Mentawai Shamans & Initiation
Foundations of a Shaman’s Life
Kerei
Guardians of Balance — Bridges Between Worlds
The kerei, the Mentawai shamans, stand at the spiritual center of Mentawai society. As healers, ritual experts, and mediators between the human world and the realm of souls, they safeguard balance in every dimension of life — body, forest, community, and spirit.
Their work begins where ordinary understanding ends. They diagnose illnesses that arise not only from physical causes but from wandering souls, broken taboos, or unseen disturbances carried by animals, objects, or events. Through chants, invocations, and ritual dances, they restore harmony between the physical and spiritual realms. With deep knowledge of forest plants, they prepare medicines that heal wounds, calm fevers, ease pain, and soothe troubled hearts.
The kerei are the only Mentawai who possess a distinct domain of work. Their authority is rooted not in wealth but in spiritual accomplishment, personal discipline, and the respect they earn from their community.
Salipak
The Sacred Box — A Vessel of Power and Lineage
The salipak is the heart of a kerei’s ritual life — a sacred wooden box bound with rattan, holding the objects through which he communicates with the spirit world.
Inside lie bells, medicinal ingredients, ritual leaves, and spirit-given items. Each object has its own lineage, its own potency. Together, they form a small yet powerful universe — a portable shrine that allows the kerei to work wherever he is called.
The salipak is not opened casually. Before lifting its lid, the kerei must concentrate, chant, and align himself with the unseen. Opening it without proper preparation could disturb the balance between human and spirit realms.
In the uma, the salipak is placed in a respectful, elevated position, near the main post associated with spiritual presence. When a kerei dies, his salipak is passed to a chosen heir — not necessarily a family member, but someone spiritually suited to inherit its responsibility.
Through the salipak, the continuity of shamanic knowledge endures — a quiet, potent link between generations of healers.
The Calling
Why Become a Kerei
Becoming a kerei is a choice — and a lifelong commitment. The path is demanding, marked by strict taboos, long periods of seclusion, and years of training. A shaman must protect his own soul as much as the souls of others; violating taboos can harm both. While the role brings prestige, it offers no economic gain. Payments for healing take the form of larger shares of ceremonial meat, which must be redistributed to the entire household.
Yet the desire for honor — a respected name carried far beyond one’s own valley — motivates many to embrace this path. A father may encourage his son to train as a kerei, for the novice’s success reflects on the entire lineage. Supporting a novice’s training requires dozens of pigs and hundreds of chickens, and the father who provides these sacrifices earns admiration across the island.
Even so, the number of shamans is declining. In many valleys it was once common for a third of adult men to be kerei. Today, fewer young men choose the demanding path.
The Path of Initiation
Apprenticeship
Teacher, Peers, and Preparation
To become a kerei requires a learning period of many months — a commitment that reshapes a man’s daily life, his relationships, and his place within the community. The journey begins quietly, usually after marriage, when a novice chooses his teacher: a paumat, a master shaman from another uma, often an uncle or respected elder from another lineage. A father cannot train his own son; that responsibility must lie outside the immediate family, ensuring that spiritual power flows through wider social bonds.
The paumat is honored with pigs and gifts throughout the training period, and the bond between the two families deepens as the novice progresses.
A novice rarely trains alone. Several young men may enter apprenticeship together, learning side by side and forming friendships that last for life. Their shared discipline — taboos, study, self-denial, and ritual — creates a brotherhood of spirit.
Pukereijat
A Journey of Seclusion, Training, Rituals, Ceremonies, and Initiation
The journey toward becoming a shaman — known as Pukereijat — unfolds over many months and through several distinct phases. It is anchored by a cycle of five major ceremonies. During this time, all non-essential work becomes taboo for the novice; the rhythm of ordinary life slows so that spiritual labor may take precedence.
Before the first ritual begins, the entire community works together: sago flour is prepared in abundance, wood is gathered, bamboo is cut, pigs and chickens are raised, and kabit — the red-dyed bark loincloths of the kerei — are crafted.
Tadde
The First Rite — Opening the Path
Tadde marks the official beginning of the novice’s path.
As dusk falls, the house is ritually cleansed. The kerei summon ancestors, protective spirits, and drive out harmful forces. Evil spirits are driven out using a ceremonial whip (nangaingai), made from tree bark and various kinds of leaves.
When the drums begin, the entire uma vibrates with their resonance: the deep, warm rhythm of the kajeuma — palm-wood drums covered with python or monkey skin and heated by the fire to sharpen their voice.
Throughout the night, shamans dance to these rhythms. Their movements imitate the forest’s creatures — birds, butterflies, monkeys, and other beings whose gestures carry strength, grace, or agility. These dances are more than performance; they awaken the novice’s soul and call upon ancestral presence.
As the hours pass, the dances intensify. Some kerei enter trance, guided by visions, communicating with the world beyond, seeking signs, approval, or warnings. The atmosphere is electric — the boundary between the human realm and the spirit world grows thin.
Tadde is both celebration and summons: the moment when the novice steps into a lineage of mediators, watched closely by spirits and ancestors.
Seclusion in the Pulaeat
A Retreat for Purification and Discipline
After Tadde, the novice and his wife retreat into seclusion at the pulaeat, a small hut deep in the forest, built by the novice with help from family and friends. Here, far from the rhythms of community life, the real work begins.
In a private ceremony at the pulaeat, the paumat — the novice’s teacher — informs the ancestors of the novice’s intention. Offerings are made, and their support is requested, for no shamanic training can succeed without ancestral approval.
The months that follow are marked by strict taboos.
The novice and his wife live simply, without decoration or adornment, focusing on discipline, restraint, and mental preparation. They raise pigs and chickens, tend decorative plants for future ceremonies, and avoid all activities forbidden during this sacred period. Their life becomes quiet and inward, preparing the novice’s soul for the ceremonies ahead.
Preparation for Training
Crafting the Identity of a Future Shaman
While the novice lives in seclusion, family members and close allies prepare his ceremonial attire—the outward expression of his new identity. They craft the luat, a beaded headband that marks clan identity; the tudda, an heirloom necklace of ochre-colored glass beads; and the lekkau, decorated rattan bands worn around the upper arms. They also assemble the jarajara, a hair ornament adorned with feathers and leaves, and the sabo, a skirt of cloth strips and decorated rattan worn during ritual dances.
These garments are not merely decorative; they are tools of spiritual communication. Through them, the spirits recognize the novice as a person ready to speak and listen across worlds.
Rubak: The End of Seclusion
Beginning the Formal Study
When seclusion ends, the community gathers for a great ceremony, rubak, marking the start of formal training.
It is during rubak that the novice shamans for the first time wear the traditional shaman dyed loincloth, kabit, and other shaman adornments made by family members while the novices were in seclusion.
From this point onward, they learn the sacred songs and chants of the kerei, many in the old shamanic language of Simatalu, known only within the shamanic lineage. They receive instruction in ritual practice, healing, and the unseen rules that govern relationships with spirits, ancestors, and the souls of all living beings.
Step by step, the novices assume their role as bridges between everyday life and the world beyond — preparing to one day stand as full kerei, guardians of harmony and mediators between realms.
Over the following days, a series of sacred rituals take place. During Pasi Leilei, senior shamans guide the novices in creating protective fetishes, called gaut, small necklaces traditionally worn by children when they travel to places they have never been before.
During Pasi Teri Ngalou, additional fetish necklaces are prepared for future use in protection and healing. These are made from carefully selected combinations of sacred leaves, combined with hair taken from hunted animals such as monkeys, then wrapped in cloth and bound with red-dyed rattan.
During Kadut Alaket, the salipak — sacred shaman boxes — of the novice kerei are consecrated and receive their first spiritual power. Once initiated, they are placed on wooden frames suspended from the beams of the uma, beside the house’s main pillar, above the place where the rimata — the ritual leader of the uma — sleeps.
Ngalou Abak
Necklace of Fetish Power — Gifts from the Unseen
The ngalou abak is one of the most personal objects in a kerei’s journey — a necklace worn only during apprenticeship, built slowly as the novice gathers sacred fetishes from the unseen world.
Each fetish, called sinerik, is a small spirit-charged object received through visions, dreams, trance encounters, or direct communication with ancestral beings. These objects are not chosen by the novice; they are bestowed. Each one marks a step in his spiritual growth, a sign that the unseen acknowledges his progress.
The necklace begins simply — a woven rattan band decorated with beads. As training unfolds, it grows more complex. Each acquired sinerik is tied beneath the beads, forming a living record of the novice’s relationship with spirits and of the powers entrusted to him.
When the novice appears at ceremonies leading up to initiation, the ngalou abak is unmistakable. It signals that he stands not merely as a student but as someone recognized — someone seen — by forces beyond the human realm.
Though it is worn only during apprenticeship, the ngalou abak is never forgotten. It is kept in the shaman’s salipak, where its fetishes remain part of the shaman’s story, woven into his identity and carried forward into his life as a kerei.
Pasi Geugeu
Calling Strength from the Ancestors
Pasi Geugeu is the second major ceremony of the novice’s training — a ritual held during the day, when sunlight strengthens clarity, intention, and connection with the ancestral realm.
At dawn, the novice, his paumat, the rimata, and senior shamans gather to prepare a powerful mediator: the kinumbu, a small ceremonial tree decorated with carefully chosen sacred leaves and plant-fibers dyed yellow with kiniu, turmeric. Each leaf is selected not for beauty but for its spiritual qualities — purity, protection, or the ability to draw ancestral attention.
When completed, the kinumbu is placed beside the uma, where it stands like a living bridge between worlds.
Here, shamans and novices make offerings to invite ancestral presence. The rimata leads the invocations, guiding the younger shamans in calling the ancestors and teaching the rhythm of communication between worlds. Together they ring their bells, called jejeneng, summoning their ancestral souls, asking for strength, protection, and spiritual power. For novices, this presence can be overwhelming; many fall into deep trance when their bodies are briefly overtaken by ancestral souls.
Around the kinumbu, novices begin to feel the subtle shifts in presence that accompany shamanic work — the first hints of what it means to sense spirits and shoulder ritual responsibility.
Pig sacrifices accompany the day’s rites. Their souls carry petitions to the ancestral realm, asking that power be bestowed on the novices. Each sacrifice reinforces the link between the human community and the unseen — a relationship grounded in reciprocity, respect, and obligation.
These offerings are essential to Sigeugeu. They ensure that when novices take their next steps in training, they do so with ancestral support.
Pasi Geugeu marks the novice’s first public recognition as someone who walks between worlds.
It is a rite of empowerment, not yet initiation — a gathering of strength, a declaration of intention, and a request for guidance. The kinumbu stands as witness to this promise, absorbing and channeling the chants, offerings, and movements of those who prepare to become kerei.
With Pasi Geugeu complete, the novice moves closer to the deeper mysteries ahead — toward Lecu, the first direct confrontation with the boundaries between the human and spirit worlds.
Lecu
Fire and a Protective Anklet
Lecu is the third major ceremony of a novice’s training, a rite that brings him into direct contact with the protective forces that guard the body during shamanic work.
As dusk approaches, shamans gather in the uma to prepare a woven rattan anklet.
This anklet, spiritually blessed and infused with protective power, is tied to the novice’s ankles. It shields him from harm during the ritual that follows — a gift of resilience that will serve him throughout his life as a kerei.
The anklet is not symbolic alone. It is believed to protect the novice from fire, sudden spiritual surges, and the unpredictable forces that accompany contact with the unseen.
With the anklet secured, the novice is guided toward the fire. Senior shamans dance first, stamping around the flames, calling the spirits with rhythmic movement. Then, one by one, they lead the novice directly into the fire’s edge. He moves through the flames, protected by the anklet’s power and the presence of his teachers.
This test is not meant to display invulnerability but to demonstrate spiritual alignment. A novice who hesitates or shows fear may not yet be ready for the deeper rites ahead. Passing through the fire marks him as someone who can carry heat — the heat of ritual strain, the heat of ancestral presence, the heat of spiritual burden.
Pusi gepgep
Introspection — the Night of Silence
Lecu is followed by Pusi Gepgep, a night of silence and darkness. During the day chickens and a pig are sacrificed. When evening falls, the uma remains dark. No lamps are lit. Voices fall still. The uma enters a state of stillness rarely seen at any other time.
In this darkness, the novice reflects on what he has learned and received.
Pusi Gepgep is a pause between worlds — a moment of inward listening before the most secret transformation begins.
Seeing Eyes
Stepping into the Unseen
A few months after Lecu and Sigepgep, when the novice has completed his period of discipline, seclusion, and preparation, he is ready for one of the most guarded moments in Mentawai shamanic tradition — the receiving of “seeing eyes”.
The Hidden Pool
Led by his paumat, the novice travels deep into the forest to a secret pool known only to shamans. Its location may never be revealed, not even to close family.
This secrecy protects the integrity of the rite and shields the novice from unwanted spiritual attention.
At the water’s edge, in solitude and shadow, the paumat performs a quiet invocation, informing the spirits that the novice is ready to see beyond ordinary perception.
The novice kneels over the still surface. A powerful potion is splashed into his eyes by the paumat. The moment is painful, disorienting, and sacred, but the meaning is profound: from this moment onward, he becomes “seeing” — able to perceive spirits, souls, and presences that lie beyond ordinary vision.
The world becomes layered: forest, ancestors, and the many beings who inhabit the unseen all take on new visibility.
This transformation is not dramatic on the outside; it unfolds inwardly, a shift in perception the novice must learn to navigate with care.
A New Kind of Awareness
Stepping away from the pool, he steps into a larger, unseen world.
Receiving “seeing eyes” is a recognition from the spirit realm — a confirmation that the novice has prepared himself properly, endured seclusion and taboo, and demonstrated sincerity during the earlier rites.
Yet it is also a responsibility.
From now on, he must protect his sight — emotionally, spiritually, and ritually — as he learns to distinguish between helpful presences and those that bring imbalance.
Toward Alup
The gift of “seeing eyes” is the final preparation. The paumat guides the novice carefully through these first moments of expanded awareness, teaching him how to maintain composure, how to ground himself, and how to avoid being overwhelmed.
What comes next — Alup — is the true test, when the novice must demonstrate this expanded vision before humans, ancestors, and spirits alike.
With his sight opened, he returns to the uma ready to face the ceremony that will determine whether he becomes a kerei in full.
Alup — The Final Test
Endorsed by Spirits, Accepted by the Community
Alup is the climactic ceremony of a novice’s initiation — the night when he must prove himself before the spiritual realm and humans alike. It is the moment when his training, sacrifices, visions, and discipline converge.
If the spirits accept him, he becomes a kerei.
If not, he must try again.
Preparations for the Great Night
In the days leading up to Alup, the uma transforms.
Huge bamboo poles are erected along the riverbank, one for each pig sacrificed during the novice’s training. They are adorned with sago leaves and wood carvings of birds, fish, and sometimes human figures. Similar carvings — umat simagere, “toys of the souls” — are hung above the entrance of the uma, inviting ancestral and human souls to gather.
Inside, ceremonial garments are readied, tobacco and fabrics are laid out on the veranda as offerings, and pigs are prepared for the sacrifices to come. Guests from neighboring umas arrive, including respected shamans from afar who are invited specifically for this night.
Honoring the Ancestors
As evening falls, the largest pigs are sacrificed to honor the ancestors.
Afterward, a great communal ritual meal is shared, pululak — the rimata, the paumat, the novice, the shamans, and their wives all gathered in full ceremonial attire.
This ritual meal reaffirms the unity of the living community and the ancestral realm, preparing everyone for what lies ahead.
The Night of Ancestral Presence
When darkness settles, the shamans adorn themselves with flowers and decorative leaves that mimic feathers.
The novice covers his body and face with yellow turmeric, kiniu, the color of spiritual readiness.
The kajeuma drums begin — their deep, driving rhythm filling the uma.
Shamans dance like birds, stamping the floor, which itself functions as a great percussive instrument.
The ancestral spirits arrive.
Ceremonial garments, beadwork, fabrics, and tobacco are spread out for them on the floor; in the eyes of the shamans, the spirits take what they desire.
Lajo Tabak — The Dance of the Canoe
Near midnight, as the spirits settle, the shamans perform lajo tabak, the dance of the canoe.
They circle the dance floor, riding invisible waves.
The rimata holds a small model canoe and sings of the journey to Pageta Sabbau, the mythical kerei whose exceptional powers guide the living.
This dance opens the doorway for Pageta Sabbau to join the rituals.
Pageta Sabbau & the Novice
When the dance ends and the drums fall silent, the rimata sits on the dance floor before the fireplace and becomes the living vessel of Pageta Sabbau.
The novice performs a final dance in silence, then kneels before him.
Speaking as Pageta Sabbau, the rimata asks a final series of questions.
These test not only knowledge but readiness: clarity of mind, courage, and respect toward the unseen.
If the answers are correct, the rimata blows softly into the novice’s ears, granting the power to hear the souls.
The Seizing of the Fetish
Then it happens:
The novice suddenly sees the soul of Pageta Sabbau hovering above the rimata, adorned with powerful sinerik fetishes hanging from his jarajara head ornament.
He must seize one.
He jumps up and reaches forward with both hands — and is instantly thrown backwards, collapsing into trance.
His body convulses, his eyes roll back, and sweat pours from him. Senior shamans rush in, restraining him gently while chanting to guide him back.
After a long moment, they slowly open his clenched fists.
Inside, there may lie a sinerik.
If so, Pageta Sabbau has accepted him.
The fetish is tied to his abak ngalou, joining the collection of sacred objects that prove his power and protect his life as a kerei.
If his hands are empty, he must attempt the rite again…
The Confirmation Hunt
Acknowledgement from the Forest Spirits
The next morning, a communal hunt takes place.
Monkeys, deer, and wild boar are believed to be the domestic animals of the forest spirits; their behavior reveals the spiritual world’s final judgment.
A successful hunt confirms that the ancestors and forest beings accept the new shaman.
With the approval of Pageta Sabbau, the hunt fulfilled, and the spiritual realm satisfied, the novice is now recognized as a kerei. From this day onward, he is a healer, mediator, and guardian of balance — able to walk between worlds.
The Shaman's Wife
The kerei’s wife also receives new status. From now on she shares many taboos during her husband’s healing and other ceremonies. Sexual intercourse, cultivation of crops, and fishing are forbidden during ritual periods. Her responsibilities are restrained so her husband’s spiritual work remains undisturbed.
After initiation, she gains new ceremonial privileges — she may now wear the ceremonial teteku, a large head decoration with a luat similar to her husband’s, adorned with feathers, beads, and mother-of-pearl that mark her place beside him on the spiritual path.