Why this Website Exists

This website documents life with the Mentawai of Siberut Island, Indonesia — shared from within the uma, through lived relationship rather than observation.

It’s About Time

For more than thirty five years, I have lived in close relationship with a Mentawai family on Siberut Island, Indonesia. I was welcomed, adopted, and raised into their uma — their community — not as a visitor, but as family.

For a long time, I didn’t see the point of writing about it.
Those who mattered already knew the stories.
Others might never truly understand them anyway.

But today, the Mentawai stand at a crossroads.

Life is changing fast. Too fast. What once evolved slowly over generations is now shifting within a single lifetime. Younger Mentawai look outward, drawn by education, opportunity, and the pull of a modern world. Elders hold knowledge shaped by forest, ritual, and community — a way of life that has endured for thousands of years, but now risks slipping away.

I am no longer only a witness to this change.
I am part of it.

As a member of their family, I am being asked questions — by parents, by children — about the future. Questions without easy answers. Questions that carry hope, fear, and responsibility.

This space exists to share their world as it is lived from the inside.
Not as nostalgia.
Not as anthropology.
But as relationship.

This is a story of belonging — and of what it means to remain human in a world that is changing too fast.

A Personal Journey

I’ve been told to write about my experiences and life with my Mentawai family for many years — ever since I returned from my first journey to Siberut Island in 1990. I kept telling others, and myself, that I would. That “one day” I should.

But that day took more than three decades to arrive.

For a long time, I didn’t see much value in writing about my own experiences for people I don’t know, or who may not feel deeply connected. And the people who do care — family and friends — have heard these stories many times already. Over the years, I have brought my parents, my wife, my son, friends, and other genuinely interested people to my Mentawai family. And more will come.

So why write this?
And for whom?

Now I know.

Life is changing for my Mentawai family — as it has been changing for the Mentawai people for some time already. Change itself is inevitable. What troubles me is the speed at which it is happening.

Not every generation can adapt to that speed. Some are unwilling. Others simply cannot. The younger generation is naturally drawn toward opportunity, ambition, and education beyond the island. The older generations grew up in a culture that valued community over individual ambition — and ambition was never something they were taught to pursue.

The Mentawai way of life has always centered on the uma, not the individual.
Today, that foundation is under pressure.

Belonging Comes with Responsibility

For a long time, I tried not to look too closely at this. Perhaps I hoped time would remain almost still — in what Sir Thomas Raffles once described as a “Garden of Eden.” Deep down, I wished I would not have to witness this transition myself.

But today I am no longer only witnessing it.
I am being drawn into it.

I am part of the family. I was adopted into the uma by the late Aman Patre over thirty years ago. I am considered a full blood-relative — because in Mentawai culture, belonging is defined by relationship, not origin.

Different generations now come to me with questions — questions that are difficult to answer without bias. Parents and children share their doubts, hopes, and fears, and ask for guidance.

What can I do?
What should I do?
Should I do anything at all?

The thought that traditional Mentawai culture — shaped over thousands of years — might disappear within just two generations breaks my heart. Writing this brings tears. But I cannot pretend to stand outside it.

I cannot simply observe.

I belong to their uma.
And the uma comes first.

Giving Something Back

So I have decided not to step back, but to continue contributing — as they expect me to, now more than ever. I do so guided by my experience, my judgment, and my conscience.

I owe this to my Mentawai father, the late Aman Patre — a great shaman, but above all a remarkable human being. I owe it to his wife, Teteu, my Mentawai mother, who raised six children after his passing. And I owe it to my brothers and sisters: Aman Manja, Aman Sasali, Bai Jalamati, Bai Baguli, Lily, and Kakui.

What they have given me has shaped who I am.
This work is my way of giving something back.

This is not only a story about the past.
It is also a story about what we choose to carry forward.

I want my Mentawai family to speak about the challenges they face today. About how they see the changing world. About what they hope for their children.

This is their story —
and the story of generations to come.

Toine IJsseldijk

Adopted member of a Mentawai uma, Siberut Island