Tamarind trees as the ‘accidental heroes’ in Makassar – Indigenous Australia’s ancient contacts
Lily Yulianti Farid
The presence of tamarind trees (Tamarus indica) in the northern part of Australia are indicators of the ancient contacts between Australian First Nations peoples and trepangers from Makassar, South Sulawesi, Indonesia. For 300 years, as early as the mid 17th century, people from Makassar set sail to the northern coastal areas to catch and process the sea cucumbers known as trepang or beche de mer before shipping the commodity back to Makassar and selling them to Chinese merchants.
Tamarind trees grew around the Makassan trepangers’ camps on the coastal areas, and today, the trees have become a heritage botanical symbol for the Indigenous people in Australia's top end whenever they remember and retelling stories of the trepangers from Makassar. ‘Your ancestors planted the tamarind trees in here…’ that’s how Timmy Djawa Murrnmurrnga Burarrwanga, a leader of Yolngu community explained about our shared history through the trepang industry during my visit to Yirrkala, northeast Arnhemland, in December 2018.
Earlier this month, I started a series of workshops on ‘Recipes from the Global Encounters’ focusing on tamarind, with an independent marine cultural and heritage researcher from West Sulawesi, Ridwan Alimuddin, as we are both interested to further examine the history of foods in the global encounters. Why tamarind? When we started to identify spices brought by the trepangers to Australian’s northern coasts, Ridwan included ‘a basket of tamarind balls’ on the list. Tamarind is an essential ingredient in Makassan culinary. We grew up watching our mother preparing tamarind fish soup and we have learned from the older generations that the best way to marinade fish and chicken meats is with tamarinds, lemons, and salt. In short, a basket of tamarind balls in our kitchen is a common thing. In the modern era, the tamarind balls are now replaced with tamarind paste packed in plastic wraps or jars, however in villages and traditional markets people prefer to use the tamarind balls for cooking. Tamarind also creates a sensational taste when it is mixed with coconut sugar and chilli for Indonesian style fruit salad.
Tamarind balls from a local market in West Sulawesi.
Photo: Ridwan Alimuddin
When Ridwan Alimuddin joined the commemorative voyage of Nur Al Marege – a replica of padewakkang prau specially built for a project called Before 1770 initiated by a Sydney-based Islamic organisation, Abu Hanifa – from Makassar to Arnhem Land in December 2019, the crew reconstructed the trepangers’ daily activities including the food preparations during the trip. They used similar clay pots and cooked similar foods. ‘We have learned that the trepangers cook simple yet nutritious meals and when it comes to fish, they grilled the fish for making tamarind fish soup. It’s not a big surprise if we find tamarind trees in small islands and coastal areas where the trpangers transited before reaching the Australian shores,’ says Ridwan.
Did the trepangers plant the tamarind trees purposefully or did the trees grow naturally on Australian shores? I raised this question in our first workshop after collecting various information about tamarinds in the context of market price and availability. In terms of availability, tamarinds are easy to get at any traditional markets and the price is low. In South Sulawesi and West Sulawesi, tamarinds are also considered as fruits for free as one can get them almost from anywhere. Tamarind trees grow in public spaces such as traditional markets and around the squares in kampongs. It is safe to argue that planting tamarind trees were not on the sailors and trepangers’ agenda. They would easily pack a basket of tamarind balls for their long journeys and that tamarind scarcity had never been an issue. ‘A basket of tamarind balls would be sufficient enough for 10 months,’ Ridwan offers an estimation which is based on the reconstructions made by the crews of Nur Al Marege during the commemorative voyage. In addition, Ridwan adds, ‘Tree plantings are not included in the traditions or rituals of the sailors from South Sulawesi and West Sulawesi.’
Tamarind trees at one of trepangers’ transit island. Ilwaki Village, Wetar Regency, Maluku.
Photo: Ridwan Alimuddin
If there was no urgency to plant the tamarind trees for food supply and there is no tradition of tree planting that existed in Sulawesi’s maritime culture, why have we found tamarind trees in Arnhem Land, the Kimberley and other parts of Australia’s northern coasts as well as in transit islands in East Indonesia? One might find the answer by simply imagining this daily activity: the trepangers cooked their foods and threw away the food waste, including the tamarind seeds, around their camp sites. Just like other organic waste, the food waste was easily washed away or buried on the shores. However, nature has provided enough ‘nutrition’ for the tamarind seeds to grow. So, the tamarind trees are the ‘accidental heroes’ in our shared history and culture.
Our ancestors, the trepangers from Makassar, did not put planting trees on their agenda. This is how we reimagine the life of the trepangers in the northern coast of Australia. Tamarind trees grew naturally after the seeds found their own way to grow, to survive and to witness the ancient trepang industry which connected Indonesia and Australia long before the white people arrived in 1770s. Today, these accidental heroes stand tall and strong to witness the initiative of the new generations from both countries to reconnect themselves with the shared history.
Lily Yulianti Farid is a published author and art events producer with expertise in cultural links between Australia and Indonesia. She also serves as the current Director of the Makassar International Writers Festival, a position held since 2011. She started her career as a journalist for Kompas, a leading newspaper in Indonesia in 1995 and later expanded her career into academic and creative fields, teaching Indonesian literature as well as working for academic research projects and publications at the University of Melbourne from 2014-2019. Lily is a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Monash Indigenous Studies Centre.
Photo: Lesekreis