Ceremony. Ahhhhhhh……what to expect. Not sure when Taman invited me to the ceremony at the local temple, here in the village. I have known Taman for three years….we met at the Homestay here, the very first time I arrived in Bali. Taman and I are like two little kids. Every time I see Taman I give her the biggest hug I can muster up. She is my Balinese sister. Her smile is very big and very warm. She is a like a mother to many people here. She is 37, never married, and no kids. She takes such good care of her family, and is very much needed. Her english is very good, although we have a good chuckle every now about our language barriers. I think you can tell the life she leads, by looking at her face. The stress, long working hours and family responsibility has aged her faster than the natural cycle of time. You can tell a person’s life sometimes by simply looking at there face. A person’s face says a lot. The complexion, the color, and the eyes. The eyes say a lot.
Life is hard here. There is a pecking order. It is known and accepted. The Balinese accept there social status with grace. Last night Made asked me if I ever get sad. They see me as a very happy person. I told them that I am very happy….what good does it do me to be sad. Life is very short. But on the other side of that, he was looking for a way for us to relate….for me to seem more real, perhaps and as equals. I told him that I do get sad, and I do get lonely. That sometimes the stress can make me sad, very tired and depressed. I meditate when I have my dark times and I pray when I do not know the answer to a situation. I wanted him to understand that money does not ensure you never get sad, that you never feel the stress of life. Right now Made is going through a tough time. His wife fainted the other day, and no one seems to know why. It has never happened before, although she does struggle with health issues. I will have to say a prayer for her when I go to Besakih; the mother temple of Bali, one of the oldest and original temples on the island. If there is anyone you want me to say a prayer for, please let me know and I will when I get to the temple.
Back to ceremony with Taman. So, Taman (which means garden) arrived at 5:30pm, and we needed to be at the temple at 6pm. You have to bathe before going to ceremony. She brought with her a lace top, a sarong, a sash and a corset..or girdle. Yes, a girdle. We had a good laugh trying to squeeze me into her girdle. It was the first time in my life I have ever felt FAT! That word does not exist in my vocab. Bloated does, but never fat. The hidden secret of the Balinese women, to have that perfect coca cola bottle figure is a girdle or corset. Yes, people, they wear sophisticated lingerie under all that traditional garb. First you put on the sarong, then the girdle, then the lace top and then the sash to hide the girdle. I did mention that the top was lace right. I didn’t mention that my bra was black. You could see right through my top! I was so embarrassed. There was no time to color coordinate my bra. I was mortified that I had to go to ceremony in front of the entire village in my lacey green see through top with my black bra. I hid behind Taman every chance I got. Had I had just five more minutes of time, I could have thrown on a more subtle selection. Of course she assured me that she goes in her bra all the time, and that it was okay to see my bra….yeah, but she also mentioned that she wears a more natural option. So of course she wouldn’t feel like some scandelous tourist. There was no way in hell I was going to go to the front of the audience to take a picture of all the women dancing. No way!
The women were amazing. All ages, making two rows into the temple, dancing there way towards the front to make an offering or say a prayer. Even the little ones ages 11 had a corset on…the becoming of age. Even the 8 year old participated in this dance. The precision and movement of there hands suggested that this knowledge was implanted at birth. After then women are finished, then men dance. A different dance, men of all ages, young and old. Everyone is sitting on the dirt floor cramped together. Children, and seniors…watching and waiting. Even during ceremony at the temple, you can tell who has more money. The traditional attire is the same, long sleeve top with sarong and sash for the women….button down collared shirt with sarong and sash for the men. They also wear a hat. If you look closer at the sarong, it says a lot. You have batik, ikat and songkit (I think this is what it is called, could be mistaken). Silk, cotton, and polyester. The sarong with gold thread woven into the pattern is very expensive (songkit), so you know that this person may come from money. Silk alone is also very expensive. Just to give you an idea of the income levels here, many people only make $80/ month, and that is with a really good job. My friend Komang is a dive master and makes about $80/month. I would say that everyone else makes a lot less. Maybe only $2/ day. I think a songkit sarong costs about 350,000 Rupia, which is $35/ USD.
After the dancing there is prayer. We pray 5 or six times. I pray for everyone and everything. The feeling you have being surrounded by so much love is amazing. It’s very special. It’s a soft gentle love. Not strong and over powering. It’s very nurturing to be here in Bali. Bali has an even tighter grasp of my heart. After a while the language starts to feel very comforting, familiar and not so foreign. I think the reason why I love Bali so much, is the connection to family and to spirit. The two most important things in my life. The things that make me whole, without them, I do not know my place in the world and that is the same for the Balinese.
I wanted to hang onto this moment forever. I wanted to savor everything around me; the dirt floor, the old brick temple with the contrast of gold and saturated color of the people. The quiet night sky. Inside the temple the sound of scooters disappears. Everyone is here. There is nowhere else to be. At the end of the ceremony we are blessed with holy water and rice. You are sprinkled with water and then you must put rice on your throat and your forehead. Rice is sacred. In a single grain of rice you hold life and all this is holy. This was my first ceremony, and I recon…not my last.
Life is hard here. There is a pecking order. It is known and accepted. The Balinese accept there social status with grace. Last night Made asked me if I ever get sad. They see me as a very happy person. I told them that I am very happy….what good does it do me to be sad. Life is very short. But on the other side of that, he was looking for a way for us to relate….for me to seem more real, perhaps and as equals. I told him that I do get sad, and I do get lonely. That sometimes the stress can make me sad, very tired and depressed. I meditate when I have my dark times and I pray when I do not know the answer to a situation. I wanted him to understand that money does not ensure you never get sad, that you never feel the stress of life. Right now Made is going through a tough time. His wife fainted the other day, and no one seems to know why. It has never happened before, although she does struggle with health issues. I will have to say a prayer for her when I go to Besakih; the mother temple of Bali, one of the oldest and original temples on the island. If there is anyone you want me to say a prayer for, please let me know and I will when I get to the temple.
Back to ceremony with Taman. So, Taman (which means garden) arrived at 5:30pm, and we needed to be at the temple at 6pm. You have to bathe before going to ceremony. She brought with her a lace top, a sarong, a sash and a corset..or girdle. Yes, a girdle. We had a good laugh trying to squeeze me into her girdle. It was the first time in my life I have ever felt FAT! That word does not exist in my vocab. Bloated does, but never fat. The hidden secret of the Balinese women, to have that perfect coca cola bottle figure is a girdle or corset. Yes, people, they wear sophisticated lingerie under all that traditional garb. First you put on the sarong, then the girdle, then the lace top and then the sash to hide the girdle. I did mention that the top was lace right. I didn’t mention that my bra was black. You could see right through my top! I was so embarrassed. There was no time to color coordinate my bra. I was mortified that I had to go to ceremony in front of the entire village in my lacey green see through top with my black bra. I hid behind Taman every chance I got. Had I had just five more minutes of time, I could have thrown on a more subtle selection. Of course she assured me that she goes in her bra all the time, and that it was okay to see my bra….yeah, but she also mentioned that she wears a more natural option. So of course she wouldn’t feel like some scandelous tourist. There was no way in hell I was going to go to the front of the audience to take a picture of all the women dancing. No way!
The women were amazing. All ages, making two rows into the temple, dancing there way towards the front to make an offering or say a prayer. Even the little ones ages 11 had a corset on…the becoming of age. Even the 8 year old participated in this dance. The precision and movement of there hands suggested that this knowledge was implanted at birth. After then women are finished, then men dance. A different dance, men of all ages, young and old. Everyone is sitting on the dirt floor cramped together. Children, and seniors…watching and waiting. Even during ceremony at the temple, you can tell who has more money. The traditional attire is the same, long sleeve top with sarong and sash for the women….button down collared shirt with sarong and sash for the men. They also wear a hat. If you look closer at the sarong, it says a lot. You have batik, ikat and songkit (I think this is what it is called, could be mistaken). Silk, cotton, and polyester. The sarong with gold thread woven into the pattern is very expensive (songkit), so you know that this person may come from money. Silk alone is also very expensive. Just to give you an idea of the income levels here, many people only make $80/ month, and that is with a really good job. My friend Komang is a dive master and makes about $80/month. I would say that everyone else makes a lot less. Maybe only $2/ day. I think a songkit sarong costs about 350,000 Rupia, which is $35/ USD.
After the dancing there is prayer. We pray 5 or six times. I pray for everyone and everything. The feeling you have being surrounded by so much love is amazing. It’s very special. It’s a soft gentle love. Not strong and over powering. It’s very nurturing to be here in Bali. Bali has an even tighter grasp of my heart. After a while the language starts to feel very comforting, familiar and not so foreign. I think the reason why I love Bali so much, is the connection to family and to spirit. The two most important things in my life. The things that make me whole, without them, I do not know my place in the world and that is the same for the Balinese.
I wanted to hang onto this moment forever. I wanted to savor everything around me; the dirt floor, the old brick temple with the contrast of gold and saturated color of the people. The quiet night sky. Inside the temple the sound of scooters disappears. Everyone is here. There is nowhere else to be. At the end of the ceremony we are blessed with holy water and rice. You are sprinkled with water and then you must put rice on your throat and your forehead. Rice is sacred. In a single grain of rice you hold life and all this is holy. This was my first ceremony, and I recon…not my last.
Beautiful description of the Balinese ceremony.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you got to experience that!