PART II: a royal balinese funeral

Christmas day 2011 started with a scenic bemo ride from Sideman down to the cultural center of Ubud where Ashley and I would ultimately meet up with my PC friend Sarah. Despite a minor altercation with a dishonest bemo driver whilst attempting to commence our journey, we quickly became enchanted with the surrounding landscape and unconcerned about when we would reach the city. Even with our distracted minds, we couldn’t help but notice that we must be getting closer to our final destination as the Indonesian-Tourist ratio steadily inverted so that the local population was soon in the minority. After 2 years in a conservative village, I found myself trying not to gawk at the pale underdressed foreigners as if they were some kind of anomaly. I can now relate to my students’ initial reaction to having a stereotypical American enter the classroom for the first time; I predict some serious reverse culture shock once I’m back stateside. We settled into our gorgeous hotel room with a view (thanks to Sarah’s logic that one’s allowed to splurge during the holidays) and full-heartedly welcomed the realization that this was our life. Reliable internet access for Skyping, a lagoon-like swimming pool, and my first taste of delicious suckling pig- not the worst way to spend my final Christmas in Indonesia. Nothing else extraordinarily noteworthy happened; just mohitos at the Laughing Buddha and enjoying the company of good friends, old and new.

Sunset From Our Hotel Window

Gunung Agung From Afar

Christmas Mohitos

We only spent a few days in Ubud, but my first impression of the cultural hub of Bali was much more positive than that of its overdeveloped neighbor to the South, Kuta. I embraced the traditional art, food, music, and morning yoga of Ubud, while all together savoring my first bite of reasonably authentic Mexican food in over 20 months, ordering a delicious pitcher of sangria and perusing the handicraft shops clearly intended for tourists. Ashley and I also spent a couple of hours walking through the jungle oasis of the Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary, taking pictures of the adorable little primates and scoffing at the people trying to feed them ice cream then kicking at the poor macaques when they got too close. I’m not claiming to be an ape expert, but I’m pretty sure that’s not considered appropriate etiquette towards monkeys.

Family of Macaques

The following day we happened upon the funeral procession for a member of the Balinese royal family. The vibrantly adorned funeral tower, or bade, carrying the deceased was making its way from Ubud Palace toward the hallowed Hindu temple Pura Dalem Puri at the heart of the city. Leading the colossal multi-tiered bade was a massive manmade bull ornamented in gold which would later serve as the final cremation vessel. Both creations were being transported atop substantial bamboo frameworks carried on the shoulders of at least 100 men in black and white checkered sarongs and traditional Balinese turbans. As the convoy of family members, locally concerned citizens, and incongruous tourists in tank tops and short shorts (this writer was to some extent more appropriately dressed for an impromptu funeral) made its way to the public Palabon (royal cremation) site, a marching gamelan orchestra gonged along, changing tempos as the route altered. As the throng went uphill or around a corner, the gonging got louder and faster. I discovered afterwards that the increase in tempo and momentary bursts of running or sudden shifting from left to right- all while carrying the giant structures- was an attempt to confuse the evil Balinese demons which are also conveniently deceived by corners; hence the customary wall immediately past the entrance to many Balinese complexes.

Example of Immediate Wall After the Entrance

The Gamelan Gongs Following the Bade...Around a Corner

Once the mob of spectators reached the temple, a set of bamboo stairs was brought over to the newly stationary funerary tower. Porters transferred the corpse from the highest level of the bade to the hollow bull below. Again, the gamelan rhythm increased in intensity as the anticipation of moving the body augmented. Those bearing the recently departed (well, 2 weeks ago departed) under the cover of brightly colored parasols, laughed jovially as camera-wielding tourist snapped away (I’ll plead the Fifth as to whether or not I partook in similar imprudent actions). The body was placed in the bull sarcophagus, feet facing southward so as to walk in the direction of the dead, followed unceremoniously by the departed’s last effects in an unremarkable white plastic bag. Family members walked counterclockwise (the dead always to the left) around the tomb 3 times carrying offerings and a garlanded photo of the deceased as a sign of respect. Female relatives in sarongs and matching emerald green lace tops and silk sashes waited patiently nearby, impressively balancing ornate offerings of fruit, flowers and palm leaves on their heads as priests whispered holy mantra beseeching a safe journey of the soul. The bundled offerings would eventually be relinquished in a seemingly unmethodically manner at the base of the funeral pyre. According to Balinese Hindu belief, the final rites must be carried out quite meticulously otherwise the spirit of the dead could remain a ghost, unable to join his/her ancestors. Tradition also dictates that after the soul ascends into heaven (following cremation) it is eventually reincarnated in another being, usually a future family member, in a never ending life cycle.

Towering Bade on Bamboo Frame

Moving the Body from the Bade

Transferring the Body to the Bull

Carrying the Offerings to the Pyre

A light rain began to mist the funerary backdrop and soon hard drops pelted down. Those dogged enough to witness this unique experience in its entirety huddled under the nearby roof protecting the gong and gamelan ensemble from the natural elements. Family members lit incense and approached the raised bull facing regally towards the North. All at once the previously majestic bull went up in flames, smoke and ash spiraling from all conceivable directions. In order to ensure a speedy cremation, high-powered gasoline pumps were vigorously pushed towards the bull’s underside and the scent of benzene mixed with burnt hair quickly permeated the vicinity. Within minutes the bull’s stomach collapsed and a charred foot dropped out, exposing the skeletal remains. Another result of being immersed in a new culture for 2 years is the capability to observe a cultural event objectively; whereas this might have been a disturbing image prior to Peace Corps life, I was able to watch the scene without feelings of queasiness. That being said, I’m opting not to get into the gory details of the sounds, sights and smells of frying fat, charcoaled bones and roasting flesh. It’s enough to say that the flames bursting from all sides of the imperial bovine pyre were a sure sign of the soul’s inevitable liberation.

Lighting the Incense

Approaching the Bull

And the Liberation Begins

Despite the seemingly somber act of saying goodbye to a loved one, relatives and onlookers alike seemed quite good-humored during the event. After all, the cremation represented the successful execution of a most sacred responsibility: releasing the soul from its earthly body to continue its journey into heaven and beyond.

High-Powered Hoses

After the hours-long process fizzled to an end, the thing that stuck with me the most was the shifting blend of mysticism and modernity. Gasoline pipes instead of traditional wood to feed the fire. Shorter bade than in years past due to the abundance of electrical cables lining the streets. Traditional lace tops and Balinese sarongs next to t-shirts and sunglasses. Incense and cigarette smoke blending together as relatives say their final goodbyes. One can only speculate as to the effects our ever globalizing world will have on the future of Balinese cremation rituals as technology, ostentatious displays and the concept of “quicker is better” become increasingly ubiquitous around the world.

And on that note, so concludes my time in Bali. Next stop: Lombok and Gili Trawangan!