<emphasis>Karuhun</emphasis>, Space, Place and Narratives <emphasis>Karuhun</emphasis>, Space, Place and Narratives Karuhun, Space, Place and Narratives
“Ka luhur moal pucukan, ka handap moal akaran” (Ajengan Endang, custodian of Pamijahan, 1997). “New green leaves will never grow at the top of the tree, nor will new roots ever grow at the bottom.”
A. Introduction As mentioned in Chapters 2 and 3, the major meaning of the ancestor narratives is to signify a transformation given to the land: the space of the wild forest transformed into 'hindu land', and later into 'muslim land'. Written narratives in the form of the babad have preserved the villagers’ imagination of the past. There is a clear indication that the babad functions to freeze the genealogy of the ancestors, the karuhun genealogy. However, we see a different focus in narratives of the oral tradition. The Babad does not recite clearly how the protagonist, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi, found a cave, converted Batara Karang, and made shelters in the southern part of the Sunda region. Contrasting with the Babad Pamijahan, oral narratives retell the Wali’s itinerary in this area in a very lively way. If the Babad chronicle tries to draw the importance of Pamijahan in a framework of the Javanese and Sundanese realms, oral narratives tend to focus on the existence of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi in his own time. Oral narratives have implications for the way that villagers imagine their ancestry and territory. The notion of origin in Austronesian societies has been an important issue for anthropology (Fox 1996 and 1997; Bellwood 1996), history and semiotics. (Parmentier 1986) Fox, for instance proposes two useful concepts related to the tracing of origins. The first is the succession of personal names, and the second is ''topogeny''. Topogeny is a metaphorical form where people use a structure of metaphor in order to designate the line of origins in terms of 'a succession of place names'. (Fox, 1997:8) In addition, a similar framework, also suggested by Parmentier, is important in the case of Pamijahan. Parmentier focuses on the meaning of ‘path’ in traditional society. The path is a ‘sediment trace of activity’ and a ‘trajectory’ device. (Tilley 1994; Parmentier 1987) In his semiotic perspective, Parmentier argues that the path relates to three dimensions of semantics. First, the path is recognised as a sign that has an effect on social consciousness. It is able to provide a ‘sign in history’ as seen in narratives that trace the ancestors’ itinerary. Second, the path provides people with a framework or metaphor of hierarchy (cf. Fox 1996:132) where precedence in social rank is linked to the path. Third, the path has a structure which ‘influences’ a walker. To modify the path is to have a certain power to modify cultural strategy, or local affairs. Arguing along the same lines, Tilley (1994: 31) proposes the concept of ‘a serial trajectory’ in which ‘the best way to go’ is written in the path. The path can then be used as hierarchical mnemonic device related to the founders of the village. A criss-crossing of the path and texts creates a space which is also open to interpretation. (cf. Eco 1999) Thus, precedence and contestation are important issues. (Fox 1996:146) While the Babad Pamijahan focuses more on the description of the ancestors of Muhyi, the oral traditions, which are used by the custodians as a pivotal source for their history of the Shaykh, tend to focus on the contemporaries of the Wali and his descendants. For instance, oral tradition retells the story of his journey to Aceh and Mecca to acquire the teachings of Islam, his mystical journey to the southern part of Priangan in search of a cave for meditation, or his conversion of the villagers to Islam. The custodians classify these narratives as the speech of ancestors, or kasauran karuhun, sometimes is called pitutur karuhun. This chapter then aims to explain the relationship between spatial concepts and genealogy as well as the mystical journey of the founder of the village.
B. <emphasis>Karuhun</emphasis> In Sunda, particularly in Pamijahan, ‘our ancestors’, or karuhun urang, can refer to the founding ancestors, a single ancestor, the village ancestors, or to family ancestors. Karuhun is a central concept in the village culture, referring to the founder, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi, as well as to his companions and to Muhyi’s ancestors. The line of descent after Shaykh Abdul Muhyi, which is called kolot or kolot urang is also crucial. It influences the social interaction in the village. On the other hand, the line of karuhun is stable, in so far as it is generally accepted and agreed upon. It connects the villagers directly to the network of the Nine Saints of Java or wali sanga, as well as to the King of Sunda. In Sunda, these lines seem compulsory since they help Sundanese to ‘domesticate’ their conversion to Islam. (Djajadiningrat 1913 and 1965) The narratives reflect the dynamics of 16th century Java when Islam penetrated from Cirebon on the north coast to Galuh and from Banten to Pajajaran. (cf. Lombard 1996) In other words, the story is able to provide a better framework for the villagers to respond to the mixed myth of their ancestors. In their narratives concerning village ancestors, or karuhun, villagers rarely refer to the king of Sunda, but they often make references to the Saints of Java. This is due to the fact that the Islamization of this area was undertaken by people from Cirebon as well as a number of Mataram missionaries. Sometimes, in different settings, villagers will refer both to Sundanese and Javanese ancestors as long as they are Muslims. The Muslim ancestors receive more attention than the pre-Islamic ones. Stories of the past are able to reconcile the contradiction between the winner, the Muslims, and the defeated, pre-Islamic Hindu Sunda. In the Babad Pamijahan, the genealogy of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi starts with Sunan Giri and and continues through Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s descendants from his four wives. Accordingly, in ritual speech, Pamijahanese enumerate ancestral spirits starting from Shaykh Abdul Muhyi. The Shaykh is the founding ancestor of Pamijahan, and in ritual, they call him Eyang. Eyang in Pamijahan is close to the concept described by Sakai (1997: 49) in Gumai society of south Sumatra. Sakai argues that the Gumai puyang is an ancestor associated with a particular origin place. An eyang belongs the category of founding ancestors, or karuhun. The term is used for apical ancestors of Pamijahanese who set up a new village. In rituals they say ''Let's recite prayers for karuhun urang, all of our ancestors''. The second level generation after the eyang is called sepuh urang. A sepuh urang is the origin point of a subgroup within a village, still relatively close to the contemporary life of eyang. In the village, the line of succession of names is called the kokocoran or the ‘source of the river’. It is perceived as a river flowing vertically down from the karuhun. According to the custodian Ajengan Endang, ''By defining these lines, it is clear that the sacred tomb and other sacred territories, from the death of the Wali until now, have been maintained by four kokocoran.”
Figure 9. The four main lines of descent
The village’s karuhun is now a place of pilgrimage and the villagers are mostly dependent economically upon its associated pilgrimage (ziarah). In such circumstances, kokocoran is pivotal in the contemporary village, as sub-groupings can influence the 'management' of rituals and the balance of power in village politics. The ‘flow of the river’, the kokocoran, or the generation after the Wali’s line is unstable and susceptible to contestations of precedence (see Chapters 8 and 9). In this chapter, I will primarily focus on a narrative of space and place. As will be seen below, a mystical itinerary of the founder and the genealogy are two important ‘grounds’ for seeing the landscape of Pamijahan. Before I discuss these two elements of landscape, I will first describe how the contemporary Pamijahanese see landscape. In doing so I will show the villagers’ own point of view of their space and places through the map drawn by a local artist under the custodian’s supervision.
C. The Sacred Landscape of Pamijahan and its Environs When I came to the village of Pamijahan for the purpose of fieldwork in June 1997, I met the chief custodian in his house. I asked the general question: how many sacred sites are there in this village? This was the first structured question to which I expected that the custodian would respond at length. But instead of providing an extended answer, he went outside and picked up a book (Khaerussalam 1996) from a vendor on the verandah. He said:
You will find out everything from this history (book). There is also a map inside that tells you which sites are regarded as sacred. (The custodian, 1996) Encep tiasa uninga sagala rupina dina ieu Sajarah. Malih mah di dieu oge aya peta anu ngagambarkeun mana wae anu disebat karamat.
To the custodian, the book and its map of the spatial organisation of the village would tell readers all they needed to know. What you see in the map is what you find in ‘reality’. The map also shows the ‘path’ the pilgrims should take. The map refers to its referents by similarities and pointing. Thus, a peta, a map, functions both as an iconic and indexical sign. If we follow arguments given by the custodian, the map is like a photograph or picture drawn in a realistic mode. From another perspective, the map can be seen as a ‘sedimented tradition’. (Tilley 1994) The map is not really an iconic picture that has a contiguous relation with its reference. It is a sign that refers to its reference through a mediation of convention or tradition. This sign may be called a ‘symbolic sign’ in which people have to learn about it in order to understand it. The custodian’s narratives establish the relationship between the map and its reference. From the point of view of the custodian, outsiders have to know the sajarah, or history, and the main source for broadcasting this history is the custodian himself.
Figure 10. The map of the sacred places of Pamijahan (Khaerussalam 1992: 35)
A wall-map size variant of this map is appended at the rear of this thesis. As a representation, the map cannot be detached from collective views. It reflects a landscape of human rather than physical geography. According to Tilley (1994: 31), “To understand a landscape truly it must be felt, but to convey some of this feeling to others it has to be talked about, recounted or written and depicted.” The custodians supply villagers with a narrative, telling and showing the significance of interrelated places. This can be seen as a collective and ordered representation or symbol. The map is a legisign, that is, through iconic and an indexical modes it creates various interpretants. The interpretant, according to Peirce, is part of the third trichotomy which he calls “A sign addressed to somebody that creates in the mind of that person an equivalent sign, or perhaps a more developed sign. That sign which it creates I call the interpretant of the first sign.” (See also Winfried North, 1995:43) So the map of Pamijahan may differ from a geographical map produced by a government or research institution called a ‘rational map’. Unlike a ‘rational’ map, the landscape in the Pamijahan map is not arranged following directional correlates as in an iconic map. Rather it presents them as a medium, contextualised, with temporal stages and contestations, that is as a symbolic map. Distance and hierarchy of place from a particular perspective are retained symbolically. Most notably, the centre is the saint’s shrine and other places are peripheral. The custodian’s map, like other nonverbal signs such as paintings, photographs etc. appeals to us in various ways. Unlike language which can be read linearly from the left to right or vice versa, the map offers spatial direction where we can start to ‘read’ from the left, right, top, bottom, or using a diagonal perspective. All elements of images in the map come to our perception simultaneously. In other words, we need a strategy to ‘read’ the map properly, and the ‘method’ for doing this is in fact verbalised and narrated by the custodian. Semiotically, if we use a reading strategy, then, we will find that the centre of the map is occupied by a shrine and the sacred village. If we read the map as a linear text then we will find ‘a path’ functioning as an index which is called a petunjuk by the custodian, that is, an indexical sign allowing the pilgrims to explore all the sacred sites shown in the map. Such and indexical sign is derived from tradition. A linear construction imposed on the map is a crucial point in our understanding of village culture. (This is further explored in Chapters 8 and 9.) In fact, from the point of view of the custodian, the map is a pointing device that refers in particular to the paths in Pamijahan and surrounding areas Although the map’s label reads Petunjuk Jalan Anda untuk Berziarah di Pamijahan dan Sekitarnya” (“A Pointer to the Path You Should Follow When Undertaking Pilgrimage in Pamijahan and Adjacent Places”), we do not understand the significance of the interconnectedness of the places in the map until we hear the narration given by the custodian. And for the custodian, to give guidance by making the map and providing a commentary on it is obligatory and is an expression of his piety. In this case Marcel Danesi and Paul Perron (1999:188) state that ''A map is, overall, an indexical sign, since it indicates where the territory is located on the terra firma. Its layout is iconic, because it shows the features in a territory in topographical relation to each other. It involves symbolicity because it is interpretable on the basis of conventional notational system…'' The custodian (kuncen) told me that the appropriate way to be aware of the meaning of the sacred backdrop in the village was by first disclosing the importance of the trail and places displayed on the map. As he told be this he often put his finger on to the map, explaining the route and the places found on it. The map points to several sacred places, where, according to the custodian, visitors perform their pilgrimage in Desa Pamijahan. These are: the tomb of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi or Makom Kangjeng Shaykh; the grave of Bengkok or Makom Bengkok; the grave of Panyalahan or Makom Panyalahan; the grave of Yudanagara or Makom Yudanagara; and the grave of Pandawa or Makom Pandawa. Other sacred sites are the Sacred Mosque or Masjid Karamat; the sacred cave or Guha Karamat (also Guha Safarwadi); and finally the sacred village or Kakaramatan Pamijahan. What is important for our discussion is the fact that two important narratives connect these places. The first five are sacred tombs that are genealogically linked to Shaykh Abdul Muhyi. The others are artefacts that are historically associated with the Wali's journey. These associations are evident only if the custodian wishes to narrate the two relevant stories. The map itself doesn’t uncover such interconnections. Only narratives can connect them. Relating the narratives of genealogy to spaces, I will discuss three important phenomena in the sites. First, I will sketch the imagined space and hereditary lines, or kokocoran, as reflected in the guild of custodians in the village assembly, or the pakuncenan. Second, I will describe the relation between genealogy and particular places such as tombs, the sacred village and other villages in the valley. Third, I will discuss the relation between the itinerary of the Wali’s mystical journey, the path, and the places in the valley.
D. Four Symbolic Spaces When I first encountered Pamijahan and began to grapple with its many issues, I was most struck by the way the villagers manage the thousands of visitors who come to the sacred sites each day. Talking about organizational issues in Pamijahan is to talk about certain aspects of the past and about genealogy. From the chief custodian’s explanation of the guild of custodians (pakuncenan) it becomes clear how genealogy is used metaphorically for spatial arrangements. The custodians have published a small book called 'Sejarah Perjuangan Shaykh Haji Abdul Muhyi Waliyullah Pamijahan, or ‘The History of the Struggle of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi of Pamijahan’. (Khaerussalam 1992) The book is regarded as an official written history in contemporary Pamijahan. It consists of four chapters representing historical sequences, starting from the birth of the Shaykh, his mission, his activities in West Java, and the subsequent management of the sacred sites. The most pivotal points regarding the spatial signs, which connect genealogy to the concept of space in the village, are found in Chapters III and IV. In Chapter III the custodian reports that, ''The council of the village initially agreed to distribute the right of management of the sites and the territory around the village to three groups (pongpok), derived from Abdul Muhyi’s three children from his first wife named Ayu Bakta”. (Khaerussalam 1992:39) Later a fourth group was added.
Figure 11. Genealogy and the <emphasis>pongpok</emphasis>.
The 'source river', kokocoran, as seen from the diagram above, constitutes an imagined place and ritual space. Later, as will be discussed below, these four sources, kokocoran, were attached metaphorically to the four sides of the tomb of the Wali. Genealogies are found in the abstraction of space, or pongpok. Pongpok literally means 'a side'. It is easy for the villagers to imagine their social relations based on a system of inherited relations. This pattern of relations has been concretized in the form of the four sides, or pongpok of the rectangular tomb. Pongpok not only refers to the walls or sides of the rectangular shrine or tomb but also is a metaphor for social structure and cultural space where various rituals can be conducted. What is unique to Pamijahan is that lines of descent, or pongpok, as a sub group are metaphorically associated with the rectangular shape of the tomb. Shaykh Abdul Muhyi had four wives. The sacred territory is dominated by a family descended from the first wife who gave birth to four children. But, Muhyi’s fourth child, Paqih Ibrahim, moved outside the village and a son from the second wife assumed his right to the sacred space. From there, four sub-groups were derived in which precedence in controlling the pongpok of the shrine was accorded to the group from the first wife. From the information given by the custodians, the divisions of space were created later after pilgrims from outside the village began to visit the graveyard. The following is the narrative delivered by A.A. Khaerusalam with regard to the founding of the four pongpok.
After having discussions (musyawarah ) the village council decided that the Tomb (makam) and its surrounding area be maintained. Firstly, these tasks were offered to the three families or sides (pongpok ) which were derived from the three sons of Kangjeng Shaykh Haji Abdul Muhyi from his first wife, Ayu Bakta. The sons were (1) Sembah Dalem Bojong, (2) Shaykh Abdulloh and (3) Media Kusuma... Furthermore they also agreed to give the status of caretaker to another family, that of Muhyi’s wife, Sembah Ayu Salamah... So the division of care of Muhyi’s tomb was distributed among these four main families (Khaerussalam: 38-39).
The decision of the village council had a significant impact on the social life of the village. It not only determined relations among members of each family, but also symbolically distributed the wali’s blessing among the pongpok. It also created a body or ‘guild’ of custodians (pakuncenan) which consists of four of Muhyi’s descendants. The kapongpokan, the symbolic spatial organisation based on the four pongpok is not a formal right to lands based on government policy. Rather it is a symbolic claim on lands which shows a traditional territory based the loyalty, karumaosan, of the people who live in this area. The traditional territory under kapongpokan can be divided into four imaginaary sections. In the past, all these areas were called ‘charity lands’ perdikan or tanah pasidkah. (Quinn 2002) These ‘charity lands’ used to be free from land tax, but today the government has imposed a tax on this area. The term tanah pasidkah is now no longer used but rather kapamijahanan. In the local language, kapamijahan is a further nominalisation of Pamijahan, and in the villagers’ view is no less important than tanah pasidkah. This is reflected in the loyalty of the people who live in the four areas to the east, north, west, and south of the shrine. They have the responsibility to maintain the shrine by donating their money, skills and labour. People in these areas have a leader called ‘the pongpok leader’ who will lead them in performing rituals. Outsiders cannot control the pongpok system. No-one is able to modify this system because, according to the ancestors’ testimony, “Green leaves will not grow at the top of the tree, nor will roots grow at the bottom”. (Ajengan Endang 1997) The division of the space in Pamijahan shows a hierarchy in sign systems. According to the notion of pongpok, the shrine is located in the central village surrounded by sub-villages associated with the pongpok. The first pongpok occupies the South side, the second, third, and fourth pongpok occupy the East, North, and the West sides respectively. Each pongpok has a leader (ketua pongpok). The notion of pongpok functions particularly in rituals, especially pilgrimages, Islamic celebrations and annual rituals associated with the shrine. In these rituals, each pongpok plays a very important role. For the ritual renovation of Muhyi's shrine, for example, every pongpok brings their own materials to the shrine to maintain the part of the shrine associated with their pongpok. Furthermore, in pilgrimage rituals, the concept of pongpok influences social interaction. Custodianship, or pakuncenan, is a real translation of genealogy into ritual space in the village, since the custodians of the shrine come from the pongpok system. The position of chief custodian is life-long and an elected post. The custodian in charge of staff and the day-to-day running of the pilgrimages, is rotated weekly among the four pongpok.
E. <emphasis>Kokocoran</emphasis> and the Notion of Proximity As we have seen, the imaginary landscape of Pamijahan, the abstraction of the space, has a significant influence in social and symbolic interaction. Accordingly, as a text landscape should be conceived, to borrow Umberto Eco's words, as an open text, opera aperta. (Eco 1962: 240) There is a point where people can negotiate the structure of the text. Precedence in time is affirmed and even contested by various ‘reading conventions’. To manage these ‘negotiations’, another narrative has come into existence. According to the villagers, the village must also be conceived of as a circle in which the centre where the shrine is located is the most sacred space. As evidence, another custodian has drawn a different type of map (below).
Figure 12. The other map drawn by custodians
Figure 13. The nested, or concentric, sacred domains of Pamijahan
A space, which was previously empty or just a ‘wild forest’, has become an arena where various representations are ‘erected’. As seen in the second map (figure 12), the centre is believed by villagers to be the most sacred place in the village where the blessing of the Wali instantly materialises. The map was also drawn by a member of the staff of custodians. Unlike the previous map, the custodian here focuses in more detail on broader topography. This map also clearly supplies a marker for a boundary of the sacred village, or Pamijahan. In the custodian’s view, kapamijahanan is a cultural concept referring to a rectangular framed space on the map. This spatial arrangement is associated with two factors. First, according to the villagers, the sacred area was established before Shaykh Abdul Muhyi was buried there. Oral tradition tells that once the Wali ‘went’ to Mecca to perform the Friday prayer together with another wali. This is a widely told story with several variants. For example, a similar story is told in connection with Shaykh Bela-Belu and his friend Maulana Magribi whose tombs overlook the coast at Parangtritis south of Yogyakarta. Shaykh Abdul Muhyi travelled under the sea, while his colleague travelled on the surface. According to villagers, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi arrived in Mecca later than his friend, because he stopped to smoke a cigarette during the journey. He was unable to see the way to Mecca through the smoke and only after he put out his cigarette could he continue. After he returned to Pamijahan, he ordered his family, as well as followers, to refrain from smoking in his area. The ‘non-smoking area’ in the centre of Pamijahan has a root in this narrative. The close relatives of the Wali, including the custodians, mostly occupy this area where the Wali was buried. To maintain the inner space, the Pamijahanese have built a clear boundary between the outer and inner domains. The most obvious signs which distinguishes the sacred village from the profane one, is an arched entrance gate, or kaca-kaca. On each pillar of the gate prohibitions are written, reminding villagers and visitors that they are entering the sacred village. According to the guidelines written on the pillars, known as tali paranti, villagers and visitors are forbidden to smoke, to wear hats, to use umbrellas, and to drive vehicles into the inner area. Furthermore, upon passing through the gates, one should wear appropriate clothes based on Islamic tradition. Villagers and visitors believe that breaching this custom is disgraceful and puts them at risk of not receiving the Shaykh’s blessing. The kaca-kaca, unlike other artefacts in the village, was devised by the contemporary relatives of the holy man. According to Mama Satibi, a senior custodian, some of the Wali’s relatives living outside the village, prominent Islamic scholars, raised funds to build the gate. Abdul Muhyi himself did not erect it. However, the relatives built it in response to the Wali’s testimony that all villagers and visitors who come to his place, Kampung Pamijahan, must obey his rules. The area covered by this tradition is marked by its original boundary: a small river in the North and the East, a small sacred mosque (masjid) in the West and a hill in the South. In contemporary Pamijahan, these boundaries are the subject of reshaping and debate. Members of one pongpok have claimed that the present boundary embraces an area larger than the original one but another group believes that the present margin is the original one. This controversy has consequences, particularly for villagers who choose to live both inside and outside the sacred area. According to the first group, the gate should be erected outside the boundary, but, for the latter group, it should be exactly on the border. At he moment, the latter group still lives within the sacred area but many do not comply with rules prescribed for the sacred area. They smoke in this area without fear of their ancestor's prohibition.
F. The Places
a. The Tomb of the Shaykh (<emphasis>Makom Kangjeng Shaykh</emphasis>) Following a path, after five minutes’ walk from the custodian’s office, one crosses a narrow bridge over the Ci Pamijahan river. Passing through a small gate, the path leads to a small hill, on top of which the shrine is located. At the foot of the hill, taps and showers (pancuran) are used for ablutions (wudu). Half way along the pathway, there are also bathing facilities and toilets for visitors who wish to stay for a longer time. From the foot of the hill visitors can walk up the pathway to where the shrine is located. Approaching the shrine, there is another, smaller kaca-kaca decorated with calligraphy, giving the name of the wali buried there. This calligraphy has been modified and is now different from what was reported by Rinkes (1909). In changing the inscription, the custodians have ignored criticism from the so-called modernists, namely members of Persis and Muhammadiyah, who have made the accusation that Pamijahan is a ‘pamujaan’ or a place for worshipping something other than God. The custodians have removed the previous calligraphy and replaced it with an Indonesian phrase reminding visitors to perform pilgrimage based on Islamic teaching. The shrine itself is built in a quadrangle, about 18 metres square. The building has three main rooms, separated by walls, each room being connected by a door which is open at all times except for the door connected to the main gravesite, the makom itself. The grave of the Wali occupies a small room. The first room is called the place for pilgrims (tempat nu ziarah) and is used by visitors to recite the Quran. Pilgrims may also use it to recite particular formulaic chants (amalan) given by the custodian, or they may do their own reading there. Pilgrims usually rest there too. Before entering the second room, there is another room called the first place for pilgrimage (tempat penziarahan pertama). Here are buried three of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s wives, his son and his famous aristocratic follower from Sukapura, Subamanggala. Ironically, although Sembah Abdullah, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s son and his successor as leader of the Shattariyyah order, is buried here, only a few visitors pay their respects at his tomb. Subamanggala, the nobleman from Sukapura, buried in the east corner of the shrine, also receives little interest from visitors. His family have even put an aristocratic symbol, an umbrella (payung) on the top of the grave to catch visitors’ attention, but it does not appear to add to its sacredness. The second room, called the tawassul room, is often used for the main ritual, which is performed by visitors under the guidance of a kuncen. Visitors and the custodian sit around the makom. There is a shelf for making offerings or for putting perfume, incense, and other materials to be blessed. Visitors are forbidden to rest or sleep in this second room because visitors are always coming in and out. The third room is the interior of the makom area. In this area, there is a grave which is topped by a canopy made from white cotton cloth (kulambu). The grave (paesan) of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi is marked by a tombstone (tetengger). Timber logs extend along each side of the grave. Unlike many other sacred places in Java, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s tomb does not have a permanent superstructure, or paesan/cungkup made from concrete or stones. These features to some extent represent an orthodox view regarding the structure of Moslem tombs, which can also be found at the Prophet Muhammad’s tomb. According to the villagers, it is not compulsory to build a permanent paesan because it will burden the dead. See also Rinkes (1910). Only large pebbles cover the graves of the saint’s disciples. According to local conception, this leaves them free to rise on the Day of Resurrection, almost an impossibility had the graves been closed with cement. On both sides there are simple gravestones called tutunggul (or tetengger in high Sundanese). Sometimes the term paesan is used.
Figure 14. The interior of the Wali's tomb. Few people are allowed to enter this space.
The grave of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi is five metres by five metres in area. It is surrounded by a canopy of white cloth which is attached to a frame made from wooden boards. An 8.7 metre length concrete wall encircles the paesan, also covered by the white cloth, kulambu. Between the grave (paesan) and this wall, there is also a space about a metre in width where Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s close family can perform their rituals personally.
b. Kampung Panyalahan The second biggest hamlet in Pamijahan is Panyalahan. Here there is a second important tomb called the Makom Shaykh Khatib Muwahid. Shaykh Khatib Muwahid married Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s sister Sembah Kudrat. The old custodian in Panyalahan recounts that Shaykh Khatib is also called Shaykh Sembah Abd al-Kedu or Shaykh Abdul from Kedu. He was of Javanese origin and was a follower of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s teaching. Local narratives also recount that Shaykh Khatib Muwahid was Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s closest companion, who used to teach the master’s pupils. Panyalahan custodians say that Khatib Muwahid means ‘the best teacher’ (ìn Arabic, khatib, ‘teacher’; muwahid ‘one’, or, ‘the first’). Therefore, his tomb is famous among students of Islam (santri) who want to study the Holy Qur’an and books of interpretation and commentary (kitab). Approaching the tomb from the cave to the north, one passes first through the hamlet of Panyalahan then walks to the western part of Panyalahan through paddy fields. Shaykh Khatib Muwahid is buried in the foothills, surrounded by stands of mahogany trees. Approaching the tomb, one passes through another gate (kaca-kaca) on the pillars of which are written the name of the holy man. Before entering the shrine, one should make ablutions from a water fountain at the right, close to the gate. The shrine has two main spaces. The first is a place for offerings (tempat nu ziarah) and the second in the centre is the makom (the grave) which is enclosed by a concrete frame. Unlike the Makom Shaykh Abdul Muhyi, visitors can clearly see the holy man’s tomb through spaces in the frame. According to the custodian of Panyalahan, only ten percent of pilgrims coming to Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s shrine continue their pilgrimage on to Panyalahan. From the point of view of the Pamijahanese, it is not compulsory to perform pilgrimage at this site. Villagers from Kampung Pamijahan (the centre) say that Shaykh Khatib Muwahid settled in the wrong place, and that is why they call it the wrong place or Panyalahan. The root salah means ‘wrong’ or ‘mistaken’. Panyalahan is a derivative of salah meaning ‘where a mistake happened’ or ‘where mistakes happen’. Another legend has it that Shaykh Khatib Muwahid did not obey Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s instructions perfectly. Indeed, there is significant evidence of the villagers’ different interpretations of this. The Panyalahanese tend to avoid the name Panyalahan due to its negative connotations. According to them, the name is associated with two narratives. The first is a local narrative regarding the origin of the village and the second is a local history regarding a Dutch map-making excursion which was confounded by the topography of the area. According to the Panyalahanese, there was once a peasant couple who lived in this place. They were the only farmers in the area. They had some domesticated animals, one of which was a tiger. After several years, they found more happiness in their lives after they had a baby. They worked harder than before so that they achieved bumper harvests in every season. If they went to the paddy field, the tiger cared for their baby. One day, they found the tiger waiting at the gate with blood on his teeth. The farmer was very angry. He said, “You cursed animal! I cared for you but you seized my baby in your jaws.” The farmer then pulled out his machete (bedog) and said, “This is your punishment, and blood must be repaid by blood.” He struck the tiger which died instantly. When they entered their hut, they found the baby still alive with a dead poisonous snake around its neck. They realised that the tiger had saved their son from the snake. After that, the place was called Panyalahan or ‘the place of the wrong guess’. The second narrative relates to the theme of the coming of the Dutch. According to the custodian of Panyalahan, the Dutch came to their village for the purpose of making a map. With some followers, they made several coordinates on the map associated with the rivers which cross the village. After they had finished drawing the lines on their new map, they tried to match it to the real situation. However, they found that they could never find the same pattern that had been drawn on their map. Indeed, they were unable to identify two similar rivers which crossed the village. They had put only one river in their map. Therefore, that, according to the villagers, is why the Dutch called it the ‘place of unknown coordinates’ or panyalahan. The villagers have yet another legend. According to them, their village was often used by Shaykh Abdul Muhyi and his companion to solve problems (masalah) regarding how to convert the pagans around them. According the custodian, the original name for their kampung was Pamasalahan (‘the place for problem solving’). So, instead of using the name Panyalahan they prefer to use Pamasalahan, the name which appears in their later narratives. These days there is a Pamasalahan Mosque, a Pamasalahan Primary School and a Pamasalahan hamlet. Ironically, the name of Panyalahan is already recorded in government archives and they cannot remove it. Later in the chapter we shall return to the effort of the people of Panyalahan/Pamasalahan to create their own tradition, something difficult to do since Pamijahan possesses the dominant sacred symbols. The Wali is the centre and his friends and relatives (qaraba) are the second and third rings of the landscape. Panyalahan lies within the second ring in village culture because the village founder was the brother-in-law of the Wali. Thus, the Panyalahanese do not have access to the custodianship of the saint’s shrine. This situation creates resentment in Panyalahan, especially as the number of pilgrims who come to this shrine continues to increase.
c. Makom Yudanagara Yudanagara was a brother-in-law of Abdul Muhyi. Yudanagara’s tomb is situated within Kampung Pamijahan but outside the non-smoking area. Some visitors continue their pilgrimage to this tomb to perform a fast in which their intake of food is restricted to rice or non-coloured foods and beverages, mainly cassava and water. This ascetic practice is called tirakat or mutih. Some pilgrims believe that Yudanagara is the right hand of Muhyi in spiritual power. This is reflected in his name. Yuda means ‘war’ and nagara means ‘the state’. Yudanagara then is a figure who has both spiritual power in war and is a guardian of the state. Even though the place is relatively close to the shrine and the non-smoking area, the custodians in the non-smoking area do not manage the site.
d. Makom Pandawa The fourth sacred site is the grave of Shaykh Abdulqohar in Kampung Pandawa. This site is situated in the northern part of Desa Pamijahan. The Pandawa tomb is another example of how a marginal sacred site has tried with affiliate to Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s tomb. Rinkes reported that Shaykh Abdulqohar was the brother of Muhyi, but the Pamijahanese themselves never claim this. Neither does the custodian of the Pandawa tomb, who describes Shaykh Abdulqohar simply as Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s companion. According to the Pandawa custodian, Shaykh Abd Abdulqohar was Abdul Muhyi’s closest companion not Shaykh Khatib Muwahid or Yudanagara. He was the right hand of Muhyi. From the above it seems to me that the number of related sacred tombs is limited to the number of figures classified as the founders of the villages even though two of them, Yudanagara and Pandawa, do not have a blood relationship with Shaykh Abdul Muhyi.
G. Mystical Paths In the valley of Pamijahan one of the most important ways of making a serial trajectory is to follow the mystical itinerary undertaken by Shaykh Abdul Muhyi. Villagers make coordinates in their landscape referring to the ‘mystical journey’ of their ancestors. As we saw above, places in the village of Pamijahan are attached to the past through the metaphor of a mystical journey performed by their ancestors. Each point indicates the place where Shaykh Abdul Muhyi made a shelter, or stopped in his the mystical journey. The narrative is crucial in this case because the experience of tracing the path has to be broadcast to others. Broadcasting narratives needs a special person such as the kuncen. Accordingly, tracing and depicting the path is not only important for making the space and place in a material sense, it is also important in the transformation of the metaphor of genealogy into ritual and social structure. In Pamijahan, everyday activities engage with these narratives. Every single Pamijahanese can recite that Shaykh Abdul Muhyi came from Mataram and that from his father he had Sundanese and from his mother he had Javanese blood (see also Chapter 4). Through his Javanese blood, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi derived a holy genealogy linking him to the nine Saints of Java The nine Saints of Java (Wali Sanga) are the well-known, semi-legendary first missionaries of Islam in Java. The nine Saints are Sunan Ampel, Sunan Bonang, Sunan Giri, Sunan Drajat, Sunan Gunung Jati, Sunan Kalijaga, Sunan Kudus, Maulana Malik Ibrahim and Sunan Muria. and to the Prophet himself. What is significant here is that Shaykh Abdul Muhyi, in his journeys, recognised Pamijahan as a mystical destination because in this place he found the sacred cave suggested to him by the grand master of Sufism, Shaykh Abd al -Qadir Jailani (see Chapter 9). The cave was the final destination in a mystical journey undertaken by Shaykh Abdul Muhyi. There is a second narrative of a mystical journey relating to the everyday activities of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi after he founded Pamijahan. According to the villagers, after he found the sacred cave he settled in Bengkok. The discovery of the cave created a spatial link between three important places namely the cave, the village of Pamijahan, and the village of Bengkok. In Sundanese bengkok means ‘bent’ or ‘curved’. In Bengkok, the river Ci Pamijahan makes a sharp curve. These places are connected by the history of the search for the cave and make up the entity called Pamijahan. According to the custodians, the Wali went to the cave for meditation regularly for various periods and returned to Bengkok. In Bengkok, he met a local woman who later became his first wife. Accordingly, in the Pamijahan landscape, Bengkok is important because it was once the Wali’s shelter and his father-in-law’s home. During periods of meditation, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi often rested in the valley between the cave and Bengkok. In this valley, he built a mosque known as the Sacred Mosque, (Masjid Karamat). These artefacts are recognised as material evidence of his wali-hood. The Pamijahanese believe that the holy man bequeathed a sacred heritage to the villagers. This heritage consists of artefacts ranging from material items such as the Sacred Mosque the Sacred Tomb (Makom Karamat), the sacred village (the nonsmoking area), a sacred rosary, a sacred robe (jubah), sacred manuscripts, and spiritual artefacts such as the torikoh Shattariyyah. The following are the principle of these artefacts.
a. Bengkok Kampung Bengkok is located about ten minutes’ walk through the paddy fields from Masjid Karamat in Kampung Pamijahan. This village is classified as being in the second ring. It is called Kampung Bengkok because it is located in the valley close to a bend (bengkok) in the river. Here, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi’s father in law, Sembah Dalem Sacaparana, is buried. The place is popular among woman pilgrims who are looking for a husband. Unlike Pamijahan and Panyalahan, Bengkok is a rather backward area, which does not yet have electricity. Only specialists Among the pilgrims there are those who are recognised as pilgrimage ‘specialists’ (ahli). They have experience in pilgrimage rituals and other additional rituals. Specialist are also recognised by their spiritual powers. or those who want to perform additional rituals will come to this site.
Figure 15. Points in Abdul Muhyi’s sacred journey, now sacred places.
In village narratives, Bengkok is recognised as the second station in Muhyi’s mystical journey after he found the sacred cave. He lived here for a long time and married a local woman. Unlike Panyalahan, Bengkok has been attached to the mystical journey of the Wali. Thus, even though Bengkok is located in the second ring, situated outside the non-smoking area, its position slightly differs to that of Panyalahan. The arrow sign placed close to the custodian’s office mentions clearly that pilgrims are welcome in Bengkok. However, we can not find the same signs for Panyalahan. The place is important because it is touched not only by family linkages but also by the mystical journey. Whatever has been used by the Wali is important.
b. Guha Safarwadi When he studied Sufism in Mecca, Abdul Muhyi’s master Abdul Rauf In the history of Sufism in Indonesia, Abd Rauf al-Singkel is known as the master of Shattariyah. He stands between the two opposed groups groups led by Hamzah Fansuri and Nur al-Din al-Raniriri. The former promoted a rather heterodox mysticism derived from that of al-Hallaj and the later was influenced by very orthodox teaching. of Singkel ordered him to meditate in the Safarwadi cave, the place where the famous Sufi Shaykh Abd al-Qadir Jailani obtained an acknowledgment (ijazah) from his master Shaykh Sanusi. Now, the cave is recognised as the place of meditation (tempat tawajjuh) of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi. The Safarwadi cave is also reputed to have been the meeting place where Kangjeng Shaykh met other saints of Java. The cave, which is 284 metres long and 24.5 wide has several chambers. Each chamber has a tunnel running off it, which is regarded as a ‘door’. These doors ‘connect’ the cave to the centre of pilgrimage in Mecca and to the tombs of other great walis in Surabaya and Cirebon and Banten. Besides the doors, the cave also has a place for meditation (tempat tapa), a spring of holy water (tempat cai zam-zam), a spring of the water of life (tempat cai kahuripan), a mosque which consists of two spaces, one for women and one for men, a vault pocked with round indentations in the roof (jabal kupiah), a space known as the ‘boarding school’ (pasantren), a space known as the ‘kitchen’ (dapur) and ledges of rock called ‘altars’ (paimaran). The cave is open 24 hours a day for villagers except on Fridays. On Fridays from 11 am - 2 pm the cave is closed because according to villagers, at this time, Kangjeng Shaykh often ‘performs’ communal weekly Friday prayer (jumaah) there. For the believers, the Wali is still alive in a different world but he often comes to the village to see his descendants. During his lifetime, he often went to Mecca for the Friday communal prayers` through the cave. Sultan Agung has the title of prabu pandita (king-priest) because he was also able to perform the shalat prayers each Friday in Mecca (see W.L. Olthof, trans. Babad Tanah Djawi, Javanese rijkskroniek, Dordrecth: Foris for KITLV, 1987 p. 122). Today villagers still believe that the Wali comes to the cave every Friday to perform Friday prayer in Mecca. Thus, during the period of Friday prayer, villagers close the gate of the cave. In the cave, visitors first take holy-water (cai zam-zam) and put it in his plastic containers (jariken.) After that, they climb to the mosque or Masjid. This place is believed to be another holy mosque where Kangjeng Shaykh Haji Abdul Muhyi used to perform prayers shalat when he was undertaking meditation. Visitors often chant a calling prayer (azan) in the dome (quba). For older visitors, it is difficult to stay in the Masjid for long during the peak seasons because the oxygen is reduced by the hundreds of pilgrims and the guides to the cave (nu jajap ka guha) who bring push lamps. However, in the low season, the place is silent and some visitors prefer to perform meditation (tapa). Most ordinary pilgrims (nu ziarah biasa) stay here for ten minutes, reciting their own supplication (doa). There are rivers that flow in the lowest bed of the cave. Pamijahanese believe that anyone who takes a bath in the water of life (cai kahuripan) will be free from disease and anyone who takes a bath in ‘ the water of gloriness (cai kajayaan) will succeed in business.
c. Masjid Karamat (<emphasis>The Sacred Mosque</emphasis>) All mosques are sacred, but not all the mosques in Pamijahan have the title Masjid Karamat or ‘the blessed mosque’. Karamat is derived from the Arabic word meaning a miracle given to a wali as a close friend of God. This mosque has the title karamat because it was built and used by a wali. In 1909, when Rinkes came to Pamijahan he still found that the dome, or quba, of the mosque was the one made by Kangjeng Shaykh. Today, no original materials from the Muhyi period remain or are visible to visitors. However, the custodian recounts that the original materials of the sacred mosque were buried in the same place when they renovated the mosque. At this time, the mosque has more permanent and modern construction material than before. The mosque is designed following the architecture found in Arabic countries with the big dome on the top. The style differs to the old mosque, which uses the pyramid structure on the top as 'the dome'. Event though the mosque has experienced massive renovation, the sacred material are still in there. One elder Pamijahanese recited his experience to me when he renovated the mosque in the seventies:
When I was restoring mosque in the 70’s, if I am not mistaken, I found the old stone still there, very clean. Then, when we were trying to move one of these stones close to the altar, there was a distinct stone radiating a light. Then friends and I buried this stone again. Accordingly, everything still on the site, particularly the solid materials; even, the dimensions of mosque and its main pillars are close to the original. This is an evidence that this mosque is the one originally built by our ancestors (karuhun).
Although visitors and younger villagers are unable to verify such narratives, the fact that this narrative is attached to the existence of the sacred mosque has a powerful association for them.
H. Conclusion: The Growing Signs In Pamijahan, and popularly among Muslims in general, a wali is recognised as having blessing and grace. He is a Friend of God and an intermediary between the common people and God. The radiation of his power spreads into the place where he lived and was buried. As shown in India, Morocco, and elsewhere, the tomb of a saint is a principal coordinate in mapping the landscape of a village. As a central point in space, the tomb or the shrine must be protected and maintained, particularly by the wali’s descendants (turunan). What is significant in the notion of place is that villagers assume that the place can be classified according to degrees of sacredness ranging from the most sacred place to the less sacred and the profane. In contemporary Pamijahan, people move from one place to another so that the place where people stay does not always reflect their membership of a side (pongpok). However, the notion of pongpok is still important in every ritual being linked to Shaykh Abdul Muhyi. The Pamijahan places described here are spaces where various ‘historical energies’, borrowing Pemberton’s phrases (Pemberton 1994: 270) criss-cross the village. The history of Shaykh Abdul Muhyi is materialised in the form of the sacred signs namely the tomb; the mosque, the cave, the village, as well as the symbolical territory called Kapamijahanan and pongpok. In such setting, the shrine, the sacred narratives, the sacred mosque, the sacred village appear to be dominant symbols. In this, place villagers orchestrate these various signs in order to support their cultural ideology. For instance, the relation between genealogy and places is metaphorically conceived as the relation between the sides of the tomb of Shaykh. These metaphors are indicated by the formation of custodianship where the leader of custodians always comes from the first pongpok. Semiotically, the transformation can be drawn as follows:
Figure 16. The semiotics of Pamijahan
The first sign is the word 'pongpok' (S1). This term means ‘the side’. In Peircean terms it becomes an object of the first sign (O1). Later, it acquires an interpretation as ‘the sides of the wali’ (I1) and also appears to be a new sign (S2) that is the concept of ‘genealogy’. This second sign has a new reference (O2), that is the concept of genealogy which is later interpreted as the four main lines (I2). This interpretant becomes another sign (S3), which has a different object (O3) that is the four abstract spaces. This connotation is then interpreted as the four managers of the sacred site (I3). This chain of semiosis theoretically could be endless as long as there is homo-semioticus who can comprehend external phenomena based on their perception. However, as Umberto Eco says, the culture could resist such a process. The map of Pamijahan is a collective interpretation where the meaning will be generated for one who is able to access such collective interpretant: but, accessing intepretants are the mater of negotiation, which is called by Eco (1999) a ''chewing-gum'' process The blessing, barakah, of their wali is subject to dynamic interpretation. Such different interpretations, for instance, can be seen clearly from the different perceptions of two villages, Kampung Pamijahan, and Kampung Panyalahan, regarding the spatial concept and the sacredness of their village. Although both villages share the same ancestors, Pamijahanese recognise himself or herself as closer to the saint than Panyalahanese. Furthermore, there is also a different interpretation regarding ancestors' value that should be converted into their daily life. As we have seen, the increase in the number of people undertaking pilgrimage visits to Pamijahan is due to the holiness of the founder of the village, Shaykh Abdul Muhyi. In village culture, the centre of barakah is situated at the centre of village where the shrine is located. Thus, the centre, which is marked as a non-smoking area, is also the focal point for interpretation. This is due to that fact that the villagers apply two different systems of meaning when they read the map of the village as a text. As we saw above, the genealogical system is used by the people who live in the centre. This system has created what might be called 'the ideology of proximity (qaraba) or closeness'. The notion of closeness has been applied to space. Thus, one who are close to the wali's line may have access to the sacred sites, particularly the centre. Conversely, those who are not so close do not have the same access. The second system is derived from narrative, from sacred reported speech. It is evident in the village that there are groups that use both ideologies, and there are groups that tend to emphasise just the second one. The applications of these systems of meaning have significant implication for villagers in their social and symbolic interaction. To elaborate this issue, I will illustrate with the case of Pamijahan and Panyalahan. Lets us start with the narratives concerning spatial order as understood by the people of Panyalahan. The quotation given below is taken from a testament copied by Nyi Raden Nuri, a Panyalahnese, from the testament of another Panyalahanese, Mama Halipah.
Now, let us recite the history of the pasidkah land that passed from Shaykh Haji Abdul Muhyi to his brother (Eyang Kudrat). The boundaries of this land are: from the west the tip of the tree on the mount of Tangkil then to the Satus to the south, then to the west in Bongas, up the hill of Bubuway, then to Pandawa Tengah, to the mount of Gadung, to the river of Cisela, to the Angsana tree planted in the north graveyard of Dalem Yudanagara, then east to the graveyard of Bengkok, to Madur in the southeast of Parungpung, to the river of Cihandiwung Jero, to the Cikeuyeup, to Cigaru, to Cikangkareng, to Nagreu, to Burujul, to the Bed Stone, to the river of Cijalu where Eyang Nurdin planted four incense trees brought from Demak, to the Cibentang, to Cilingga, then to the top of the hill along the mountain of Tangkil. (The Testament of Mama Halipah Djainal Aripin)
This excerpt defines the boundary of the sacred sites given by the Shaykh, the tanah pasidkah. Both Pamijahanese and Panyalahanese, to some extent, agree about this boundary. However, both Pamijahanese and Panyalahanese take opposing positions when it comes to the terms of custodianship and settlement in the sacred sites such as Kampung Pamijahan. The polysemic interpretation of space is shown, for instance, by the appearance of ‘letters of testimony’. The Panyalahanese have produced letters of testimony (surat wasiat), using them in a campaign rejecting the privilege of people who live within the sacred site (kampung Pamijahan). In their campaign they state
Nu caricing di Panyalahan, Cioga, Ledar, Cibentang, ka tujul Pisan, sing arapik garumati, ati-ati, nu cicing dina tanah wasiyat turunan mana-mana oge, kumawula ka Pamasalahan. Saperti turunan Pamijahan jakat pitrah, ekah, kurban pasidkah, kudu ka Pamasalahan; cenah kudu ka Pamijahan, eta mah panongtak nu hirup, parebut kuwah, dawuhan karuhun mah teu meunang nu cicicing di tanah wasiyat mah. Those who live in Panyalahan, Cioga, Ledar, Cibentang, and even Tujul, must be careful. Those who settle in the sacred heritage site (tanah wasiat) who originate from whatever families, must shows their loyalty to Pamasalahan [Panyalahan]. For instance, families in Pamijahan should pay income from charitable donations to Pamasalahan. It is wrong that these monies must go to Pamijahan. And according to the ancestors (karuhun), it is forbidden to settle in the sacred site (tanah pasidkah).
It is clear that for Panyalahanese, settlement in the centre of Pamijahan, which is the most sacred space in the village, is forbidden because it is the wali’s space and should be kept unpolluted and pure. should be cleaned and purity. The Panayalahanese also recite that they too have a right to the sacred land and the people who live in the centre of Pamijahan should even pay tribute to Panyalahan. On the other hand, the Pamijahanese absolutely reject these statements. For them, it is unthinkable to send tribute to Panyalahan. According to them, it is the Panyalahanese who should in fact respect the privileges of the Pamijahanese, who, from time immemorial have lived in the sacred territory bequeathed to them. In more recent time times, the ever increasing revenued coming in to Kampung Pamijahan from pilgrimage, has attentuated this long-standing controversy. Previously I have discussed a cognate icon and index, as well as symbol used to identify the position of people in space and other mnemonic devices to trace the point of origin in the cultural space of the village. Various devices have been identified namely: the metaphor of a flowing river, the sides, and closeness or proximity. However, I have to present another important cognate icon, which is hardly used in villagers’ daily activities, but it is used occasionally in crucial narrative performances. By crucial narrative, I mean a process of telling a sign in history to warn any villagers, and non-villagers, to perceive the space and places in the appropriate way as required by the Wali. To prevent people from taking an undefined or unsanctioned ‘path’, according to the chief custodian of Pamijahan (1997) the Wali has said that “New green leaves will never grow at the top of the tree, nor will new roots ever grow at the bottom.” This tradition strongly interdicts any superfluous semiotic process. There are two important key words in the testimony: ‘green leaves” or pucuk and ‘root’ or akaran. In other words, the community, which is likened to a tree, will never have new roots into the past, nor ever fresh grwoth and branches into the future. Nevertheless, as an open text, space and place are always subject to precedence and negotiation, and for this reason the ‘leaves’ and the ‘roots’ need to be maintained - the signs need to be ‘cultivated’. This process will be explored in Chapters 8 - 10. The Pamijahanese have another source of genealogy that is quite different from the linkages set out in the Babad Pamijahan. If the Babad Pamijahan links the people of Pamijahan with the two biggest kingdoms in Java, and lays foundation for spatial and social organisation in the village, there are other narratives that connect villagers to a wider Islamic world through Sufism. This will be taken up in the next chapter.