the cremation

I left my room at 6:30 a.m. dressed in a dark kabiya and a light colored sarong….didn't know that the sarong was supposed to be dark colored too. Just as I was turning the corner to reach nyomans compound to meet her, her father walked out of his little house with her lovely 7 month old baby in a baby sling on his chest, since he was going to be babysitter while nyoman and I went to her uncles cremation. It was so sweet seeing this grandpa with the baby. He accompanied me to nyomans house at which point she and I left for the deceased's' house. It was a 10 minute walk, and when we arrived at 7, the 6 day old corpse was just about to be bathed.

Men and women surrounded the bamboo stretcher in the garden, where the 54 year old man was laid out on a coconut leaf woven mat, naked other than a small piece of white cloth covering his genitals. The garden was large, with many trees shading all of the hundred some participants, including the gamelon orchestra. About 15 men and women began to "wash" his body with a bar of soap and water. He had died from his third stroke a week before, and had been kept until this auspicious day, with blocks of ice that were changed every 5 hours. During the week any family and friends that could, had been busy preparing the huge amount of detailed things needed for the cremation. And now was the actual day of it.

Children participated in the most natural way, non pulsed by the stiff body, that was being washed. My archangel ketut was there, taking photos of everyone and everything. I tried not to impose myself but was also very curious to see everything they were doing and to understand the symbolism of it all. The men had been very busy placing pieces of glass on his eyelids, a narrow green leaf on each eyebrow, a flower bud in each nostril, and a little piece of bamboo used like a funnel in his mouth along with a flower. Ketut explained some of it to me, but was kind enough to ask some friends that were happy to share their knowledge in perfect English:

"The Balinese need a lot of money in order to make all the complicated ceremonies they must do in their lifetime. So we do not have money to spend on vacations abroad. (ahem…). In Hinduism there are many ceremonies. The first is when the baby is born. The placenta is buried in the ground underneath the rain gutter so it will receive lots of water always and take care of the person during his lifetime. When his umbilical cord falls off, it is placed in an amulet that is worn by the baby and also guards the child. At the age of 6 months the baby is given their name. since until then they were still only spirit beings. Now they are human, and have their heads shaved and begin their life. When they reach maturity they must have their teeth filing ceremony in order to avoid acting out the 6 sins; jealousy, stupidity, gluttony, anger, inappropriate sexuality, and...(? maybe stealing or lying or killing, but he didn't say…) then there is the marriage ceremony. And lastly there is the cremation. We believe that the person will be reincarnated again. So it is worth his while to be kind and happy and a good person in this life time, because otherwise he can be born bad; with a distorted body for example. The pieces of glass that are placed on his eyelids are in order for him to clearly be able to see heaven. His nostrils are with flowers since they were the source of his breath all of his life. And the little piece of bamboo in his mouth is for him to "drink" the holy water during the blessings before his soul departs on his "journey". "

The cleansing and wrapping in a white cloth and lifting and moving took about an hour, at which point he was eventually placed in a red and gold material covered wooden open "casket" and placed in a corner covered in white material, and a big white material "lid". The priest was busy quietly instructing people where to place the multitude of "bought" offerings, some of which went on top of his body, others next to, and others on altars. The deceased was childless, but left enough money (some $3000) in order to pay for the cost of this expensive (for Balinese) cremation ceremony.

For the next couple of hours the women sat together near the widow, laughing, chatting quietly, busying themselves with bringing water and sweets to everyone to eat, paying the different people that were giving service, running to do errands, like buying a small mirror, comb and white face cream which would be placed in one of the offerings, for the deceased's' next incarnation, or cutting long strips of white cloth that we all tied around our forehead the moment his body had been prepared. This was a sign for all those participating in the cremation. White for them is the color of death, which in fact is the color of good also.

The gamelon band was playing on and off over the next 10 hours of the ceremony. The music was similar but different from what they usually play in the temple ceremonies. The notes were quite delicate and high pitched, but the music wasn't "going " anywhere….no transformation, just a soothing backdrop to the entire day, during all the stages of the ceremony which included preparing the body, arranging the offerings, the high high priest coming and performing the ceremony in the garden, then as we made a procession from the house down the main road a 1/2 hour walk to the cemetery, then once at the cemetery they continued as the pre cremation ceremony was performed, during the burning of the body, the post cremation ceremony, and the procession from the cemetery down to the sea shore, which was another 10 minute walk, and then the ceremony at the shore ending with sending some of the remains off in a boat out to sea. The last two parts were a bit more dramatic with excited cymbals beating quickly. Then they were finished playing their music, were paid for their services, and went home.

I could go on and on for hours trying to describe all the details of this cremation ceremony. For those that want to read on, I will try and stick to the outstanding things for me. First of all, other than being a topic of conversation for one and all, quietly, but constantly, it was a great honor for me that they accepted me and allowed me to participate as an equal with them all, even though I just happened to show up at the house with nyoman in the morning and did not know any of them. A few of the people spoke to me, either in English or Balinese, but most of the time I was just a quiet observer, or participant. There were many tasks that needed to be filled during the ceremony, one of which was carrying the many huge offerings on the women's heads during the procession, which nyoman asked me to do and I accepted. The men were carrying the cremation pyre. Later at the cemetery there are also processions done by a select few, blessing the different offerings scattered around the cemetery. I was keeping a close look at what was happening the whole time so when I saw that they needed some women, and none were getting up to go over there, I decided to. As I reached the priest to receive whatever he was going to hand me amongst the options (a live duck, live chick, young coconut with water, incense, offerings…) it was just my luck and I was given the huge bundle of folded leaves and the silver water holder in order to sprinkle holy water on everything. As I began, one of the organizers quickly rushed over to me and said "bali" and showed me that only with the right hand do we touch holy things and do actions, and there I was with the bundle in my left, sensing that this might not be right, but then again, maybe holding the holy water in my left hand is even worse! The same lack of understanding had happened to me a few days earlier when I was watching auntie (the "silent smile") come to place the offerings in the evening on the altar of the main bale of the resort. It was so heaped with former offerings that she was already on tip toe each time to place it on top, and I was wondering when she would ask someone to clean it out. She walked over to the waste basket and we had eye contact that with her silent smile and my silent smile I knew she was asking me to empty out the altar for her. I took the waste basket and again and again removed all of the dried up offerings, being as attentive and with intention as I could. I may have even given myself an imaginary pat on my back, but the next day when I was quizzing nyoman about offerings, she raised her voice slightly and said "and always we do everything only with our right hand, even emptying out old offerings since our left hand is considered dirty." I got the message that she was so politely trying to give me, so that I would learn from my mistake. I asked her if what I had done the day before by emptying it out with my left hand was a horrible mistake, and she said that they understand that westerners do not know to only use their right hand for holy things, or in fact everything! So…when I had had that moment of doubt at the cemetery and he said "bali" I immediately switched hands and continued, "getting" the message quickly!

The general atmosphere the entire day was that of a nice gathering of friends, family, smiling, laughing, quietly sharing, sitting in little groups children playing, posing for photos with the widow with everybody smiling and giggling, eating a meal in the garden and another one in the cemetary; men with men, women with women, everyone just sitting on the ground (or graves) anywhere, with the "regular" ceremony meal of white rice and pig and coconut eaten with your right hand that was dipped in a bowl of water near the pot of rice, before serving yourself on the round piece of paper that lined a little straw plate. Little packets wrapped in triangular shaped paper containers had been prepared for everyone and were brought in 2 big baskets to the cemetery where we ate while the body slowly burned to ashes.

As the procession went along the main road traffic stopped for at least 20 minutes as we had the right of way. Villagers came out of their shops or houses and stood and watched us go by, naturally surprised and amused to see me holding the big offering on my head along with the other women. Tourists that were in cars waiting in the traffic were busy photographing the procession….it was interesting being on the other side of the camera! The Balinese just smile and laugh about it all. When we reached the intersection where we had to turn right off the main road to go down to the cemetery we went around in a circle some 3 times, shouting, in order to confuse the evil spirits that might be trying to follow the deceased and grab him before the cremation. Since I was in the front of the procession, I didn't have a chance to see what it looked like until we reached the intersection and made the circle, at which point I saw that the rest of the men and women that weren't holding the pyre or offerings, were holding onto a long white piece of material above their heads, symbolizing a "red carpet" for the pyre that followed it to be brought to the cemetery.

At the cemetery the casualness of it all continued. Sitting on graves, stepping on them, and eating on them was fine. When we arrived there there were even a few vendors inside with drinks and sweets and food for sale! The ice cream vespa with its musical tune and all soon followed into the cemetery so people could buy some ice cream while we waited there for hours. Even the empty plastic water cup lady that walks along the beach looking for anything she can sell for recycling or driftwood, was there, with her little boys, who were busy collecting empty cigarette boxes. She had put a sarong on top of her one dirty outfit she owns. We smiled at each other, since I know her from the beachfront. I was happy she was clever enough to come to the cemetery where hundreds of empty water cups were being tossed to the ground by everyone without a second thought…so at least she could contribute!

The high high priest that arrived to the widows house a few hours late, since he had been busy with another ceremony before this one, was accompanied and assisted by his wife. He went through many rituals of cleansing and blessing each object that would be used in the ceremony as he sat cross legged on a pillow on the raised platform. He placed about 10 huge stone rings on his hands, wore special crystals on long necklaces placed on each shoulder and around each ear and forearms and a tall red and gold plated crown with a big crystal on top. The constant ringing of the bell in his left hand was at the same tone as the gamelons that were playing. I decided that it is an exercise in attention for him, to be able to be ringing in his left hand a constant beat while his right hand is performing all kinds of purifications by sprinkling water or flicking flowers. A pink lotus flower was used in the ritual blessings. He is in his own world when he is performing all of these rituals and the rest of the people were all just chatting or sitting or moving about. An interesting part for me was seeing a big silver bowl being held by the deceaseds' brother. It had a little palm leaf stick figure with a face and all drawn on it and a very involved ceremony went on for quite a while with it. Other than many symbolic wrapped leaves and flowers and rice the priest also placed some of the petals of the lotus inside it. It was later carried in a white baby sling in the procession, and I realized that this was the symbolic incarnated soul already being blessed before it is reborn soon. One of the other touching symbols was a little boys brand new white button down shirt hanging on a hanger from a tall bamboo pole that hung near the temporary coffin and later carried at the head of the procession, again, symbolizing the new life that would soon be realized once he was cremated.

When we arrived at the cemetery the bamboo stretcher holding the corpse was brought over to the cremation site. It was very simple; 2 sheets of metal 2 meters long which were placed parallel to each other on the ground. They had holes and metal rods going through them making a kind of raised bed for the corpse and offerings to be placed on. More and more blessings and holy water and flowers being poured on him, as they uncovered his face, blessing him just like everyone else that would be blessed. The traditional blessing of drinking the holy water three times, was done on the body also thus the need for the little bamboo funnel. Everyone was just kind of standing around the cemetery, talking, playing, eating, quiet, mainly happy, but a few had a sad expression, no tears and the widow was peaceful and talking and sitting near the gamelon band. There was a timelessness to it all. No one wore a watch, or seemed to be in a hurry to go somewhere .

Two strong burners were placed at either end of the metal sheets, so that one was opposite the head and the other at the feet. A few Gerry cans of kerosene were being piped into the burners via a big old can with a long leaky hose high up on the big tree next to the makeshift cremation area. Again, many more ceremonial procedures, including some 5 little cups of holy water, but there were only 4….so a quick phone call on the cell phone in the middle of everything to figure out where the missing cup is. Anything having to do with ceremonial procedures is done with utmost exactitude, and anything that has to do with life, like the empty water cups or plastic bags from the carry out lunch they brought for everyone is just thrown at ones feet, with total disregard for the repercussions of one's actions but total respect for any religious procedures.

One young man was chosen to light the match at either end as the kerosene sprayed away on the pieces of coconut shell and wood that were placed at either end in order to get the fire going. Kids, men and women all stood around watching, or chatting, as the fire began. Some threw in bills of money, I don't know if it was for good luck, or so that he would have money on his "journey" to his next life. The intense fire began and we all sat around for a few hours, until it was clear that the body was burnt. There were 2 men tending the fire, with a long prong that they poked around inside to check the stage of disintegration. As the corpse burned, the burners were pushed inside more and more until it was clear that only ashes were left. Another big fire was going at the same time not too far from the cremation, with all of the coffin material, wooden frame, mats, bamboo stretcher, material lid, and later a car arrived with the tens of huge ceremonial offerings that had been used at the house already and were also all tossed in and burnt thus cleaning out the widows house from it all.

Most of this time I just sat near the gamelons and listened to them. Nyoman had already returned to home to her baby who still nurses since some 6 hours had passed. I felt quite comfortable with myself there, alone, and sometimes sitting next to someone that would surprise me and speak some English. Once the fire ended the metal sides were removed and what was left was a piece of tin 2 meters long with a bunch of ashes and some pottery shards from the little clay water cups that had been placed on top of him in the offerings. By now only some 40 people were left and some gathered around the ashes as water was sprinkled to cool the ashes. 3 pairs of bamboo tongs appeared and everyone was invited to pick out the little white pieces from the black ashes, which would be little pieces of bone. It reminded me of how in Judaism everyone that wants to participate can take the shovel and shovel some dirt onto the corpse in the grave. So here children and adults were all encouraged to pick out a few pieces and place them in a big clay pot. After about 15 small pieces had been placed in the bowl and rinsed and cooled, 3 sticks of sugar cane were given to several people to grind the bones into a powder, while the other continued to pick out more bones, including me, after a nice man asked if I would like to, also. There was so much going on, it was hard to decide where to look, but I decided to keep my eyes on the priests and saw that the smashed bones were being made into a kind of paste which was later being spread onto lots of little offerings and being wrapped up and placed inside them. After another 15 or more pieces of bone had been picked out from the ashes and placed in the clay pot, it had another clay pot placed on it as a cover, and then a bamboo rice strainer as a cover or hat, and then wrapped up in a large piece of white material. This would then be what is thrown in the sea finalizing the end of the ceremony. The rest of the ashes were just left there on the ground in the cemetery, which suddenly explained to me all the ashes we had been stepping in all afternoon as we walked among the randomly placed graves.

After more ceremonial procedures and blessings we made the last procession down the road to the sea. It was a quiet road. This time I was not carrying in the procession but just walking along with them. At one point I felt a strong "presence" to my right, and when I turned my head to see who it was, I saw the young man that was carrying the wrapped clay pots with the bones shards on his left shoulder walking next to me, and I realized that this "presence" was coming from the pot of bones! Another ceremony on the rocky shore followed with us all seated on the ground looking out to the sea. More praying and little banana leaves with some flower petals were handed to each of us. Upon careful observation I realized that the white paste that was smeared on some of the leaves was actually the ground up bones of the corpse and we were all being given one as part of the prayer ceremony. I was very touched, and saw that the women placed it in their hair when they finished praying. The last part was the farewell. The wrapped up clay pots with some bones was placed in a fishing boat along with 3 men who accompanied it. As they left the shore, with the boat being shoved by those that were still around, everyone excitedly called out and happily waved "goodbye" to the deceased wishing him a good journey "home". While the boat went out to sea some 100 meters and placed the pot in the waters, the participants all walked into the sea and wet their face, hands and feet. I am not sure if this was a kind of cleansing, or the opposite; a way to unite with the holy waters that had just received the deceased on his journey back to god for his next reincarnation.

As you can tell from this very long entry, I am full of impressions from this day. But the bottom line for me was looking out at the sea, and realizing that 9 hours had passed since we started the day together, and it felt like 1 minute. And the realization that life is very short, and that each moment of life that I am being given, can be utilized for the purpose fpr which I was created: "to be a vessel for gods will". And that moment when they opened up the two sheets of metal which had held his body a few hours earlier, and all that was left now were some ashes, was a very powerful moment ….the transience of life.