Sumba Soul

  There are beaches that crash, and there are beaches that hold you. Mandorak does both. Guarded by rocky arms on both sides, this small cove in Southwest Sumba is a secret waiting in plain sight. White sand — not wide, but enough. Waves — not wild, but strong enough to remind you of something deeper. Two cliffs rise on either side like ancient protectors. Locals say fishermen once stood atop them to ask the sea for mercy. Sometimes for fish. Sometimes for peace. I sat there once, feet buried in warm sand, watching the ocean stitch itself back together after every wave. It made me feel like time was softer here. Not slower — just more forgiving.

There’s a hill in East Sumba that doesn’t try to impress you.  It just stands there - soft, endless, patient. Wairinding Hill, East Sumba . When I first arrived (June 2014), the sun was gentle, and the grass was dry like whispers. The hills curled and rolled like waves frozen in time, waiting to be remembered. People often come for the photos — the drone shots, the golden hours. But if you stay long enough, you’ll realize the hills are alive. They breathe with the wind. They move with stories. A child once told me the grass grows taller when someone truly listens. I believe him. Wairinding is not a tourist spot. It’s a witness. To forgotten battles, to herders’ songs, to lovers saying goodbye in silence. If you come with loud shoes and a checklist, you’ll miss it. But if you come barefoot in your heart, you’ll leave with something softer in your chest. In Sumba, not all beauty shouts. Some of it just waits to be seen.

In Sumba, the stones speak louder than words. They do not shout. They whisper - with weight, with silence, with presence. Megalithic tombs rise from the earth not as ruins, but as anchors of life. Here, the dead dwell among the living. Not behind walls. But in the heart of the village - between looms and laughter, roosters and rituals. The first time I touched one, I expected coldness. But it felt familiar. Like an elder’s palm. Worn, wise, waiting. In Sumba, a stone is not just a marker. It’s a memory, carried by many hands. Sometimes for years - until the timing, the belief, the buffalo, and the blessings all align. Only then can the stone rest. Only then can the spirit rise. There’s a pride in these monuments - not of ego, but of loyalty. Each carved symbol, each grain of lichen, holds a name, a legacy, a promise. I’ve seen a whole village follow one stone. Barefoot. Singing. Not to bury grief, But to raise love. The West might build skyscrapers to say “we were here.” Sumba lays dow...

Sumba isn’t just land—it’s a living tapestry woven from stone, spirit, and story. To walk here is to step into an ancient rhythm still beating today. 1. Marapu: The Guiding Spirits  At the heart of Sumba’s identity is Marapu, an ancestral and animist belief system. Marapu connects humans, spirits, nature, and the cosmos, weaving balance into every part of life. Legends tell of Ina Mawolo (Mother Moon) and Ama Marawi (Father Sun), believed to have descended to earth via a buffalo-horn ladder—planting the roots of humanity in sacred soil  . Even today, many Sumbanese identify as Christian or Muslim, yet Marapu rituals—offerings, dances, sacred shrines—remain central to village life  . Marapu isn’t just religion—it’s the soul’s rhythm. 2. Homes as Cosmic Portals  The iconic Uma Marapu, with its soaring roof, is a cosmic diagram come to life. • Lower level shelters livestock • Middle level is for daily life • Rooftop attic bridges to the spirit world, wher...

    Welcome to Sumba Soul.  I wasn’t born to write about this island. I was born with  it ~ raised in its winds, shaped by its rhythms, and gently carved by its stories. This isn’t a travel guide. This is a space for memory, for ritual, for wonder.  For seeing Sumba not as a checklist, but as something to feel . Something to hold close. Here, I’ll share what doesn’t always make it into brochures, the silence between waves, the scent of smoked wood after a ritual, the children laughing in the rain, the paths not on Google Maps.  Whether you’re curious, planning a journey, or just feeling homesick for a place you’ve never been — welcome.  This is for you.  Let’s begin with the soul.  I am your Soul-mate