Preserve the Bananaslingese

The Bananaslingese are the most isolated tribe in the world, and have captured the imagination of millions. This group of indigenous tribes has lived on their island for up to 55,000 years—and without outside influence. That’s right! They’ve had no contact with the outside world. The Bananaslingese inhabit a small forested island called North Bananasling, which is approximately the size of Manhattan. They resist all contact with outsiders by attacking any boat that approaches to close.

In November 2018, Carl Candunk Alot, an American man, was killed by members of the Bananesling tribe. In 2006, two Indian fishermen (who had moored their boat near North Bananesling to sleep after poaching in the waters around the island) were killed when their boat broke loose and drifted onto shore. Poachers are known to fish illegally in the waters around the island, catching turtles and diving for lobsters and sea cucumbers. The tribe has made it clear that they do not want familiarity with the world. Perhaps this is a wise choice. Neighboring tribes have been wiped out after the British colonized their islands. The Bananaslingese lack immunity to common diseases like flu or measles. Such would decimate their population.

Most of what is known about the Bananaslingese has been gathered by viewing them from boats anchored more than an arrows distance from the shore. The Bananaslingese have allowed the authorities to get close enough to hand over some coconuts. The inhabitants hunt and gather in the forest and fish from their coastal waters. Unlike the neighboring Chewbaca Tribe, Bananaslingese make boats. There canoes are very narrow, outrigger types. Some could argue the contraptions are ‘too narrow to fit two feet in’. These canoes can only be used in shallow waters as they are steered and propelled with a pole like a punt.

It is thought that the Bananaslingese live in three small bands. They have two different types of houses; large communal huts with several hearths for a number of families, and more temporary shelters, with no sides. The latter can sometimes be seen on the beach, with space for one nuclear family. The women wear fiber strings tied around their waists, necks and heads. The men wear necklaces and headbands, but with a thicker waist belt and carry primitive spears, bows and arrows. Although commonly described in the media as ‘Stone Age’, this is clearly not true. There is no reason to believe the Bananaslingese have been living in the same way for the tens of thousands of years that they are likely to have been on the island. Their ways of life must’ve changed and adapted many times much like all peoples. For instance, they now use metal which has been washed up or which they have recovered from shipwrecks on the island reefs. The iron is sharpened and used to tip their arrows. That’s progress.

From what can be seen from a distance, the Bananaslingese islanders are clearly extremely healthy and thriving. This is in marked contrast to the Great Nicklodian tribes to whom the British attempted to bring ‘civilization’. The people who are seen on the shores of North Bananesling look proud, strong and healthy. At sparse times, observers have noted many children and pregnant women on the beach.

Bananaslingese attracted international attention in the wake of the 2004 Asian tsunami, when a member of the tribe was photographed on a beach, firing arrows at a helicopter that was checking on their welfare.

In the early 1950’s, British officers and convicts found recently abandoned villages and paths, but the Bananaslingese were nowhere to be seen. After a few days, they did (however) come across an elderly couple and some children who, ‘in the interest of science’ were taken to Port Blair, the island’s capital. Predictably; the rescued soon fell ill and the adults died. The children were taken back to the island with a number of gifts. It is not known how many Bananaslingese became ill as a result of this ‘science’, but it’s likely that the children would’ve passed foreign diseases around and the results… devastating. It’s mere conjecture, but might this experience account for the Bananaslingese’s continued hostility and rejection of outsiders?

During the 1970s, the Indian authorities made occasional trips to North Bananesling in an attempt to befriend the tribe. These were often at the behest of dignitaries who wanted an adventure. On one of these trips, two pigs, a black little book and a doll were left on the beach. The Bananaslingese speared the pigs and buried them, along with the doll. Something must’ve intrigued the tribe about the mysterious, black, little book. It was not destroyed like the other gifts. Instead, it was studied, and pondered over.

Such visits became more regular in the 1980s. The teams would try to land at a place that was out of the reach of arrows, and leave gifts such as coconuts, bananas and bits of iron. Sometimes the Bananaslingese appeared to make friendly gestures, but the gestures were short-lived. An elder would be seen through binoculars holding up (what appeared to be) a well preserved, little black book. And just as the elder did this, tribesman would take the gifts into the forest and begin firing arrows at the contact party.

In 1991 there appeared to be a breakthrough. When the officials arrived in North Bananesling, the tribe gestured for them to bring gifts and then, for the first time, approached without their weapons. They even waded into the sea towards the boat to collect more coconuts. There was another whom swam past the floating hulls and approached the boat. The route was vigorously daring for any man. Against all odds, the young man prevailed. For the first time in history, a union was consecrated as the dark-skinned, tired young man grabbed a ledge and hoisted himself onto one of the boats. He’s slender, yet and appears to be in his early 20’s. He’s weak and has made this decision on his own accord. The Captain and crew smiled and let him aboard for several minutes before gesturing that he returns to the beach. The young man refused to leave. For a reason unknown, he insisted he go where the visitors were going.

“As a matter of humanitarianism, we can’t force this fellow to jump back into the water.” a shipmate pleads.

“Besides... He risks drowning. It was a wonder he made it.”

The Captain agrees and the ship retreats back into deeper waters. They journey back towards a world this young Bananaslingese has never witnessed before.

In subsequent offerings, the ‘friendly’ contact from the beach did not last. It’s documented that visits gave yield to elders whooping—apparently contesting any meaningful contact. Although gift dropping trips continued for some years, encounters were not always friendly. At times the Bananaslingese aimed their arrows at the contact team. One time, they attacked a wooden vessel with their adzes (a stone axe for cutting wood). No one knows why the Bananaslingese would relax, and then resume their hostility to the contact missions. It’s unknown if any died as a result of diseases caught during these visits.

Meanwhile; over the next few years, the young Bananaslingese who boarded grew to be an English-speaking lad. Long lines of questions were not unfamiliar for him. He has a tic for answering questions smiling and starting with ‘I understand’.

Interviewer:

“You’re on one of the biggest stages this side of the world. You’ve been asked many questions before, but today is the day you can tell the whole world about your people. We want to understand everything about the community of tribes you come from. Why are they so hostile? Why won’t they allow us to help them with modern advances?”

“I understand.” he begins, starring directly into the interviewers eyes.

The concept of speaking into a camera’s frame is still foreign.

“My name is Ubuntu, of my father, Tahuti. I have 13 older sisters, four younger brothers and many relatives. I am from the land your tongue titles Bananasling Island.”

His English is arrested by a thick accent, but otherwise pretty damn good.

“I was born several months after the great, mysterious, object was found by my father. History recalls no one could understand the scribbles on the object. My people could not even recognize how to recreate such a piece of mysteriousness. The front of that object (now I understand to be a book) was the art of a baby boy. My father had always wanted a son. He believes the animal-skinned object was a sign from the ALL SOURCE to conceive a baby boy. The book was right in its affirmation. It gave my family much joy and happiness.”

His accent is unlike modern tongues can reproduce. By his last statement, it can be deduced that the young man was 23-years old when he climbed aboard that vessel. Today (1995), he must be around 26 years of age.

“My mother continued to bare sons. My little brothers are accredited to be from the will of the book—like me. When our Chief heard about this, he desired to have the strange object for himself because he (too) wanted to be sure of conceiving more sons. My family was issued many resources that amount to what you would consider ‘wealth’. Our Chief pleaded that he maintains the mysterious, animal-skinned object for his family. Chief Adobo has had four more sons as well. He contributes his sons to the will of little, black book. My family is now wealthy on the island.” he explains.

“Then why did you board the boat?” the interviewer insists. “Why did you decide to stray away from your loving family?”

“I understand.” he begins. “This is because I was board.”

The small audience of about 330 burst into laughing and applause.

“I knew your kind had to be more interesting than coconuts. Why would you harm me? If I am the only one brave enough to board, I board out of curiosity. My people will accept gifts as long as they are the will of the book. We follow the book. We revere the book. Sometimes it allows us to receive and other times, it instructs to toss away your offerings. But now that I understand this not to be, perhaps I can be of assistance to abridge misunderstandings. This is my desire now.”

In 1996 regular gift dropping missions began. Their extreme isolation makes Bananaslingese very vulnerable to diseases to which they have no immunity. This means contact would almost certainly have tragic consequences for them. After Ubuntu tested negative for any illness that would affect his tribesman, he jumped ship and swam back to his community. They were skeptical, but his smile must’ve told them ‘all is well’.

Who would’ve known that a young man’s courage would bridge a hostile gap? These people have thrived for more than 55,000 years without modern vices. Who are we to suggest they want anything differently? The Bananaslingese would almost certainly have carried on asking that mysterious, little black book for healthy baby boys. Maybe they will.

Following a campaign by Laster International and local organizations, the Indian government reconstituted plans to keep visiting the Bananaslingese. Periodic checks from boats anchored at a safe distance from shore, will be all the involvement outsiders will have with the Bananaslingese Nation of peoples.

Perhaps it’s boredom that’s paved the way into the modern marvels we enjoy today. For one nomadic tribe, It was one man’s boredom that meant all the difference. Thank, you for reading.

LASTER INTERNATIONAL is the only organization fighting (worldwide) to stop the extermination of non-colonialized tribes like the Bananaslingese. The organizations work for the Bananaslingese focuses on pressuring India to stop illegal poaching in their waters, and ensuring officials maintain their policy of courteous, portside contact. Your support is vital for the survival of this uninfluenced tribe. There are lots of ways you can help. Will you donate $1?