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Gift Exchange as Sensory Experience Among the Anganen.


Gift exchange among the Anganen of the Southern Highlands Province (PNG) may be a complex, multifaceted sensory experience for participants and audience alike. This article primarily looks at the sensory dimensions of the organisation of space, with attention also given to sound, the immense heat of large pork distributions and the possibility of heightened emotional states such as trepidation or expectation that may feature in some events. These provide the ambience for the specific meaning of exchange to emerge. I compare a number of exchanges primarily through focusing on what I term politicisation (which may variously concern prestige, the degree of social opposition, or the amount of aggression displayed). Be it through contextual factors, or the inherent structural orientation of any exchange, political intensity varies due to different manifestations of sensory criteria. Gender and space are a major focus. In events that lack overt political intensity such as the marriage ceremony, women occupy centre stage. However, in more overtly politically intense events such as the yasolu ceremonial pork distribution, it is men who command centrality. As far as sound is concerned, while oration may feature, most interest is directed at the role of silence at marriage, the keening of women mourners at mortuary exchange, and a number of non-discursive utterances by men in politically intense events that express aggression or exuberant pride. The argument is that these are not incidental but constitutive aspects of the politics of exchange. As such, the sensory dimensions of sight concern more than just the amount of wealth given, while the audible dimensions must go beyond oration alone.


The extensive literature on gift exchange in Melanesia has produced excellent accounts of its material and strategic dimensions. Similarly a great deal has been written on the role of oration. These aspects are often linked when addressing the articulation of power, be it within male hierarchies or for gender relations. The importance of these concerns for what exchange may be about is undeniable. However, less attention has been given to the less obvious sensory dimensions of exchange, the full range of its sights, sounds, silences, and perhaps smells that also help construct its meaning, including the politics of prestige and perhaps aggression that exchange may generate.

My intention here is to treat gift exchange among the Anganen of the Southern Highlands Province of Papua New Guinea, as a far more nuanced and complex performance of which wealth quantity and male strategy are just part. The principal focus of this article concerns how space, especially in relation to gender, and perhaps sound, including non-literal utterances and silence, may feature in a number of forms of gift exchange Some attention will also be given to other sensory aspects such as heat and smell. My interest lies in how these, in and of themselves and relative to each other, form part of the ambience of exchange. This ambience provides the setting for how those involved or witnessing such events render them meaningful in ways that largely defy detailed exegetical explanation. One product of this meaning ambience is what I have elsewhere called degrees of politicisation (Nihill 1996a). By this I mean that, comparatively, some exchanges are inherently more open to explicit quests for individual prestig e and perhaps stylised aggression than others where the political remains largely implicit. Conventional exchanges pertaining to marriage typify the latter, while a progressive shift through mortuary exchanges to the yasolu ceremonial pork distribution highlights how this intensified politicisation process takes place.

The significance of gender in Melanesia is reflected in the way it encodes meaning through the categorisation of a vast array of physical and social phenomena. Space is one instance of this. The gender of space has thus been widely noted for such things as high and low dichotomies (e.g., Buchbinder and Rappaport 1976; Ernst 1978), residential patterns, and the oppositions of village, garden, and bush (e.g.., Bulmer 1972; Gell 1975; Godelier 1986:10-1). These, in turn have been closely linked to the articulation of power and male dominance (see also Sturzenhoefecker 1998:144-8). In the main, the discussions of gender and space have been categorical. I also begin my treatment of space and exchange through the way space is categorised in absolute terms, namely how the village, as the site for most gift exchange, forms the backdrop for various gendered spatial relationships to emerge.

The meanings of these juxtapositions are not absolute, but emergent in practice and relative to each other. It is the difference between the spatial relationships established in the various exchanges that is key to their varying political intensity. The main focus is on the ways in which centre and periphery are deployed in the differing exchange forms under consideration. In events that lack intense politicisation, non-transactors dominate the centre; the bride in bridewealth or the corpse surrounded by keening women during mortuary compensation. Conversely, as politicisation increases, it is the male transactors who appropriate the centre. This is most notable with the preparations for the cooking of yasolu pork where the oppressive heat of the cooking pits or the all but chaotic slaughter of hundreds of pigs are, at least in male ideology, regarded as too physically taxing and terrifying for women (and children) to endure.

The role of oration and the right to speak publicly also feature in discussions of gender and power in Melanesia (e.g., see Lederman 1980; A.Strathern 1971; M.Strathern 1972). Oration too may feature in Anganen exchange. However, just as important may be the absence of talk or non-discursive utterances that the Anganen say have no meaning in that they defy further explanation. I shall argue they have meaning only in themselves and defy translation. These utterances say things that in many respects should not be openly said to exchange partners or allies but still indicate the political reality in which the Anganen exist. Like self-decoration that may be 'read' in order to find meanings that lie beyond the exegetical (e,g., see O'Hanlon 1989:17-21), space and utterance may be 'read' in such ways that give rise to the nuances of various Anganen exchanges. This, together with the similarities and differences of events, gives rise to the subtlety of exchange-as-practice in Anganen culture.

The next section explores some general, categorical aspects of space in Anganen. Then I discuss conventional marriage exchanges and an instance of where bridewealth exchange 'went wrong', taking place after the couple commenced cohabitation. That is, while my primary concern is with the structural dimensions of politicisation and the sensory experience of exchange, obviously contextual factors beyond the structure of exchange affect its expression. This case of 'woman stealing' highlights features of spatial deployment and utterance that are key to the overall politicisation process in Anganen. Following this, the discussion returns to the structural dimensions of exchange, beginning with mortuary exchanges and how different events display increased politicisation, a process that culminates with the ceremonial pork distribution, yasolu. (Given my use of Anganen terms for various exchanges, I list and briefly describe them below.)


The organisation of most villages is around a patrilineal subclan of the landowner clan. Household residence is now often based on a man, his wife or wives, and their children. Where men's houses are still in operation, the village displays gender opposition. The men's house is located at the end opposite the main village entrance, with women's (and family based) houses running down both sides of the ceremonial green (see Figure one). Where men's and women's houses remain, there is a further aspect to space in that men's houses are taller. The village is conceptually male overall, in part due to the image of patrilineal continuity which is enhanced by casuarina planted by the forebears of current residents circling the hamlet. Similarly other 'male' plants such as bananas, sugar cane and coffee are planted in mixed gardens that are usually closer to villages than sweet potato gardens. [1] The green that the houses border is the site for most exchanges and feasts. Most gift exchanges take place near the men's house or, increasingly, the house of a major participant and perhaps at new places of prominence such as the market ground adjacent to the Det Roman Catholic mission station.

The juxtaposition of Anganen garden types also has gendered connotation. Those closest to the village are coffee groves and mixed gardens of bananas, sugar cane and so on that are conceptually 'male'. The most obvious female counterparts to this general male imagery of villages and these gardens being the sweet potato gardens tended by women located further from the village. The gendering of the botanical world further parallels that of the traditional housing styles, with the high coffee, casuarina or banana trees categorically 'male', while low plants such as sweet potato are 'female'. The gendering of space extends to the most prominent idiom the Anganen use to refer to a woman, namely that she is a 'road', polu. This metaphor highlights women as connecting socially and spatially distinct groups through marriage. Patri-group exogamy and virilocality mean that women move at marriage, but the idiom extends to exchange in that this road should be kept 'soft' (kumapi) through visiting to share food and to giv e wealth. Marriage prestations begin the 'road' and are the first example of how gendered meanings emerge contextually rather than categorically.



Conventional marriages follow protracted negotiations between men of the respective subclans of the bride and her future husband to decide upon the amount of pigs, money and, although declining in value, pearl shells for exchange. This includes a return payment, olet, of pigs, usually in identical number to those of the bridewealth (men sekere, 'pig pearl shell'). The bride's group rarely gives shells or money, however, and thus it is male wealth (see Nihill 1989b) of shells and money that create the inequivalence of exchange. Thus the inequivalence of the shells and money substitutes for the bride through compensating her kin in the way Roy Wagner (1972) argues for the Daribi. The Anganen say that bridewealth is for the fact that a woman's close agnates have 'carried' her until this time. 'Carrying', manda, concerns the care, food, and protection these men have given The Anganen further say that bridewealth functions to incorporate a woman's 'hands', ki, her productive capacity, and her 'womb blood', waluma, her reproductive potential, into the interest of her husband and his group.

The bridewealth shells and money are assembled at the site of the marriage in the woman's village but are not redistributed by the wife givers until the wife receivers depart. Only the symbolically 'female' pigs move between the two parties, and the bride is the sole actor during the ceremony as she gives the bridewealth and olet pigs to men who have been decided upon in advance. These men take the pig rope from the bride and pass it to their wives standing behind them. In contrast to the lengthy negotiations, the actual transference of pigs takes place in silence and there is also no direct interaction between the affinal groups assembled (see Figure two).

The prominence of the bride and the symbolism of the pigs gives a distinctive female orientation to marriage. The movement of pigs highlights her mediating capacity as the 'road' between two groups. Pigs are also the prototypic animal of female production, and the newly married couple retain some of the return payment pigs to begin the herd. The bride wears layers of net bags, and these further emphasise her role as producer. The net bags also symbolise female fertility. For instance, a number of terms linked to pregnancy are based on nu and babies are also carried in these when young. This term manda, 'to carry', refers to both production and reproduction. Women 'carry' children and pigs both literally and figuratively.

The centrality of the feminine and especially the female body is counterpoised to an extent by maleness also being represented, a major theme of my earlier discussion of Anganen marriage (Nihill 1989a). This is especially through the practice of covering the bride in black soot (even though this practice has now been abandoned under missionary pressure). Black is a distinctive male colour in Anganen. It symbolises male aggression in particular. Its significance on the bride's skin, I argue, is that it points to the reality of Anganen politics in that those who should share harmonious relations, affines, often do not. However, this aspect of male politics is symbolic and covert, as a marriage is not an occasion for heightened, overt politics. After the transfer of the pigs, the bride departs to take up residence at her husband's place. The affinal groups are unlikely to interact or converse. In structural terms, then, marriage has low politicisation as I use the term. Nonetheless, it may become explicitly pol itical under the impact of wider contextual factors as the following section shows.


'Woman stealing', ren pake, is where a woman commences cohabiting with a man without prior bridewealth being paid. For young women this is one means of resisting marriage procedures orchestrated by men. It is also one way that women may try to marry a man of their choosing as usually there will eventually be attempts to legitimate the union with wealth exchange. Young men who have 'stolen' women often boast that it shows their power to 'pull' women. Mere ego aside, 'stealing' a woman is a political manoeuvre as it undermines the rights other men feel they have to arrange the marriage of their daughter or sister. It is also commonly felt that when wealth is offered it will be substantially lower than the case where they had the power of bridewealth negotiation. As such, it may precipitate intense hostility between the man who has 'pulled' this woman (and almost inevitably men close to him) and the woman's kinsmen. Insults may fly between the two parties as they publicly denigrate each other; perhaps even overt physical violence may take place.

The offering of marriage payments for 'stolen' women also features hostility. [2] There may in fact be no negotiation -- just an offer to give. If there is discussion, it only concerns the amount of wealth the man and his kin will offer. No return payment accompanies this, a point which signals the hostility within the relation. It also shows the anger felt towards the woman by her kin as there is no direct reference to her productive ability. The bridewealth for 'stolen' women is called akos rather than men sekere thus further reflecting the difference of marriages following 'woman stealing' from others. Whatever the case, her kin go to her place of residence (rather than the inverse with most marriages). It is almost certainly the case that the akos receivers vent their anger at this time. This may be physically 'reclaiming' the woman, though she may be in hiding or at least stays well on the periphery. In essence this is a symbolic act only, as all now accept the inevitability of the union. Alternatively, the woman's kinsmen may blatantly try to take the wealth (i.e., symbolically 'stealing' it in an act to counter the earlier 'theft'). It is most likely they verbally attack the givers and emphatically denigrate the size of the prestation.

A number of points can be made when comparing these two descriptions of the presentation of men sekerelolet and akos. Akos with 'woman stealing' largely inverts much of the meaning of conventional marriage exchange. In conventional marriage, olet highlights the importance of female productive capacity and the future of exchange on the 'road' this marriage started. The net bags emphasise production while also highlighting the promise of children in the union. The absence of olet and the bride's decoration, if not the bride herself, shows that 'woman stealing' has no such connotations, just the loss (of wealth and of a woman) one group endures. Now it is male actors who angrily confront each other in a context where wealth provokes hostility rather than pleasure or prestige. Finally, the silence of the movement of wealth by the bride is now in stark contrast to the utterances men make. All of these help constitute and convey the heightened political nature of 'woman stealing' and akos over other marriage cerem onies. The symbolic references to politics, especially male aggression and the hostility possible between affines, is no longer covert through the bride's blackened skin, but explicit and intense.

The general point to emerge from this consideration of ren pake is that the wealth exchange definitive of marriage can be politically intense, but it is wider circumstances that render it so. 'Wife stealing' thus politicises marriage. Broader contingencies affect all exchange, but only through the way they resonate with the structural propensity of the exchange type. It is this structural propensity that primarily interests me here. However, it is worth noting that many of the contrasts between akos and conventional marriage also feature in more structurally politicised events as different types of mortuary exchange show.


The issues pertaining to the bride's body in marriage -- the affinal-exchange 'road', reproductive potential, and the locating of any marriage within the wider political sphere -- are also central to the products of the union. The physical state of the bodies of those who mediate between affines, married women and their children, are effectively statements of the political relations between these men. Most notably, bodies act as signs of the current state of exchange relations. The Anganen feel that harmonious relations make people happy. Conversely, bad exchange is potentially dangerous, and is most likely realised as sickness or death in these mediating individuals through witchcraft (kone ope, 'thought bad") unwittingly sent by those upset with the current state of affairs with those around them. Fittingly, the body, both living and as a corpse, is known as ro, the same term as for bridge. This extends upon the metaphoric value of roads, as bridges too link disparate but intermarrying communities who share a river as a common boundary. Roads and bridges thus integrate the political and the corporal, and in doing so extend the value of human signs beyond women per se while nonetheless pointing to the centrality of women in affinal relations.

A common reaction to sickness, but an obligatory one with death, is to mount further compensation. Mortuary exchange is ambula kala ('tie-give'). The agnates of men and unmarried children, and the husbands and sons of married women should offer ambula kala to matrilateral kin or the agnates of married women. [3] In either instance, the initial 'road' a woman established at marriage is kept 'soft' and 'open' with such prestations. The Anganen offer many reasons for why mortuary compensation must be paid. For instance, compensation redresses the damage of a body partially associated with others (a reference to waluma); it assuages the sorrow and anger death may cause; and it states emphatically that the agnatic kin of men and children or husbands/sons of married women did not 'carry's manda, them as they should. 'Carrying' is a polysemic term central to Anganen kinship that once again highlights the corporeal. Production and reproduction, the ki and waluma in bridewealth, may be referred to by this single term , while manda also encompasses general ideas about protection and nurture in that kin are said to 'carry' kin. (I return to this polysemy below.)

Upon hearing the news of a death, coresidents of the deceased person and kin from elsewhere gather at the omanda ('death house/village'). Upon entering the village, all may show their sorrow by wailing, lamenting, or proceeding to gently stroke the corpse. Mostly, however, it is women who do this, and it is women who sit around the body for hours if not days keening. Men, on the other hand, withdraw to the sidelines (see Figure three). There is little interaction between the men from the affinal groups the dead person linked, and this may be one instance of how kin such as matrilateral kinsmen show their anger that this person was not properly 'carried'. They may also damage property of the deceased's agnates. In extreme instances, especially with women, a person may lop off an ear lobe or end segment of a finger as a sign of grief. The length of Anganen mourning periods varies with age, gender and political status, and has been shortened since colonisation (in part due to government disapproval, in part due to motor transport allowing distant kin to come in a shorter time). Whatever the case, ambula kala should be exchanged prior to the disposal of the body. The 'tie-give' of the literal meaning of the term refers to the now abandoned practice of tying the corpse to a pole to elevate it above the mourning women, but related to this is that the necessity to give compensation is also 'tied' to the body. This is one reason given for why men must contain their grief, namely the responsibility to quickly amass the compensation to be given.

The social organisation of the mourning place largely replicates the gender dimensions of space found with marriage, albeit with notable differences. While one woman occupied the centre during marriage, it is now a group of women encircling the corpse. This further reflects a close identification of women with bodies per se. There seems no perceivable division in their collectivity. Certainly women will generally sit next to those they know, but there is no clear order based on criteria like clan membership or residence. This contrasts with the separation of the matrilateral and patrilateral kinsmen of the deceased person repeating the affinal opposition mapped out at the marriage place. While maternal displeasure over the death may persist, that they leave to return a few days after the death to receive the ambula kala their affines have collected in the interim demonstrates that compensation has functioned as it should. One group gives compensation in bulk to another to redistribute once they have returned home.

Events associated with deaths resulting from warfare add important variations to those characteristic of non-warfare deaths. This is most notably with the presentation of the compensation called yand rinkitame [4] Warfare reparations are paid for the deaths of allies, passing from those known as the "base-of-the-fight" (yandare) to the dead person's agnates (a married woman's husband and sons). In a separate event ambula kala should then be given by the recipients of warfare compensation to the maternal kin (a woman's agnates) of the dead person (see Nihill 1996a). By definition, the 'base of the fight' is the original protagonist clan who recruited the dead man, but in practice usually all those of the alliance beyond the close kin of the deceased will provide wealth as a sign of political solidarity. This means that yand rinkitame will likely involve a large amount of wealth and number of contributors, whereas most ambula kala involve less wealth and the immediate paternal and maternal kin of the deceased person.

The body of the deceased person should remain until yand rinkitame is given, and once again it is laid out in the centre of the mourning place surrounded by the grieving women (Figure four). However, whereas the matrilateral kin of the deceased conventionally go to receive compensation from his agnates in their village, with warfare compensation, the givers go to the recipients' village. They go en masse, the younger men, brandishing weapons at the front, followed by others carrying wealth or leading pigs. The young men may also don the black charcoal and cassowary plumes of warfare decoration. Upon reaching their destination, they charge as one, initially at the men's house if there is one, before circling the corpse and women, striking their weapons and loudly chanting 'whoa whoa whoa', the style found in aggressive taunts and warfare attacks. The close male kin of the dead stand on the edge of the ceremonial ground and largely feign disinterest. Those with the wealth gradually enter without great acknowle dgment and the wealth is arranged for presentation. Prominent men on both sides speak. Those from the 'base-of-the-fight' extol the alliance and the amount of compensation; its recipients usually respond by denigrating the pittance offered for the death. Eventually the 'base-of-the-fight' retire, the young men perhaps whooping in triumph. Overall, yand rinkitame displays a heightened politicking and aggression compared to the prestation of ambula kala, while still constrained within an overarching alliance.

Usually around six months after a death, a feast called omana (lit: 'death feast/eat') takes place. It 'finishes the sorry' as the Anganen put it; that is, it formally marks the end of the mourning period. The contrast found between warfare and non-warfare compensation is largely reflected in the corresponding death feasts (though the deaths of big men that did not directly result from hostilities are often reminiscent of the omana for deaths due to fighting). The Anganen normally stage omana following the deaths of women, children, and any man. Most are relatively small occasions where kin kill one or two pigs to be cooked with vegetables and gris (Tok Pisin, 'grease'), namely bamboo tubes filled with clean viscera, blood, and greens. As vegetable suppliers and through their roles in pig production, women feel highly involved in non-warfare death feasts. Along with men, they may also donate 'freezer meat' bought in town with the money gained from selling locally produced coffee. Gris is categorised as the ' female' counterpart of the 'male' pork flesh, and has great prominence both as a delicacy and for its seen nutritional value. This notable feminine orientation extends to the feast finishing the 'time sorry' and thereby releases restrictions on women, particularly wives, following men's deaths (see Nihill 1989a). Non-warfare omana thus project female-male complementarity more than intense hierarchy and opposition. There is also a lack of opposition between the earlier compensation givers and receivers. While those who gave compensation are responsible for organising the event, often compensation receivers will also provide food, in part to signal that the cordial relations death may threaten have been restored. The hosts distribute food directly to men, women and older children in generous proportions that they eat immediately (or as much as they can). These omana bring little prestige to those that stage them. Rather, men stand to lose face if they do not. Overall, there is a pronounced lack of opposition ba sed on gender, age, and kinship categories.

Deaths stemming from warfare and those of big men are marked with omana of a notably different character. [5] While the deaths of women and children due to their being victims during hostilities may be marked by such a death feast, most, and certainly the largest, concern the deaths of warriors and big men, thus helping to generate a pronounced masculinisation of the event (see Nihill 1996a). Men occupy the central arena of the village; while women and children largely remain on the perimeter. The overall crowd attending is far greater, as is the number of male providers of animals to be slaughtered. The large-scale omana I witnessed had no 'freezer meat' and thus women's contributions were noticeably restricted. It is true that with any animal of the household unit of production there is always a sense that women help contribute meat, but this complementarity of non-warfare death feasts is far less emphasised at warfare/big man omana. Indeed, there is some emphasis on men obtaining exotic animals that have no direct relation to women and household production such as cassowaries and cattle that bring great prestige to their providers. The bamboo tubes are still prepared, but are seen as largely peripheral to the event; and vegetables may not be included at all.

The masculinisation of food in warfare/big man omana is magnified by the quantities of meat for exchange. With any feast there is the desire to provide substantial amounts of food, but in warfare/big man contexts the meat is given to men only and often in very large portions that are taken home by the recipient to share with kin. The idea of giving too much to eat is a common way men get prestige in Anganen, but in this case it also has a certain air of aggressiveness about it as men call haughtily to recipients to come to get meat this magnificent. There is also a tendency for men of renown to not only supply these exotic forms, but to increase the quantity of the animals involved. This contrasts with non-warfare settings, where it is unlikely that any one man will supply more than one pig. Quantity here helps mark the event as one of possible competition and prestige seeking whereas non-warfare omana are not the basis for great status gains [6]

The potential for status gain in Anganen exchange is, in part, proportional to the degree to which men can achieve an autonomy that renders individual endeavour for direct assessment by others (Nihill 1996a). As such, the events offering lesser prestige to individuals are collective ones that are more or less mandatory -- bridewealth, mortuary compensation and non-warfare omana. The staging of warfare omana is far more open to manipulation, in terms of both whether the event is held and in its timing. The shift towards larger individual contributions, male to male gifts of large cuts of meat, and the potential for prestige are also highly reminiscent of the yasolu ceremonial pork distributions. However, big man/warfare omana and aspects of the presentation of yand rinkitame also have strong similarity with another aspect of mortuary exchange, namely an incremental exchange fittingly known as 'moka' in Tok Pisin. Before outlining key features of yasolu, it is worth considering politicisation in 'moka'. It ela borates on the themes of the variation between marriage, those events pertaining to non-warfare (and non-big man) deaths, and those following the death of big men or resulting from hostilities.


'Moka' is a two stage affair. First a prestation known as aropowe ('man-body-plant [as in placing debt]') is given by those who received compensation earlier. That is, the matrilateral kin of men and children and the natal kin of women give aropowe, while the agnates or husbands/sons of women do likewise for those deaths resulting from warfare. The agnates, husbands/sons, or the 'base-of-the fight' later reciprocate this prestation with increment, in a payment termed a pe ('man-make'). There is no expectation that 'moka' must be held and this allows for great flexibility in strategic planning. It may be staged between individuals or between groups organised around ambitious men, even though all participants may direct their wealth to individual recipients (see Nihill 1991, 1996a for full description). That is, unlike events such as compensation or bridewenith, the sense of collectivity here is the sum of dyadic relations. Individuals are far more prominent in 'moka', even if their visibility is ultimately sec ondary to the big man organiser who deftly coalesces the group around himself and, through orchestrating the prestation, is able to link all the wealth giving to his name. Thus, a big man's prestige stems, perhaps ironically, from the recognition of each of his followers as individuals.

'Moka' may be staged in relation to any person, but once again the largest pertain to male warfare deaths and to those of big men, centring the politics of violence and that of an illustrious exchange history. It may be initiated by either side, and, there are a number of ways of doing so. The would-be aropowe givers may simply announce their intentions, leaving the earlier compensation givers with little option if they are to avoid a loss of status. Conversely, the earlier compensation givers may invite its recipients to offer them aropowe. This may be done through verbal request or with a prestation known as men kap or a kom, [7] the compensation givers butchering a pig, retaining the viscera that they will cook and consume later. The carcass is cut into two sides. The givers may don cassowary feathers and rub charcoal onto their faces and upper torsos as they do when presenting rinkitame warfare compensation. As a group they carry the uncooked sides to the dance ground of its recipients and, charging into the village, lay the sides at the front of the men's or a prominent man's house. The donors immediately leave, chanting as they go. The recipients later cook the meat while its givers return home to prepare the viscera. Givers and receivers cannot share meat. It is an invitation to commence 'moka'. A refusal by the pork receivers to begin 'moka' would be a stark, non-verbal statement of current hostility in the relationship. A persisting anger over the lack of revenge for the death in question might, for instance, be one cause for refusal.

In most cases 'moka' do begin, thereby signalling alliance, a point reinforced by the fact that the a pe for any aropowe is not repaid until much later -- five years is not uncommon. Trust is thus imperative. Until a pe is given, there is a sense that the aropowe givers hold superiority over its receivers. One of the idioms invoked is gender, with big men especially boasting of having 'many wives', as the recipients are given pigs to hold like women who tend herds that their husbands will use in future exchange. Indeed 'moka' is one of the main avenues of 'finance' (cf.A.Strathern 1978) exploited for yasolu, as not only should wealth be reciprocated at least two-fold, but these pigs do not tax the resources of the original givers' households (see Nihill 1988a, 1996a, n.d.). To this end, the viscera retained by the men kap givers and its preparation as gris, the symbolically female part of the pig, is interesting. The specific name of this gris is inj yari, the same as that acknowledging female production (e. g., on the eve of yasolu, see Nihill 1988a, 1988b). This 'feminisation' of the men kap givers reflects the fact that they are the likely receivers of aropowe pigs to hold. They are 'like women', an idiom in which gender is invoked to express male hierarchy (Nihill 1994).

There is also a sense of superiority when aropowe givers challenge the receivers to give a pe. They call out across the valleys, asking for 'their pigs' while suggesting that the givers are not capable of doing so. The a pe givers eventually agree, and present it in similar vein to the other warfare prestations discussed. The two phases of 'moka" see a shift in superiority. The previously subordinate receivers of aropowe are now triumphant givers of a pe, and this is marked by much boasting and howling in joy as they arrive and leave the recipients' village as the incremental repayment renders them ascendant. This event replicates one theme common to much of Anganen mortuary exchange. Here the sociality of exchange and the eradication of debt being counterpoised with a stylised aggression in the performance of exchange, before, during, and after its presentation.

However, there are two vital differences between 'moka' and warfare compensation. First, the corpse is obviously no longer present. The names of the stages, 'man-body-plant [as in placing debt]': and 'man make', metaphorically extend the logic of bodies, creating debt to be offset, but without a corporeal presence. This allows for heightened masculinisation and the marginalisation of the role of women vis-a-vis bodies (see Nihill 1996a). Indeed, the second great difference is the absence of women per se as at best they witness the event from the sides of the ceremonial ground. Space, performance, and the rationale for the event are now all masculine concerns in contrast to the compensation for corporeal bodies. Overall, men differentiate themselves from women, but also distinguish themselves from each other through individual achievement. A hierarchy of status between men and women and between men is the result.

There is, however, a paradox that permeates this expression of superiority on the part of the a pe givers, especially if live pigs make up the bulk of the incremental repayment. I have noted that men may strategically instigate 'moka' in order to maximise their pigs for the ceremonial pig kill in ways that substantially surpasses the productive capacity of individual households. This is of clear benefit for the receiver, but the a pe giver's position is far less obvious. It is quite likely that the giver too will be planning yasolu, as clan cluster alliances, the members of which are likely to be involved in 'moka", either coordinate the pig kill together, or clan clusters of the one general vicinity follow each other. The pattern is far from uniform, but there does seem to be a vague east to west progression of pig kills across the valleys. If partners are of the one coordinating unit (or those who stage the event in quick succession), 'moka' as a means of finance for yasolu must have its ambivalence. The a pe givers gain prestige but lose pigs, [8] the receivers gain pigs to use in ceremonial exchange -- the singular most prestigious event in Anganen -- but must temporarily endure the boastful display of their partners. The idea that material loss means political gain is a theme that runs through Melanesian exchange. However, the idea that one prestigious event may lie in contradiction to another prestigious event remains underexplored. [9]

Without wishing to suggest any necessary evolutionary connection, in many respects 'moka' seems an intermediary between events such as the presentation of warfare compensation and yasolu. It has the stylised aggression of warfare compensation and a group orientation, although one based on cumulative dyadic relations coalesced around big men rather than the collective unity found with compensation. 'Moka' stems from death and thus often the politics of violence given that it is most likely to be staged for warfare deaths or those of big men who may have died through sorcery. However, what results from 'moka' is prestige. The metaphoric appropriation of bodies with 'man-corpse-plant' and 'man make' reflect this interstitial status of 'moka', an exchange whose logic is a body logic of sorts, but one different to direct compensation. Yasolu is not based on bodies in any way, and it is the ultimate ceremonial expression of masculine exclusivity, individual male autonomy, and the politics of status that pits men a gainst others in generating hierarchy.


In yasolu, potentially hundreds of adult men from adjacent local groups coordinate their activities, perhaps on one huge ground specially constructed for the purpose. Individuals cannot give yasolu pork to their agnates, but others within these coordinating units as well as those from outside them are partners. Such partnerships, in and of themselves, are not competitive as there is no increment -- one partner can receive no more than a single side of pork and reciprocate in kind. However, those within the coordinating unit are the fiercest competitors through the sum of how many pigs they kill and how many partners they have.

This point about internal unit rivalry is also inscribed upon the yasolu ground itself (see Figures five and six). Ideally, there are two sides running the length of the ground, with the organisation based on the local group. On one side are those recognised as the descendants of immigrants with full land ownership rights. Along with non-land owning newcomers who have settled permanently, these make up roughly half the adult male population. Those considered the descendants of the original settlers are on the other side. The former are organised in terms of clan and if need be subclan affiliation, while the latter are lined up according to their subclan. As intermarriage between immigrants and original settler clans is popular, this means that close agnates are on one side, while their affines, cognates, allies and coresidents are on the other. The side that is not the original settlers will feature affines as well as agnates and cognates as intermarriage is also popular between any non-agnatic coresidents. I f two or more local groups stage the event on the one ground, then this organisation is repeated for each sequentially. Running down the length of the ground are lines of long houses, yasolu anda. Each man has a segment or segments for himself (e.g., to house visitors on the eve of the event).

Yasolu usually last three days. On the first, men place stakes in the centre of the ground on which to fasten the pigs they will kill (Figure five). Men call in the pigs they have variously and strategically farmed out as 'finance', perhaps including those as a pe. They may do so through asking 'their wives' to bring them (even though 'finance' is a male-male concern, see Nihill 1988b). Gender once again encapsulates hierarchy amongst men. They stake these pigs and those already in their possession until the pig kill on the third day. Once all are present, men with the most staked pigs may ostentatiously count them and then, in joy and triumph, run up and down the ceremonial ground crying 'wooa-woow-woo' as they go. The sounds made have no synonyms: at best the Anganen say that it just shows that such men are happy. It is a political act nonetheless, as those who celebrate have already stamped their distinction over others, including lesser yasolu performers.

On the third day, the pig killing and pork distribution takes place. Now in front of the long houses are horizontal poles, ololo, supported by forked sticks, kapa. The forked sticks hold the butchered pigs' heads with the sides of meat draped on the poles prior to cooking (Figure six). Each man has his own sticks and pole section, meaning that the quantity of sides and number of heads are immediate markers of individual participation. This is particularly so as the heads are not cooked until after the day's main events. These signs are thus a direct way observers can compare individual men.

The sight of hundreds of animals being clubbed to death, the deafening sounds of their squealing, the image of their butchering, and the frenetic -- almost chaotic -- activity as a whole are scenes unparalleled in Anganen. This done, the long cooking pits further into the centre of the ground are prepared with the heating of stones to hold temperature once the pits are closed. The stones give off a heat of almost unbearable intensity. While women were present in the centre of the ground when the pigs were alive (largely to apply mud to the pigs' skin to prevent overheating), they are absent from the centre of the ground once the pits are readied. Anganen men claim that this is a time of great danger that only they can endure as women cannot cope with the intense heat and the spectacle of so many pigs being killed around them.

The time when the pork is cooking in the earth ovens is one of great expectation and excitement. Similarly the opening of the ovens assails the senses as the smoke and aroma of so many cooked pork sides rises into the air. The preparation for yasolu pork distribution is thus truly an assault on the senses -- a rampant sensory experience of sight, sound, and smell, plus the feeling of heat, steam, and perhaps trepidation if Anganen male ideology concerning women's fear has any foundation. This profound impact on the consciousness of participants and observers alike is not merely incidental. It is the basis on which participants and audience reckon each man's performance and the event overall. Yasolu has a profile that no other event can match in Anganen. The difference of scale and sensory intensity -- no small omana of one or two pigs compares with this -- facilitates the meaning of the event for all. The yasolu ground is exclusive male space, even to the point that the meat recipients should be adult men. M ost yasolu partners are related via women (wives, sisters, mothers, etc., see Nihill 1988a, 1988b), but men should receive the meat, unlike small omana where women directly receive their share.


The cases of 'moka' and yasolu clearly demonstrate that male strategy and the material aspects of exchange are integral to its meaning. However, such strategy is framed by the meaning of an event overall, including the broader sensory aspects that I have outlined for some gift exchanges the Anganen undertake. This paper is also an exercise in comparison within a single culture, simply because any event has both its own inherent meaning and that stemming from its similarity and difference to others. Such meaning motivates men to act and forms the ambience for how they and others reckon performance.

Comparison may be two-fold. It may be between events of the same type such as two performances of yasolu. It may also be between exchange events of different types such as the contrast between a yand omana -- involving large numbers of transactors and quantities of meat, and the omana for a small child in which one or two pigs are killed. The ren pake example where an event not conventionally of overt political intensity, marriage, became so also shows that contextual factors always affect exchange. Indeed, contextual factors and the inherent structural basis for what I have called politicisation, be it the politics of prestige or male aggression, operate dialectically. For instance, it is not just that men strive to maximise pig numbers in yasolu in order to get prestige, they do so because yasolu is so prestigious due to the full gamut of what it is and how it differs from other, less inherently and explicitly political events. Nonetheless, I have concentrated primarily on the structural premises for polit icisation, though both context and structure may exhibit similarities: as events become more politically intense. Structurally and contextually, with more highly politicised exchanges male spatial centrality supersedes female centrality, and silence gives way to sound (boasting, the denigrating of others, the chants of warfare exchanges, 'moka' and yasolu). In yasolu, there is also the deafening noise of the slaughter of pigs en masse as part of the wholesale assault on the senses, including the intense heat of the ceremonial arena. Its contrast to the subdued manner of conventional marriage and non-warfare omana magnifies its status.

The general point to note is that an event's similarity and difference to others intensify its particularity, and pace Howes (1991), this is why social practice may be a deep sensory experience. Sight, sound, silence and perhaps smell may all be factors in motivating action and how people both evaluate performance consciously and comprehend performance in a far more taken-for-granted manner. The heightened emotional states of the fear of brides during akos for ren pake, the grief and trepidation of the keening women encircled by charging men of rinkitame, or the heat of the yasolu earth ovens and the intense excitement and expectation of their uncovering make people more receptive to the meaning of events. Much of the meaning of exchange is thus implicit (cf. Douglas 1975) and not open to deep reflection and exegetical elaboration. The earlier points noting the importance of quantity and male strategy resonate very well with the emic view the Anganen themselves espoused. However, much of what I have discusse d is not open to detailed exegesis. There is no need to ask why is it that the bride takes prominence, or that women keen around corpses, or that men have exclusivity on the 'moka' ground, or that women cannot endure the heat and noise of the yasolu ground. These are self-evident, but their ramifications for the performance of exchange are fundamental. I will use the issue of space in order to develop these comparisons and how they relate to the meaning of various gift exchanges.


Centre and periphery feature in most Anganen exchanges. Centre-periphery opposition also features because relationality emphasises the meaning of the organisation of space. In general terms, centrality denotes greatest significance, but this does not translate as necessary reflecting power, or at least material power. With mortuary compensation, the corpse is at the centre, with women immediately encircling it. With marital exchange, it is a single body and lone woman that are focal. Both events centralise bodies and their close identification with women. In doing so they provide the reason for why these compensatory payments should proceed. Women have little public power, a point emphasised in the marriage ceremony as all women but the bride are peripheral, at best taking the pigs their husbands receive with the bride's distribution. [10] Marriage and mortuary compensation exchange symbolically emphasise the significance of women as mediators, mothers and perhaps producers. Even here, though, the black decor ation of brides also symbolically centres the masculine attributes of groupness and the ambivalence of alliance.

On the other hand, men dominating the centre in events such as yasolu, large omana, and 'moka', highlight the male pursuit of prestige through competition. Women are peripheral and, even though ultimately the producers of wealth in the form of pigs, this has been marginalised in favour of male politics. The political is no longer implicit but overt. This is also the case with ren pake where the symbolic trappings of the bride, and in all likelihood the bride herself, are absent, with aggressive interchanges between men the dominant feature. Thus both in structural and contextual terms, the centring of male transactors and the peripheralisation of women do not simply correlate with increased politicisation but are constituent of it.

The general significance of the periphery of space in all cases means powerlessness. Women are peripheral in yasolu, the omana following warfare deaths and at 'moka'. When men stand on the outer, this means non-involvement and thus no capacity to achieve prominence. At best in events like omana or yasolu they are recipients who must await summoning by men endeavouring to maximise their prestige. When men are more to the periphery than women, women do not occupy centre stage as political actors but through an identity founded in terms of compensatory body logics. The bride hands pigs to men during marriage thus highlighting their transactor status. Their wives are behind them to then take the pigs, not as transactors but as producers. These gendered dimensions of space also stem from the fact that non-transactors stand to the side of the ceremonial ground. Men reassert themselves at the centre with the exchange of compensation for deaths, irrespective of their cause. As such, even in relatively lowly politici sed events men do not surrender power. The notion of outside, however, needs careful exploration as there is a need to distinguish between peripherality and what I call encompassment. By encompassment I mean that those people spatially enclosing bodies (live or dead) give an emphasis to both the encompassed entity and to those encompassing it.

The cultural logic of encompassment comes from the idea of nu that was discussed above in terms of the association between pregnancy and its symbolic referents, net bags. Nu is a fundamental concept in Anganen, for instance in the two basic forms of relatedness that I have variously considered for the dynamics of Anganen social structure (Nihill 1988a, 1988b, 1996a, 1996b). One form is amenu, same-sex siblingship, such as agnation and its extension to political alliance, while the other is mbetinu, cross-sex siblingship that includes relations between men related via women such as affines and cross-cousins. Amenu epitomises sharing, be it ancestry, land, food, responsibility or wealth, while mbetinu is the relational form of gift exchange. Nu here best translates as collectivity -- that which is bounded. Pregnancy clearly captures this as containment. The importance of nu also has resonance with the Anganen understanding of pregnancy, namely the concept of manda, 'to carry'. Manda is a polysemic term, referr ing to both reproduction and production. Women, not only 'carry' children in their bodies or in net bags, but also 'carry' pigs and sweet potatoes. Moreover, as noted above, in this kin based society, kin 'carry' kin, as the Anganen say, and again this is literal but has great importance figuratively as well. 'Carrying' kin is ultimately why bridewealth is paid, as in normative contexts fathers and their agnatic groups have 'carried' the bride by paying bridewealth for her mother and providing nurture and protection. Conversely, one reason for why mortuary compensation must be forthcoming is that kin failed to do this. Traced this way, nu thus ultimately highlights responsibility and cause as well.

Just as the centre-periphery relation articulates with gender in the particular expression of the meaning and dimensions of power, encompassment has different ramifications for men and women. The rinkitame compensation for deaths in warfare best illustrates these ramifications. Initially women encircle the corpse. This shows they are responsible for bodies. However, then the 'base-of-the fight' charges into the arena and encircles both the keening women and the corpse; and later the dead person's agnates may also join. What is being conveyed here in a most dramatic and emphatic way is that the male politics of violence is the cause of death and grief. Through encompassment (and later exchange) men appropriate bodies, giving greatest significance to their acts, with male violence causing death superseding the capacity for life most associated with women (cf. Ortner 1974). Encompassment thus engenders close association between both men and women and bodies but it ultimately centres the male politics of violenc e and exchange.

Being there is a fundamental concern in many Melanesian societies it seems. [11] For instance, individuals may relate what others have told them about events but they acknowledge they were not present and thus cannot authenticate such accounts. Seeing is exactly believing in Anganen, and the visual performance, including how space is defined and deployed, is integral to this reality. Thus with increased politicisation from marriage, through mortuary exchange, to warfare related exchanges, 'moka', and finally to yasolu, the gender of space is crucial. In all Anganen exchange, actors are located in and move through space. Space is not a neutral concern, a mere backdrop of performance, but fundamental to the fact that exchange is performance. Thus exchange is in part a complex visual phenomenon in which the amount of wealth is only one factor in the meaning generated for actors and audience alike. It is the juxtapositions, especially vis-a-vis gender of the three spatial principles of centrality and periphery ( and the emphasis that stems from their opposition), together with encompassment, that operate to achieve this ambience framing the human experience of gift exchange in Anganen.


The sensory dimensions of any particular exchange give rise to the fact that the performance of an event largely speaks for itself. Certainly individuals may speak and in doing so help articulate what exchange means. However, it is the absence of sound, especially during conventional marriages, and the utterances of men during the performance of rinkitame, men kap and yasolu that the Anganen cannot translate into other terms that are striking features of these events.

The significance of marriage, both for the couple concerned and the groups they connect, would appear so profound that speech would seem a vital element. Indeed, leading up to the actual ceremony there are usually long negotiations over a suitable amount of bridewealth. However, silence accompanies the actual movement of wealth because the meaning of the event is self-evident, not simply in the material realisation of the negotiations, but through the bride herself. The bride's actions demonstrate her mediating role, and the layered net bags her productive and reproductive potential that underpins why bridewealth should be given. The bride's black decoration also says that which could be said, but is far better not said, namely the aggressiveness of male politicking and the ambivalence of alliance. Silence here does not simply mean that other factors may detract from her performance, but rather their absence intensifies its meaning as the audience watches her and her alone. That this is the only time a woman 's body decoration features black, a colour prominent in male self-decoration in other contexts, underpins the uniqueness of this occurrence and thus emphasises the significance of the bride's decoration even more. So too does the close association of black decoration of men during rinkitame and men kap, events directly pertaining to male violence.

The highly charged 'whoa whoa whoa' of rinkitame and the 'wooo wooo wooa' of men ecstatic as they are finally about to embark on yasolu are untranslatable because they are sounds that stand for themselves. They are their own self-referents. Their significance in these particular events lies on the level of self-evidence that defies questioning. Like the silence of marriage, and the spatial dimensions of performance, these non-discursive utterances also help constitute the highly nuanced meaning of specific exchange events. They do so by undermining the need for explication because of the self-evidence that seeing, and hearing, is believing.


The performative and symbolic aspects of gift exchange in Melanesia have received far less attention than the material concerns that render exchange central to many political-economies. Certainly there is an extensive literature on oration in the Highlands (e.g., Merlan and Rumsey 1991, Reay 1959, A.Strathern 1971). Similarly, the elaborate decoration and dancing that is all but synonymous with Melanesia and which often has links with the movement of wealth in exchange contexts remains an important issue (e.g., O'Hanlon 1989; Strathern and Strathern 1971). Some consideration has been given to the symbolism of wealth such as Jeff Clark's (1991, 1995) discussions of pearl shell symbolism. Rubel and Rosman (1978) have also addressed the symbolism of exchange items, noting the importance of gender in the genesis of meaning. However, they do not consider the performative dimensions of gender and space. Where performance and symbolism have received substantial attention in Papua New Guinea (as elsewhere in the worl d) is with ritual (e.g., Gell 1975 among many). It may be profitable to treat Highlands gift exchange more like ritual. Indeed marriage is a rite of passage. That wealth is central need not deflect attention from this point.

Certainly I do not claim to have considered the performative and symbolic dimensions of Anganen exchange in anywhere near the subtlety they possess. Indeed, I have limited my discussion of symbolism largely to the bride at marriage and men in prestations connected to warfare. I have also endeavoured to emphasise the significance of speech without talk and the silence that may accompany acts of exchange. In doing so, I point to the need to treat exchange as, by definition, performance expressed in time, and especially here, in space. Centre and periphery and their opposition, and what I term encompassment are vital elements in the constitution and transmission of the meaning of exchange. This is especially so for how they pertain to gender and to power. The strategic and material dimensions of gift exchange must always demand attention, but not to the exclusion of the varied nuances of exchange performance. Quantity always matters, but individuals come to sense their prestige and how others confer status upon them is not just through their actions. It is also the gamut of sensory dimensions -- the seeing, hearing and perhaps feeling of a range of concerns that make up an exchange that matters. These dimensions provide the framework, the quality of exchange, in which quantity has impact. Exchange is a complex sensory phenomenon. Sight, sound, silence, perhaps smell, the discomfort of the intensely hot cooking pits of yasolu and the various heightened emotional states call on human faculties rendering the experience of Anganen exchange a reality for those that give and receive, and for those that may witness them doing so.


The ethnography on which this paper is based comes from twenty five months fieldwork generously funded by The University of Adelaide. I would like to thank Neil Maclean and the referees for their assistance.


(1.) Bushland not as yet used for gardens that separates many group territories is not gendered. It is wild, kera, in opposition to the tameness, kumapi, of the village. It is the domain of the spirits, including the ancestors. It does have a certain male orientation, however, as men rather than women enter it for occasional hunting. The patrilineal bias of the ancestors (e.g., that women's spirits may return to their natal place) augments this point.

(2.) Despite the hostility 'woman stealing' evokes, there is, especially as time passes, normally a desire on behalf of both parties to legitimate the union. This is especially so if it has produced children. If things have not been settled by the time his yasolu pig kill occurs, then the man who has begun cohabitation in this way runs a great risk of ridicule from the woman's angered kinsmen for killing 'other men's pigs'.

(3.) For convenience, I will largely ignore the case of married women. Statistically these are less significant in terms of frequency, size and are far less likely to be the focus of subsequent but non-obligatory exchanges.

(4.) I talk about warfare in the ethnographic present for three main reasons. Despite official 'pacification', the Anganen were engaged in fighting in the early nineteen eighties when I first undertook fieldwork. This resulted in two deaths and associated exchanges that provide much of my ethnography. The Anganen are also certain that violent hostilities will recur. Thirdly, as I note in the text, the timing of some exchanges pertaining to warfare is very flexible and a death even generations ago may be the basis for exchange in the present.

(5.) The death feasts for big men may actually bridge the two forms of politics, male violence and male prestige seeking. Big men are frequently thought killed by sorcery, especially in times of heightened hostility as the Anganen see sorcery as a viable alternative to direct physical attack. As the quest for status gain may be motivation for men to participate in large omana, the death feasts for big men or those dying in warfare thus may feature both violence and male ambition for prestige. This bridging is elaborated further in Nihill n.d..

(6.) I have written a companion paper on the role of meat in various Anganen exchanges (Nihill n.d.) Nonetheless the point on heightened masculinisation and politicisation in warfare omana should be clear. The same applies to yasolu that is to be discussed shortly.

(7.) In principle a kom is given for non-warfare deaths and men kap for warfare mortalities. The presentation is identical, and often the terms are used interchangeably. In line with this event most likely to happen because of warfare deaths, men kap seems the most common, and I will use it here to refer to both situations in which death occurred.

(8.) Counteracting this is that live pigs are originally given in aropowe that can either be used in exchange or for breeding. It is also likely that men will have a number of 'moka' partnerships active concurrently thus allowing them flexibility in how they manage their pig herds.

(9.) However, see Rena Lederman for her stimulating discussions of Mendi exchange where she contrasts clan based ceremonial exchange with other events in which individuals, both men and women, exchange in contexts such as marriage prestations. She (1989, 1991) argues there may be conflicting interests between men and women and between big men and other men, as ultimately big men fare best in ceremonial exchange while others may be happier using their wealth to maintain individual partnerships.. The Anganen situation is not so clear. Women have begun to make small contributions to 'moka' (see Nihill 1991), but their exchange involvement as transactors remains slight and in many instances their wealth is channelled by men to their own prestige gains. There is no pronounced opposition by women to yasolu except where pig numbers strain their productive limits. What I am arguing, however, is that all men, big men included, may have to experience the conflicting outcomes of 'moka' and yasolu.

(10.) Women do symbolically protest at the orchestration of marriage by men by surrounding the bride so as not to let her enter the exchange arena. However, men symbolically demonstrate their dominance when close male agnates of the bride push the women aside, grab her and then thrust her into the arena. This is discussed in more detail in Nihill 1989a.

(11.) See Eves (1998) argument on the importance of the sensory dimensions of social life in Melanesia, especially his (1998:36-7) succinct review of the literature on first hand experience versus hearsay


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 A brief description of Anganen
Name Description
Men sekere Conventional bridewealth
Olet Return prestation of pigs in
 conventional marriage
Akos Bridewealth given following 'woman
Ambula kala Mortuary compensation for non-warfare
Rinkitame Mortuary compensation for warfare deaths
Omana Feast some six months after a death
Yand omana Feast held to commemorate a warfare
 [Omana for a big man whose death is not
 attributed to warfare may also be
 highly reminiscent of this]
'Moka' Tok pisin term for the second stage of
 mortuary exchange, comprising:
 aropowe that is reciprocated with
 increment by a pe
Yasolu Ceremonial pig kill and pork
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Date:Dec 1, 2000
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