Eleanor showing her tattoo hand poke stick kit, Sompoton, and collection of beads.
IN a world increasingly shaped by modernity, 41-year-old Eleanor Daudi Goroh stands out as a passionate advocate for safeguarding cultural heritage and rekindling ancestral traditions.
Her journey into the world of heritage crafts is a tale with surprises that began in 2010 when she visited Miri, Sarawak, to support a local community opposing the construction of a dam.
But fate had a different plan. A whispered rumour of the inaugural bead conference in town caught her attention, igniting a deep curiosity that soon evolved into a lifelong passion.
Through this encounter, the Dusun lass from Sabah’s Kota Belud district connected with diverse communities and their unique crafts, immersing herself in the narratives woven within each creation.
“Initially, my focus was solely on incorporating beads into contemporary fashion. As time passed, I delved into the underlying principles and what set legacy art apart from regular art.
“The value of heritage lies not just in its aesthetic appeal and potential monetary value but the education it brings with it.
Eleanor’s collection of beads and book about tribal tattoos. — Photos by A. Geraldine
“This gives the art form a high significance, especially when the craft is still practised and used today,” she said. “If we’re able to keep it alive, that means we’re doing something right.”
Motivated by this newfound enthusiasm, Eleanor embarked on a quest to uncover her Dusun Lotud ethnic heritage on her mother’s side.
Conversations with her mother revealed a family legacy of intricate beaded necklaces.
“My grandmother keeps her money under a pillow but puts her ‘kalung’ (beaded necklaces) in the bank vault. That illustrates the preciousness of beads to my grandmother.
“These beads are more than adornments; they symbolise dowries and ancestral lineage, passed down through generations,” Eleanor said.
These necklaces were heirlooms exclusively worn by family members preparing for marriage, she said, noting that some had succumbed to wear due to their age and delicacy.
Eleanor showing her Sompoton music playing skills.
“With my grandmother no longer here, my older aunt is in charge of keeping them safe.
“One day, she saw me stringing and requested my help to repair a broken string. I was overjoyed because I had finally obtained access to valuable objects that only the elders have.
“So, I studied the composition of the ‘kalung’, photographed them, and sought similar beads in the market. My goal is to replicate the ‘kalung’ so that all can wear it,” Eleanor said.
Her passion didn’t stop at beads. Fascinated by her Dusun Tindal heritage from her father’s side, Eleanor focused on the Sompoton traditional musical instrument, a mouth organ made from a gourd with bamboo pipes.
In the aftermath of the 2015 Sabah earthquake, a non-governmental organisation network entrusted Eleanor to devise an initiative to empower her quake-affected community.
“I was pondering which craft required the most resources, and the Sompoton of the Dusun Tindal immediately came to mind.
“Constructing it involves five distinct resources, like we need a bee farm to produce the ‘madu kelulut’ for waxing.
“While I lack musical training and have no ear for tones, if I had to choose a music skill to master, it would be playing the Sompoton,” she remarked.
Eleanor performing the hand-tapping tattoo technique.
She acquired the fundamentals of the mouth organ from relatives and shared her newfound interest on social media.
Before long, she connected with a community of mouth organ enthusiasts and learned that similar instruments exist in ethnic groups from other countries.
“That’s what makes it intriguing. Just like our beads, the Sompoton carries a global narrative. In some cultures, it’s a forgotten craft.
“This unique instrument intertwines with our environment and the endemic trees crucial to our crafts.
“We possess specific trees that continue to thrive. Sustainably utilising these resources is essential for preserving our heritage craft,” Eleanor emphasised.
The art of tattooingEleanor’s insatiable curiosity and engagement with the broader artist community nurtured a growing fascination with tattoo heritage.
The hand poke stick kit used by Eleanor to draw tattoos (top and bottom pics).
In 2016, Eleanor and a group of like-minded friends, including tattoo artists, opened Tamparuli Living Art Centre – a space for creative expression.
They shared their artworks and began discussing Sabah’s tattoo identity as motif tattoos seen on skins often reflecting patterns from the Sarawak indigenous tribe.
In 2017, Eleanor and her friends raised funds to attend the Traditional Tattoo and World Culture Festival in Palma, Spain.
Her participation in the festival unveiled a world where stories are told through ink on skin, showcasing the cultural value of tattooing as participants showcased both tattoo heritage and traditional garments.
Subsequently, Eleanor acquired the skill of hand-tapping tattoos from a tattooist friend in Kota Kinabalu, making her the sole female tattooist in Malaysia utilising traditional hand-tap methods.
Equipped with newfound skills and insights, she embarked on a global pilgrimage to give and receive tattoos, forging connections with diverse cultures and narratives.
Eleanor’s travels and experiences affirmed her purpose: to bridge the gaps between cultures and ignite a passion for heritage preservation.
“I journeyed to Putussibau, Kalimantan, to engage with the Kayan Mandalam people and learn about their tattoos,” she noted, and brought her beads and musical instruments along for knowledge sharing.
“They recognised my ‘bungkau’ (free reed) and mentioned a grandmother named Tipung who used to play something similar, a craft no longer practised.
“Their hospitality extended to assigning visitors a Kayan name; they nicknamed me Tipung.
“The second time I visited the village, I came with a tattoo. The Kayan Mandalam people nicknamed me Puyang after their grandmother, who had a tattoo.
“Among the Kayan Mandalam community, I became known as Tipung Puyang – the girl who brought free reeds and tattoos to their kampung. It reminded them of their grandmothers,” Eleanor reminisced.
She also travelled to other parts of Indonesia, including Sumatra, Jogjakarta and Bali, and Thailand, where she remained during the challenges of Covid-19.
Reviving Murut tattoo heritageEleanor’s return home in June 2023 marked a pivotal juncture.
Armed with her experiences and insights, she was committed to contributing to her community.
Reuniting with like-minded friends, they initiated a project to empower the Murut community in interior Sapulut, Nabawan, by resurrecting their traditional tattoo art.
According to Eleanor, the Murut refer to tattoos as “popok” in their language.
She noted that while the elders recalled hand-poking tattoos from the past, the practice had waned, being taken over by contemporary methods involving machines or self-administered needle tattoos, often featuring modern designs or personal names.
“When they saw our work, the Murut people in the village were excited to get tapped,” she said.
Eleanor acknowledged the existence of at least two elders with traditionally documented tattoo patterns.
“While documentation on Murut tattoos is limited, we had enough references from what had been documented.
“We possess other indigenous motif patterns exclusive to Sabah that we can transfer from books to skin, thus reviving traditional cultural motifs and tattoo art alike.”
Eleanor’s return prompted her to delve into conversations about heritage and the rainforest.
Her experiences in other communities helped her grasp her own identity and passion.
Eleanor remarked, “Appreciating one’s own heritage comes only after understanding and learning from others.”
