Cremations! (no one sends the dead off like the Balinese)

One of 47 "caskets"

The night I arrived there was No One to greet me at Ina Inn.   Very, very odd. I found out the next morning that Kadek's (daughter) fiance, Wayan's (who lives at the compound also) uncle had died just as I had arrived.  He was rather young and had died quite unexpectedly I believe of TB. It was a shock (especially since TB vaccines are free).  I saw Wayan the next morning and he was visibly shaken and sad. He is a very gentle and artistic young man. The Balinese do not show these kinds of emotions; it is said to be "unevolved" as to not be "in control". (one does not cry at funerals {prior to cremation} so that the soul may depart easily. Remember it's all about reincarnation; perhaps the uncle may come back as Kadek + Wayan's  child)
I hugged him and told him I was so sorry and that I'd like to come to the cremation.  Also, the wedding dress that had been so proudly displayed in the bale (open air platform) would not be worn... quite yet.  Kadek+ Wayan's wedding was to be postponed yet again (#4).
Out of respect and then a new date needed to be chosen that was "fortuitous".  It's all done with the Balinese calendar- auspicious days for everything and completely inscrutable. New date: Sept5 and I'll be there.  Kadek is 3 months pregnant and would not be present at the cremation. (this is fairly typical; couples live together for a couple of years.... and then when the woman becomes pregnant , then they marry).  Therefore,  I've known Wayan as a member of the family since I first came to Bali.

As usual, I never can get a straight story as to the time for this cremation. I was ready by 11am (for 12) then Ibu tells me 2 more hours, and then she tell me  let's go to Lungsiakan........ NOW.
So I get on back of Putu's motorcycle (but I should be sitting side-saddle, as only one leg is covered by my sarong and the other Big White thigh is out there like a beacon)  EEEks, not only am I going on a motorcycle (luckily it's the dry season) but I look like a Hussy in Balinese  dress. I do try and comport myself so that my "keluarga" will not be ashamed of me. Of course there are different rules for bule.

Ibu entering the temple....i am right behind her

this is Wayan's Uncle I Ketut Kantor

Well we arrive and I find out there will be 47 bodies...... it's very very expensive for cremation, therefore bodies are often interred for a while (there were bodies waiting up to 5 years for this cremation).  There are thousands of people in the procession and thousands of people watching the procession. Who was the only bule (foreigner) In the procession?  That's a rhetorical question.
Since I am 5'6" and I tower over 99% of the Balinese women and a lot of the men......I well, stood out.  I walked next to Ibu.  There were family groups from each person being cremated (about 50-75 per family) ....so that's at least 2500 in the procession then there were at least another 10,000 watching. Whew! I felt a little strange, but I got to do all the rituals instead of being a voyeur.

ritual clothing

 As I enter the temple grounds the priest is ringing the bells and intoning. I love this part.  I find the family we are to join and see who exactly it is that died.  We then get down and kneel to pray. And then we wait and wait. And wait. 

 Here is where the organized chaos appears.  There are all kinds of things that are placed in the 
fiery bier from the former's life.  Each member carries all kinds of symbolic material things. The five elements are represented, earth, fire, water, metal + wind. Old money, beautiful batiks, boxes of 
secret contents and of course.....many many sacrificed animals.
Ducks. Pigs. Birds.  I always end up standing next to some  animal
frozen in rictus.    It's hard not to have those duck bills not come by and graze your shoulder ........   ah.... what's a vegan with an acute 
sense of smell to do.  Grimace internally...... and get out of the way.  All those sweet animals ( I know ,  I know, they will be reincarnated).

holding precious familial things to be burned with the body

leaving temple ground

any + all surfaces are decorated,   O! the stories and where you can go (Hindu/Buddhist text)

So, the organized chaos goes something like this: how to line up the procession...with all the members..... in order...... carrying their relatives offerings............and in a way that will not forgo any of the ritual pathways, chants,songs........ get out your flow charts.....
It takes a good 90 minutes to do this.......(we must step over a line of offerings to make sure that the spirit knows NOW is the time to cross over..... one guy in an awful hurry (he was carrying a rather large coffin on his head festooned with all kinds of stuff) tried to skip this process....... o! the gods were not Happy about this at all.
He was sent back for a "do over" and there were mumblings about the state of his relative.  
We finally leave the area, and are out on Jalan Sanginngnan            ( yeah, try and say it 3times fast) and we're off like a herd of turtles singing ........the gamelan playing.....and of course.... the biers swerving topsy turvy all over the place to confuse the body (so that the spirit does not try and re-enter: see former blog about Royal Cremation back in 2010).  The road is lined with people .... just watching....observing, taking photos, eating ice cream.... your usual Sunday fare.  We walk for an hour and then we descend descend down to the place where the 47 bodies will be consumed by fire.

recognize Siddhartha under the bodhi tree? (the intermingling of Buddhism + Hinduism)

Ina relaxing with the  relative (Ina does a lot of relaxing)

Ina cuts open the bier and many rituals occur.

After the women take their hair and "brush it along the body" to cleanse it all the offerings are laid with the body.
Then Ibu has another surprise; she wants to go to another cremation; where her Uncle will be cremated; only two bulls. Well at first I say, no, I am going to stay.... but then I think about 47 bodies being torched..... down in the ravine, and me, not a spectator ......but Right There and I say.......Yes, I'll go.
This time Agus takes me on the back of his motorcycle, back to Ubud. and it's  close to Jalan Bisma.....across the sawah.
I arrive to see the first bull about to be torched.

But this time I am a mere spectator.......... further away from the escaping spirit and the material body.








travelin' woman

24 hours in Ubud-

The classic greeting in Bahasa Balinese

The sweetness that is Bali is apparent as soon as you deplane. The smiles, the wafting frangipani and incense the really long lines at immigration. Oops, did I just mention that? (well the new airport was supposed to open in May, July,   let us just say that the       dignitaries arrive in September + October for APEC conferences (and the airport Will Be Closed to the rest of us Mere Mortals). And in case you were thinking that the Chinese were still hoarding their savings, I will tell you that on my plane I was amongst 5 westerners.  The Chinese have discovered Bali in a big way, as they Only travel in Large Groups. (or flocks as we are known to remark)
The first thing that I notice is that the temperature is gloriously warm but not the heavy torpid humidity that the rainy season encompasses.  And then there is the glorious wind which buffets the KITES; for it is known that in July + August the skies are filled with HUGE, really Humongous Kites.... flown by a cotillion of young boys.  I have Never seen such large kites..... but then again who could dream that  Ogoh Ogoh could be so large.
Jantuk and the whole family are waiting for me. The first thing I notice is that Jantuk's hair is Very Long. Well, that completely flustered me, and I just immediately blurt out, "Is Ayu pregnant?"
(Balinese men grow their hair for the duration of their wife's pregnancy)  He laughs, and blushes and says "No".  

I think he fantasizes about getting on a surfboard and living           another kind of life.

First we navigate the traffic (yes, it's only 25 miles to Ubud, but it can easily take 1 1/2 hours) as the New Highway (going to Kuta/Sanur , all those ruined  beach paradises that I avoid) is open but not open to vehicles. Welcome to Bali, the land of the Patient.
Then we head to Bumi Sehat to deliver 2 cases of donated prenatal vitamins that I brought from the states. (you should have seen my Father's confused face as he opened the package that arrived at his home in CA)
 It was prenatal yoga night at the Clinic, which meant a lot of men hanging out  smoking on the grounds, and a lot of pregnant women trying to be comfortable in their bodies.
The reason I even tell you this is because it took another hour just to drive up Monkey Forest Road because of all the tourists and traffic- it's  HIGH  season  in Bali. (this would normally be a very short 5-10 minute drive)

The very first Ubud Jazz Festival held at the famed ARMA

Going out to hear music, dance, ceremonies is always such a whole sense(s)  experience, because everything is outside... in the glorious elements of Bali.   
Dedik and I had previously made plans to attend the first Jazz festival.  I wanted to get this great ethnomusicologist out of his "bubble", as he has submersed himself back into his own culture after spending 9 years in the states.  He was thrilled to hear what Indonesians, and other Asians interpreted as Jazz (so was I).   

the great traditional architecture is majestic and sacred (all carved by hand)

We loved hearing all the different strokes of Jazz; the standards, and the forays into original compositions.  It was  very good, not great but as this will be an annual event, I am sure the choices will evolve. 

the drummer, superb

  The next morning was the upacara for Saraswati- the Goddess of Learning: books, arts, and education.  Since it was Putu's first day in his new school (junior high) and he was to be attending the school on my street (Jalan Bisma) I was excited to attend.  I had been seeing these kids everyday, greeting them, and talking with them over the years. 

junior high

the teachers (not all serious)

the students playing the gamelan

I enter and immediately am listening to the student orchestra.
The students are fascinated that I have arrived for this. (no other parents or adults, except teachers and priests are there).  

everyone  brings their flowers + incense to pray with

the offerings to Saraswati in the school temple (no separation of church + state here)

I did mention the Balinese are ADDICTED to texting (like the rest of the world)

This cutie waited patiently for me to get the photo  RIGHT (help Diandra!)

It's been a long time since our classrooms looked like this

I plopped down next to the kids  and had a fine time joking and talking .......and then they gave me some flowers + incense and we all prayed together. A beautiful morning.  Then off to walk the rice paddies..... to Sari Organic

The drink has tamarind + ginger + lemon  sooooo Yummy + refreshing and the salad has microplaned beets (raw) ,peppers, onions ,carrots with cashews + seeds and some freshly made pita (all their breads have cumin seed, extra delicious and surprising) and homemade soft feta.  The dressing is all herbs + a little tahini blended.  I always catch up with the Jakarta Post.....and do the crossword puzzle.

Sari Organic and their Bodag (overflowing basket) is one of my favorite places on earth.  The owners, Oded + Nila will be involved with Sawah Bali.  It's their mission too.
Unfortunately, the walk to Sari Organic is no longer the pastoral walk it was..... too much development of villas + hotels.
But, I did see a farmer going about his work, something his ancestors have been doing for thousands of years.   

And look what was waiting for me....... after the heat and breezes of Bali...........  

Finally the pool at Ina Inn has been re-done.  EVERYONE got hurt on the broken ladder + tiles.   Look at that view I have as I  glide through the tranquility...... and sustenance that is Bali.



travelin' woman