Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Yesterday we were on our way to gamelan class in the
morning when a man approached us in ceremonial gear, wrapped in his sarong of
fine fabric , secured with a colorful sash and on his head the intricately
wrapped fabric tied with a fancy knot. The messenger knew that Gaylon and
Zinnia were interested in taking us to ceremonies. He informed them that there
was a cremation that would take place soon in a village to the north. We
stopped in our tracks, turned around, retracing out steps to our bungalows to
dress ourselves in our carefully chosen sarongs and sashes, with headgear for
the men, that we had bargained for at the sarong marketplace. A van was waiting for us, seeming to appear
magically out of nowhere. We got in and headed north, not wanting to miss this
amazing event that is such an integral part of traditional Balinese culture.
We rode through beautiful country with terraced fields
of green that made their way down vast ravines. We passed one little village
after another, each with several temples, including the family temples that are
found in each of the family compounds. We drove upcountry in the direction of
the big volcano, Agung, where the air was cooler.
When we arrived in the area there were hundreds of
people gathered, dressed in their finest traditional clothing. We were told the whole village turns out for
these ceremonies. This particular cremation ceremony was for a 90 year old
priest who had died two days ago. We talked with his grandson who spoke a bit
of English. He is a doctor in Denpasar, the capital city of Bali. He explained
that normally the ceremonies are so expensive that the dead bodies are buried
until there are enough bodies that the expense per family goes down. Sometimes
there are up to 50 bodies that are dug up at one time for a giant cremation
ceremony. But the priest had a high status along with wealth so there was no
need to wait for other bodies with whom to share the event.
We sat among the people in the spacious outdoor
courtyard of the priest’s family compound. All the villagers treated us with
kindness and acceptance, along with big smiles. Marina, the beautiful
brown-skinned student from Cochiti Pueblo with long, thick black hair and
almond shaped eyes was continually stared at, smiled at, photographed with cell
phones, and talked about among the villagers, both men and women. She was asked
if she was Balinese and was told she was “cantik” which means beautiful. One
man who didn’t speak any English asked her for her cell phone number. Marina
appeared amused by it all.
The family compound was filled with beautifully
crafted offerings for the afterlife along with arrangements of marigolds in the
Hindu style and piles and piles of food, all enveloped in sweet incense. It
looked festive and colorful, nothing somber or morose.
After waiting hours while the preparations were
reaching completion, the body was wrapped in layers and layers of fabric and
woven straw mats and then placed in what looked like a little pagoda which was
carried on the shoulders of dozens of men. The little structure containing the
body was whirled around in many directions to confuse the spirits of the priest
so they couldn’t find their way back and would move on to the afterlife.
The procession filled the road as far as the eye could
see and was contained by police that directed traffic. We walked about a
quarter mile to a field that had been cleared for the occasion. The body was
loaded into the belly of what looked like a paper mache dragon which would
carry the priest to the afterlife. His clothes and other personal items , along
with trays and trays of food and other offerings were added into the belly of
the dragon and then set on fire. The funeral pyre was a sigh to behold with the
flames shooting into the sky.
The event lasted all day. What impressed me the most about
witnessing this pageant is how all the cycles of life are celebrated in
traditional Balinese life and that death is not just for mourning, but a time
when the entire community comes together to honor the dead person. At these
important transitions, each member of the community stops what they were doing
and participates fully in the ceremonies. Their lives are full of ceremonies.
It’s like a nonstop celebration of life. The spiritual and the mundane are
woven together so that one can hardly distinguish the difference.
Here the sense of time is non linear which can be a
bit disorienting at first and takes a while to relax into it. The different sense
of what is important to traditional Balinese people is palpable and evident
every day. It’s truly like entering into a different reality.
Pictures to follow when internet problems improve.
Bye for now.
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