism is a thing of the past.

One of the obvious reasons for cannibalism among the Korowai, according to their culture, was the eating of a sorcerer - a person who practices magic, sorcery. Silan Sindak says that nowadays, with the cessation of the practice of cannibalism, the Korowai are still afraid of sorcerers and try to stay away from them.

The Korowai religion is based on animist beliefs, a belief in various kinds of spirits, both good and evil. Evil spirits are feared by the Korowai, and cannibalism has historically been aimed at driving them out and destroying them, be they a sorcerer or an enemy.
Particular attention is paid to the spirits of ancestors in Korowai beliefs.

On difficult days for the tribe, for example, discord with another tribe or within the clan, the Korowai sacrifice a domestic pig, the blood and fat of which, according to legend, goes to their god Refafu, and the meat is eaten by the Korowai themselves.
The sacrificial killing of a pig takes place near the river, with a bow shot into the animal's heart. The blood flows into the river. Before shooting an animal, the Korowai recite aloud the three most important elements: Fire, Water and Air.

Women are not allowed to attend or in any way observe the ritual. Otherwise the sacrifice will be ineffective. After the completion of the sacrificial ritual, there is a ban on anyone entering the river for two days. It is believed that Refafu will drink the blood of a pig that has flowed into the river in order, as the Korowai believe, to absorb all its passion.

It is noteworthy that domesticated Korowai pigs are killed exclusively sacrificially.

Once in their life, every Korowai clan considers it their duty to organize a festival with big amount invited clans. It is believed that in this way, in a ritual form, it will help the Korowayas achieve prosperity and fertility for their clan.

The Korowai believe in the transmigration of souls: those who die can be returned to their homeland by the clan leader at any time. land of the dead back to native land, reincarnated as a newly born baby in their own clan. The closest connection between the Korowai and the clan can be traced even in such an element of belief as reincarnation.

When we asked Silan about the Christian missionaries, his face changed and he said that they came to this land to destroy the Colufo culture, and with it all their people.

While by far the main food source is sago, the Korowai also hunt what lives in the river and in the jungle, including wild pigs and cassowary birds. Behind last years The number of cassowaries on the island has decreased significantly.

The relations between men and women among the Korowai are very strict, and gender segregation is noticeable in everything. Any house is necessarily divided into two halves: male and female. A husband and wife do not communicate privately in public, only in solitude.
Silan says that since their women wear skirts and hide their genitals, the man should not show his genitals either. Therefore, dutamon and bayak appeared in the Korowai culture. This is exactly how his grandfather and great-grandfather tied the dutamon, and that’s why he, Silan Sindek, does it that way.

The leader in the Korowai tribal group, which most often consists of two families, can become the so-called “strong man”. Such leadership is not institutional, but can be held by anyone who exercises himself appropriately, demonstrating in word and deed strength, courage, intelligence, spirit and generosity.

Speaking with Silan, you still understand and become convinced that these people are incredibly harmonious, extremely positive, their connection with nature is absolute, their principles are fair, their values ​​are eternal.

At some point, it became clear that Silan was falling asleep; he blinked continuously, leaving his eyes closed for some time. It was already closer to midnight.

We thanked Silan and went down the pole from his house. Usman stayed in the Korowai house for some time.
There was nowhere to pitch a third tent; it was past midnight. I hung a mosquito net under the canopy, laid foam and a sleeping bag on top of freshly cut palm leaves, and, satisfied with the end of the day, set off for the land of fools.

These sleek and well-kept mud cave houses are located near the village of Mateka in Lesotho. Although they look brand new, these houses were built almost two hundred years ago and have been continuously inhabited by generations of descendants primitive people, who built them in the early 19th century. The cave village of Kome lies off the beaten tourist path, as is typical of almost anywhere in the landlocked country of Lesotho.

Lesotho was originally inhabited by the Sotho-Tswana people when the Zulu began attacking villages and encroaching on their land, forcing the Sotho to flee to the mountains. Continuous attacks by the Zulu forced the local tribes to unite in defense, and by 1824, choose their own king. This difficult time of widespread chaos and war is known as Difakan, and is one of the darkest periods in Lesotho's history. It was during Difakan that the terrible practice of cannibalism arose.

Predatory raids, exacerbated by drought, caused famine so severe that groups of people in several parts of Lesotho began to eat each other. What initially began as hunger eventually became habit as cannibals developed a taste for human flesh. It was assumed that the cannibals formed squads and went out every day in search of victims. Missionary Ellenberger, who visited Lesotho in the 1860s, estimated that there were about 4,000 active cannibals in Lesotho between 1822 and 1828, each of whom ate an average of one person per month. Extrapolating from these figures, he arrives at a staggering 288,000 people who were victims of cannibalism. Overall, between one and two million people died due to the war over a ten-year period.

To escape the terrible death and cannibalism, a handful of tribesmen fled to what is now the cave city of Ha Kome and built mud houses inside the cave. The mud houses are located under a huge overhanging rock with a stone wall that serves as one of the walls for the house. The king of the community himself was personally affected by cannibalism - his own grandfather was kidnapped and eaten as they passed through the cannibals' territories. When the king learned about the tragedy, instead of taking revenge, he decided to make peace with the cannibals. The story goes that Moshoeshe instructed his warriors to capture the cannibals without harming them. The captured cannibals were then given a sumptuous feast, at the end of which Moshousho offered each of them a cow and a plot of land to build a house on.

King Moshoeshoe was a shrewd, benevolent leader whose tact was ahead of his time. It has been suggested that diplomacy may have influenced modern leaders South Africa, and the example of Moshoeshi and the cannibals is compared to Nelson Mandela's act of reconciliation with Betsy Verwoerd, wife of South African Prime Minister and apartheid architect Hendrik Verwoerd. Cannibalism died in the late 1830s, but these stories survive in traditions, songs, and in literary works and historical texts. You can admire Africa in photographs in one of the feeds on LifeGlobe, which also contains Interesting Facts about this region.

The author reports from the village of cannibals. Here they still live according to the rules adopted 5 thousand years ago: men go naked, and women cut off their fingers. It’s better not to say what they eat...
…The POLICE OFFICER carefully examined my documents once again. To his great regret, they were fine. Sighing, the lieutenant took hold of the lilac bird seal.
“Still, I wouldn’t advise you to go there,” he said in a voice full of grief.
- Why? — I asked naively.
— The people there are specific. This year alone, three foreigners disappeared, and we couldn’t even count how many locals there were: the jungle around us was simply impenetrable. For example, a month ago a tourist from China disappeared. More recently, we came across it in the area inhabited by the Karafai tribe - the so-called “tree people”.
“Well, you see,” I rejoiced. - We found it after all!
“Yeah,” the policeman readily agreed. “All that was left of him was a head without a lower jaw, a knee and two pieces of meat with marks of teeth.” However, it’s up to you...
The seal fell on the pass with a dull thud, faintly imprinting: “Wamena and the valley of the Baliem River. Allowed to visit."
Dried head the size of a tomato
...Deep into the Indonesian province of Papua (located in the west of the island New Guinea) you can’t even get through it in a tank: the wilderness is impassable, dense tropical vegetation almost completely blocks the sun. Black swamps supply hordes of malarial mosquitoes, and poisonous snakes hang in clusters from vines. Light Fokker-type planes fly between the villages; there is no other connection - it can take a month to get from one town to another along slippery paths in the rain forests. It is no wonder that research expeditions in the New Guinea jungle still stumble upon tribes that have never seen a white man. In 2002, Australian scientists discovered houses woven from roots hanging over a mountain river, where about two hundred people lived - a tribe unknown to science who worshiped gods in the form of mushrooms. They were civilized relatively quickly - however, the first Protestant missionary who arrived from Korea was baked by the “mushroom people” in a pit with sweet potatoes and eaten during the “rain dance”, but the second somehow incredibly managed to christen them.
...The Dutch colonial authorities, to whom Papua belonged until the sixties of the 20th century, waged a serious struggle against the culinary preferences of the local population - but without much success. In 1960, the Papuans of the Dani tribe managed to have a bite with an official delegation led by the assistant vice-governor, who came to meet the new leader. Now the situation has changed for the better: cases of cannibalism among forest Papuan tribes are becoming less and less frequent every year.
Wamena police believe that about forty people were eaten over these nine months. Indonesia is the only country in the world where there is a police force to investigate cases of cannibalism: they mostly occur in Borneo island, where bloodthirsty Dayak tribes desiccate victims' heads to the size of tomatoes. Living in tropical forests The Papuans of New Guinea are considered calmer: the natives do not kill people just for pleasure. However, they often get into heated arguments with the police over whether they can or cannot eat their neighbors' roasts.
- You will laugh, but many tribes that have a normal attitude towards cannibalism have long been converted to Christianity! - Police officer Martin Soputri throws up his hands. “Protestant missionaries from Holland baptized them and drove back, and they don’t care what happens next.” We went to a mountain tribe, where they recently ate a woman. We called the leader in for questioning and shamed him: how can you do this? You are Christians! And he answered me indignantly: but we didn’t kill her, she drowned in the river herself. And in general, they say, nowhere in the Bible does it say that it is wrong to eat people.
Most of the problems are with the aforementioned Karafai tribe. His warriors live in tree houses - narrow, like birdhouses, at a height of 20 meters from the ground, which is why they are called “tree people”. Sometimes in the same river where the remains were found Chinese tourist, completely gnawed skeletons are found.
The short natives of the Yali mountain tribe, famous for their fighting ferocity, are also periodically accused of cannibalism. The remaining tribes are considered “civilized” - if cannibalism occurs there, it is for a purely prosaic reason - for example, there was a serious failure of the sweet potato harvest. Then they can decorate the table with a warrior from a neighboring village. Tribes fight among themselves so often and for so long that sometimes they themselves forget why. It is difficult to track such cannibal feasts and disappearances of people in remote tribes. Ordinary Papuans do not have passports: only leaders have them, and even then not always.

The poor guy was smoked on the fire for a long time
...IN THE VILLAGE OF WAMENA, it feels like someone has played tricks with a time machine, mixing the Stone Age and modernity. Naked Papuan men walk along the asphalt, past motorcycles and banks, “dressed” only in a pumpkin jockstrap. Women move past them with bare breasts, in skirts made of palm leaves, with bunches of bananas on their heads (boar tusks stuck into their hair). Representatives of the mountain tribes often descend into the valley, walking 15 kilometers barefoot, to make in-kind exchanges at the market. Papuans also attend the city church naked, ignoring the pastor’s protests: kneeling down, the women make the sign of the cross with terrible stubs of their fingers. Accepting Protestantism does not in the least prevent them from observing ancient customs - cutting off their finger as a sign of grief when a beloved relative dies.

...It took me a while to find a guide who could help me get to the village of the ferocious Yali tribe: they asked me for unrealistic sums, explaining this as a “risk” - if the leader doesn’t like us, they’ll bake me with potatoes. Only after a day of bargaining did I manage to hire a local Papuan guide for $200. He was so civilized that he wore underpants and knew a little English. We walked to the tribe's camp for half a day, the escort kept stopping me with his hand so that I wouldn't step on the snake. In a sack behind his back, a piglet squealed, bought on the advice of an experienced guide - in order to appease the leader. When the tribal huts covered with palm leaves appeared in the distance, I could barely stand on my feet, and my sneakers were almost falling apart. Suddenly I pulled back and people rose up from the grass to meet us. Already black, they were smeared with mud, and one was covered with white spots, like a special forces officer. As it turned out, the approaches to any village are guarded by sentries. At that same second, the “special forces” tore the bow from his shoulder, and before I had time to come to my senses, a bamboo arrow whistled into the tree next to my head. The Papuans laughed, clapping the shooter on the shoulder. “It’s okay, they’re just joking,” the conductor, whose lips were trembling, reassured. “Nice people,” I thought, looking at the swinging arrow. “It looks like this is just the beginning.” I was not mistaken. Bending over, the “spotted one” deftly removed the crumpled body of a man from the grass: we heard the smell that smoked sausage usually gives off. Even from a distance it was clear that the poor thing had been smoked over low heat for a long time. “I got it,” flashed through my head, and with stiff fingers I unfastened the phone from my belt. He did not work…

One day the idea came to me to go somewhere, to leave my dusty and noisy city for a while; I was tired of work, of all this running around. In one day I collected everything I needed: a compass, matches, a tent, fire mixture, food for a week, a map and a watch. But the question arose: where to go? I decided that it was best to go to the mountains, where the air is fresh and not so noisy. I remember from school that there are small mountains almost a thousand kilometers from our city.
I went in my car, the path was difficult, I drove almost without stopping, just to refuel and eat at the same time. I had to spend the night in the car, since it was scary to drive at night, and even alone, I lay down in the back seats and fell asleep. In the morning, through the windshield I saw my destination - the mountains. They were barely visible, but I was definitely close. The road went through a dense forest, but it was so beautiful. The leaves were yellow, there were a lot of bushes, there was even a small stream not far from the road, it’s a pity that there was no time to stop and take a better look at everything. The road got worse with every kilometer, the asphalt was literally falling apart, there were a lot of potholes, I finally ran into one, it felt like nothing had been repaired here for fifteen years.
In the distance I noticed someone and a car next to him. I was very surprised when I saw that it was a traffic police officer. He pulled out his staff and demanded to stop. Where is he here from? I parked on the side of the road next to him.

Sergeant Dobryansky, you were speeding, let me look at your documents.
- Excess? I didn't see a sign along the way, where is it?
- How come you didn’t see it? There he is, around the bend. Okay, go while I’m good, and there’s enough to do without you.

He surprised me, standing here alone, in such a wilderness. But, apparently, he really had something to do, since he ran so quickly into the car, and my arrival point was getting closer. Then there was a straight road with a view of the mountains; they turned out to be not so small as they told me.
The car suddenly stopped. The gasoline ran out, but how could that be? I filled the tank full at the last gas station, but it turned out that the gas tank was leaking and all the gasoline was left on the road. I returned to the traffic police post, but the sergeant was not there, I shouted to him, but no one responded. The car was locked, I had to return to my own. I took my things and went on foot.

After about 20 minutes I saw a village standing to the right of the road. My surprise knew no bounds - the village was in the middle of the forest, I was scared, but I needed help. It was a strange village, there was no road inside, the houses were small, close to each other, old, without windows, some were skewed. I climbed over the small fence and knocked on the door, barely audible footsteps heading towards the door. A slightly thin young man opened the door to me, his left hand was twitching nervously, he was dressed in a torn shirt and jeans torn at the knees, but his feet were bare.

My car broke down not far from here, do you have gas? I can pay you.
- Y-y-yes, yes, c-c-come into the house, I’ll c-c-call my father.

The inside of the house looked no better than the outside. There was no wallpaper, but there were shelves with canned goods, where did the owner get all this? Since there were no windows, light was provided by kerosene lamps. There was no furniture as such, only a chair and a small sofa, the floor consisted of ordinary boards, with only a bear skin in the center.

Since they have kerosene lamps, that means they also have gasoline, I thought.

This young man brought me a glass of water. I was a little disgusted, the glass didn’t look clean, but I drank anyway, I didn’t want to waste my water. I threw my backpack on the floor and sat down on the sofa, without even noticing how I fell asleep.
I woke up in almost complete darkness, turned on the backlight on the clock, 17:47. There is a hole in my memory, I don’t remember anything after I entered the house. It was damp here, I could hear laughter and conversation coming from somewhere, very quietly, you couldn’t make out anything, as if someone was feasting, I became scared, I realized that I was not in the house at all, and my things had been stolen.

Hey, man, I’m here... - came a hoarse and quiet voice.
- What?! Who is this?! Where I am?!
- Don’t shout, they don’t like it, look for my flashlight, turn it on, I can’t do that.

I began to look for a lantern, barely found it, it burned dimly, I looked around a little to understand where I was. I was most likely in the basement. There was a man lying against the wall, he had no hands, he was covered in blood, like all his clothes.

What the...?! What's wrong with your hands?! Is that what they are?!
- Hush, hush, I told you, they don’t like screaming. I just wanted to spend the night with them, and the next morning I found myself here. I screamed, tried to break down the door, and then they came and cut off my hands. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, maybe 4 days.
- Who are these people?
- I don’t know... Cannibals, perhaps.

I started to panic, I didn’t know what to do, my heart was pounding, and the sweat was flowing like a river. I went up the steps and tried to knock down the door. I pulled myself together, decided not to give in to fear, sat down on the step and began to think about my actions. Footsteps were heard approaching. The door opened sharply, there was a girl in gray rags with long, slightly dark hair.

Stop, don't be afraid, I will help you, follow me.

This was my only chance. I went upstairs, pointed at that man, she just shrugged her shoulders and pointed her finger at the forest. Without thinking, I took off and ran faster than any runner. I soon became exhausted and stopped to catch my breath. It was already getting dark, I had no idea where to go next. Not far to the left I could see a light, it was moving, it was them, with torches, looking for me. One of them noticed me, shouted, and a group of 6 people chased me. The forest was almost flat, there were only small depressions, so I ran quickly, and also under adrenaline. I was able to break away from them and ended up on the road next to the traffic police post, with that sergeant standing nearby.

Sergeant! What's going on here? Some crazy people are chasing me!
“We’re not crazy, we’re hungry,” after that he took a knife out of his pocket.

He swung a knife at me, but I managed to intercept his hand and hit him in the face, he immediately fell without moving. The car was open, I began to look for any means of communication. There was only a walkie-talkie that didn’t work and only produced static. I rummaged in the glove compartment and found a pistol, took it and wanted to run away from here, but these cannibals were already standing on the road, the sergeant also stood up, they were armed with spears, pitchforks, and bows. I pointed the pistol at them and shot at one, he fell, and the whole flock of them rushed towards me screaming. I shot all the bullets at them, but they took me in quantity and beat me, they took me and dragged me into the forest. After some time, I saw a large wall made of logs, from behind it came screams, laughter, drums, and smoke was visible. I was brought there, there were a lot of them, they were running around a large fire, some of them were sitting on the ground and beating drums, they were all dressed in bright clothes, there were peculiar kitchens with a canopy, where a butcher with a knife was cutting up human bodies, and cannibals they came and took the pieces. I was dragged to a large man who was looking at the fire, next to him stood the same girl who had let me out.

Take him to the cage, after the holiday is over, I’ll deal with him myself,” the girl said.
- My daughter! All about me! Make him suffer for a long time.

I was tied to a wooden post. Their holiday lasted almost the whole night; they ate bodies and mocked living people and animals. When there was no one left, I saw this girl again, she ran up to me and untied me, I fell weakly to the floor, and she tried to lift me.

Why are you helping me?
- Because I’m not like them, I wasn’t born here, they caught me as a child, when my father and I went on vacation, but they left me to live with them, they wanted to give me my upbringing, but they killed my father.

Somehow I got to my feet, she was leading me somewhere, I had no choice but to follow her.

What's your name anyway? I don't even know your name.
“I don’t remember my real name, but they call me Cerra.”
- Okay, Cerra. Where are we going?
- Until the police car, our patrolman is not there now, I will give you the keys to it, you will leave and never come back here.
- What about you? Come with me, if they find out that you let me out, they will kill you.
- I can’t, this place has become native to me, here I spent my life, here I will die. Here we are.

Cerra gave me the keys, I started the car, there was little gas.

Traitor! - came a cry.

An arrow hit Cerra in the back from the bushes. I wanted to take her with me and take her to the hospital, but she told me to drop it and leave. I turned around and pressed the gas pedal to the floor, drove and, without looking back, blamed myself for the death of Cerra, because I could have helped, I could, she died because of me.
I got to the first gas station, from there I called the police and called a taxi to go back home.

 

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