mountain orange and other varieties
of local citrus thorns. They are expertly
hand-tapped into the skin.
Female Kalinga tattoo patterns
are inspired by everyday objects and
nature: rice bundles, rice terrace steps,
bamboo shelves, woven grass mats,
ferns, rattan fruit, a star or moon, and
snake or centipede scales are used. The
latter two designs are dominant in both
men’s and women’s tattooing because
of their significance in Kalinga myth.
Whang-Od reported they were “friends
of the warriors” (bulan ti mangayaw)
because of the powerful omens they
once delivered on the warpath.
Although missionaries compelled
many tattooists to cease their work
decades ago, Whang-od and her much
younger apprentices continue to tattoo
traditional Kalinga patterns. But today,
her clientele is largely non-Kalinga in
origin and includes flocks of domestic
and foreign tourists who visit her village
nearly every day throughout the year to
be tattooed by a living legend.
She says, “If Kalinga tattooing
stops, we will lose an important part of
our culture that has been handed down
from generation to generation. Whether
it is shared among us or with outsiders,
to us, it is our ancestors’ legacy, and it
defines who we are as a people, so we
must continue.”
Inked into the afterlife
Unlike Whang-Od, most of the
indigenous tattoo artists living on the
island of Borneo have not practiced in
decades; missionaries compelled them
to discard these cultural traditions
in the 1950s. Nevertheless, several
tattooed female elders recounted
their experiences and described the
elaborate ceremonial practice once
attached to this ancient tradition.
Before Kayan tribal tattooing was
eliminated, women believed that tattoo
designs acted as torches after death,
leading them through the darkness of
the afterlife to the longhouses of their
beloved ancestors.
LEfT Tattoos of Kayan
elder Avok Avun
showing the encircled
lukut bead design
boTTom Tlie Ngo, one
of the last Kayan men
bearing traditional
tattoos (left) and
Long Anak Jimbak
(right) in Sarawak
Kayan tattooing was largely female-
centric, although male warriors were
tattooed, too. The process was a long
and painful one, sometimes lasting
as long as four years. Several elders
explained the implications of flowing
blood released during the rite.
“It attracted evil spirits,” said former
Kayan tattooist Ping Saram. “So there
were prohibitions to regulate this.”
For instance, girls could not be tattooed
during menstruation or when a corpse
was present in the village.
“Kayan tattooists worked under the
tutelage and protection of two spirits,”
said Hunyang Lisang, a female Kayan
priest, or dayong. “They were invoked
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