Dark and rainy. Probably early afternoon. We emerge into a small clearing and a small sapau: Siata Nusa. Budi is smiling again. I don't care if it's hell. I just want out of these clothes.

"Aloita," I weakly greet Musang, his wife Theresa and their young daughter Anbei.

"This Medicine Man Musang," Budi says as I offer my clammy hand to shake.

To my dismay Musang says "Hello."

"You speak English."

"A little" he says, holding his thumb and forefinger close together

Budi explains that an English anthropology student named Jane lived at Siata Nusa for several months last year. Musang is intelligent and learned some English.

He is short, like all Mentawai, and would comfortably fit under my shoulder. His black hair pony-tail is held in place by a red band of cloth. He is barefoot, and loinclothed, with two safety pins dangling from the copper chain around his neck. His smile reveals chiseled teeth, but I see only one tattoo, a blue star on his lower right thigh. A plastic baggie containing tobacco and dried banana leaves tucked into his loincloth completes his attire.

"Tak Titi?"(no tattoo) I ask.

"Titi big ow." He replies.

Succinct and to the point. I bite my lip to avoid laughing at his unintentionally funny response. It seems to me that teeth-chiseling would be a bigger "ow," but I wouldn't care to undergo either treatment, so I'll take his word for it.

Theresa, like women of all cultures, seems to have a higher tolerance for pain than her man. Tattooed lines burst off her shoulders like shooting stars. She wears a sarong, a black bra, a red hibiscus flower and a beautiful, chiseled smile.

Musang disappears for a few moments, reemerging wearing a battery-operated, stainless steel Seiko watch. It's stopped at 3:10, but telling time isn't the point. It's a status symbol, worn on special occasions. He also wears a silver ring with a ram's head. Both were gifts from trekkers who passed through Siata Nusa.

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