i know i always take you on a roller coaster ride with these stories...so hold on because here is another long one!
about 3 weeks ago it was decided that there would be the 3rd annual 3 day music/arts festival of the village. the womens' gamelon orchestra was invited to participate. i was happy! a chance to play for the villagers...and not just practice. we bought new outfits for the occasion; red brocade see through kabiya over a black strapless corset, with a darkish sarong and a bright yellow sash! our hair was to be pulled back with a "sangul" bun (hair piece) hanging to the right side of the back of our heads. with gold leaf flowers hanging parallel to it and a little fan of gold leaves sticking out of the top of the bun. gold earrings that match the brooch, and make-up.
after my attempt to wear the hair piece the week before at the temple performance and it slowly falling off, i decided i needed new tactics for the festival, to be sure it wouldn't fall of this time. i bought 30 bobby pins, strong hair spray, and decided to do a trial run the day before...i had a long black wig with bangs that i brought with me, and thought that maybe that would be a better solution. i wanted my landlord to help me out with it since she was once a beautician, so i stopped by her place. the gardener was sitting there chatting with her. i told her that i am going to put the wig on and we can try again. a few minutes later i came out looking around 16, with black bangs, and long hair pulled into a kind of pony tail. when the gardener realized it was me she laughed hysterically. we all laughed...and then i asked my landlord to put the little black bun net on my hair and that i would walk around like this for 4 hours, with the 30 bobby pins holding me together, and if it is still all in one place by the end of that...then i will wear it the following day for the festival. i wanted to get the opinion of my friend that lives in the village too, so i decided to take a 20 minute walk over to her place. i figured that at most some of the locals will give me a double take, or a thumbs up seeing me suddenly with thick black hair and bangs...but who cares...
and yes, nudge nudge, wink wink, thumbs up, they all had a little smile or comment to make as i passed them...i just tried to keep looking straight ahead, feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. but when i had almost reached her place, a motorbike stopped in front of me as i was crossing the road...the yoga teacher! the only balinese man that i know that is my age, and is a widow, and speaks english, and is handsome, and very interesting...oh no! i realize that god really has a sense of humor! me with my bangs, thick black straight hair, suddenly face to face with this guy for small talk...not up on stage where no one can even tell its me underneath the wig! i play it cool, as if everything is totally normal, ask about his son, try to see if he is trying to figure out what this is on top of my head...but no telltale signs...and then we part. when i walk into my friends house, her 14 year old and 6 year old daughters open their mouth in shock and start laughing too! my friend is more polite and says that it looks nice, and that she will help me with it.
she sits me down and starts putting more pins here and there and that now i look like her balinese mother in law. then has me look in the mirror. UGH! i look like the farmers wife in the famous amish painting of them standing next to each other! horrendous. i tell her i can't look like this. we toy with more options: dye my hair black, turn the wig into a hairpiece...she plays around with the wig and in the end we decide that i will just wear it as the bun and put hairspray and it will fine. i come again the following day. so now i walk again, along the same path, but with no wig on...confusing for the villagers who continue to laugh. the following day i go to my friends house and she does a wonderful job! "you look like the presidents' wife!" we take photos, and i am off to the festival, with 4 hours to wait until we perform, since i wanted to see the other performers before us also.
it is about a 15 minute walk through narrow paths among the shops and houses, and then along the main road until i get to the fair grounds. since everyone lives outdoors...they are all outdoors, and there isn't a person, that doesn't have a comment to make. builders stop shoveling in order to look at me as i walk by. children giggle and call to their friends, women lift their thumbs and call out "chantik!" (beautiful) people on motorbikes that i have never seen before beep me and smile and men...have a twinkle in their eyes suddenly! all because of my black bun and red see through kabiya? but as i walk i realize that the bun is too low and i cannot turn my neck around without it bumping into my shoulder...ugh...now what?! i walk to the grounds, keeping my face perfectly straight, as if i have a stiff neck, very unsociable, and sit down...and wait...and wait..and even doze off...i am the only guest at the festival grounds...no one has come even though it is supposed to begin at four o'clock and it is already four thirty. finally the mayor, being the only one there since he is organizing it all, comes over to tell me that better i come back around maybe six? i say fine, not moving my neck...and walk home now, past more nudges, thumbs up, beeps from motorbikes, and lots of smiles...
i realize it is all for the best as now i can go to my landlord beautician and ask her to lift up the bun a bit so i can move my neck and see people! she does, and i feel wonderful and free and can now enjoy my new found beauty! when i begin my walk back to the grounds at six thirtyish, i am happy it will be dusk and i don't have to pass everyone again! as i am walking along the narrow path leading to the main road, a motorbike comes from behind me. all he sees is the lovely back of the bun, kabiya, sash and sarong on a svelt body thanks to the strapless black corset! he stops his bike next to me and offers me a ride! he is a young teenager. i hope he is not disappointed to see the face of a 60 year old once he has stopped. i am grateful for his offer...the first time ever being offered a ride by someone that doesn't know me! i always wondered why no one stops for me, and here, when i look like this, he does! and off we go to the festival grounds.
as i arrive, feeling beautiful and able to move my neck freely, i can see even more twinkling in mens eyes...this is getting to be scarey! until now i thought the balinese men were apathetic to women. they just don't pay attention. but now i realize that it is not that they don't pay attention. it is that only when a woman is with a black bun, light skin, pointed nose, and a see through kabiya, does it turn them on! but the surprising thing is that it also turns the women on. all 30 of my gamelon friends made a point of walking over to me to tell me how beautiful i look, thumbs up, and which beauty shop did i go to! i try and figure out what it could be...and as usual i try and compare it to cultural norms that i know from israel and america. the closest i could get was; if a chinaman comes and gets dressed up like a cowboy, with jeans, cowboy boots, and a checkered shirt and cowboy hat, or a japanese woman puts a white head covering on her head and is wearing white long shabbat skirt and blouse, or a japanese man is wearing a tallit and kipah and white shirt and black pants and shoes, then, yes! they would suddenly "fit in" and look so special and beautiful, our eyes would twinkle when we see them too!
well, it was definitely a hit for the ego, and fun. the mayor even had me dancing on stage with one of the balinese dancers as a comedy routine that they do called joged. the dancer goes into the audience and lassos someone with her sash and that person has to then join her onstage for an improvisational dance together. being a ham, and a good imitator, i joined in happily, oblivious to the thousands of people watching. actually i only realized there were so many once i was seated...until then i had seen most of the crowd hanging out at the gambling games that attracted most everybody rather than the performances. from little kids to adults, you put any coin or bill on a picture or a number, and then the dice is thrown and you either win or lose...this and food was the main attraction...but once the joged got started everybody decided to enjoy the fun and entertainment.
the actual festival began at 9 in the morning. i had come around 9:3o knowing that balinese time is "rubber time" and nothing begins on time. when i had shown up in my regular short sleeve blouse and sarong to watch the morning performances i was surprised to find a seat next to my gamelon friend, that was all dressed up in her outfit! i thought that was strange, since we were performing at night in our red outfit, and not the green one she was wearing. and then i suddenly realized that all of the women from the gamelon were seated in the audience in uniform. oh no! my worst case scenario! the lack of any kind of comprehensible communication had finally taken its toll. total misunderstanding on my part. i had no idea i was supposed to be playing the gamelon in the morning too! again, pantomime, a few indonesian words, trying to figure out how something so important was misunderstood?! she told me to just sit down, not important. and made a gesture like they are being served something, and not playing the gamelon. ah....they must be getting some kind of award, or recognition...ah...and what about me? aren't i part of this orchestra? poor me...they don't really include me, here it is such an important moment, and no made sure i understood. i sat there for almost an hour listening to speeches by the mayor, the regional officer, etc. and trying to "let go" of this mistake! god brought it to me, there must be a good reason why. if i was supposed to be dressed and with them, i would be, so i guess i am not...but why...i had a good look at my ego...saw that what is really important for me is not the recognition or even the feeling of being part of the orchestra, but rather the actual playing of the gamelon. so...by the end of the hour, and after another attempt to suggest to one of the women that i run home and change clothes and can be back before they go on stage (again broken indonesian and sign language) and she just said, "this evening, not now"...and i let it go. just then they all got up. i thought that maybe they will even include me in the ceremony, wearing my regular clothes! but, they all walked off and no one invited me to join them as they walked toward the stage. but what happened in the next few minutes left me laughing again at gods' sense of humor...yes, they walked to the stage, which is situated next to a table that had trays set on it. and each of the women took an empty tray and went to all of the diplomats that were seated in the front rows, and began collecting all the empty plastic water bottles, and little boxes of treats that had been distributed! so this was what they were "serving"...they were dressed up just to be beautiful women that would waitress at the opening ceremony. and that's why i didn't need to rush home and change clothes.
and now...back to the evenings performance. we went on stage and played lovely. it was very powerful. since all of the members showed up, i didn't have my own gamelon, so one of the women shared with me and we each played 2 out of the 4 songs...that was very kind of her. while i was sitting there listening as she played her songs, i had time to just be. and i sat there on stage, saw the thousands of villagers enjoying the performance, and realized that here i am, on stage, in bali, performing with the womens orchestra....is this for real? yes! it all felt so natural, and together with that, like a dream....what is reality?
when we finished we were all offered little packets of rice and chicken as gratitude for the performance and as a meal to eat now. i was constantly being complimented by the women on my looks, and making sure i had eaten and they grabbed my hand so we would walk back and forth from the stage to the audience together and sit together afterwards to watch the rest of the performances...i realize it is kind of like little kids that like to do things together...or maybe they too felt "safer" not being the object of everyones' attention if they walk alone. in any case..."the tourist" continued to attract giggles, and smiles, and comments until i finally got to my little path home. looked in the mirror, saw yes, i was beautiful, in the eyes of the balinese, and then proceeded to take out the 30 bobby pins and wash out the hairspray that managed to keep everything in place for all those hours! the wig went back in the closet, for next time...and i return to my own curly short, mousey grey/brown hair, and am happy to be alive, and beautiful inside and outside. i realized that this was the first time in my life that i received so much attention from men. even my girlfriends husband came and waited at the entrance to the fair grounds in order to see me and tell me i look beautiful. a man had never done that before to me. it felt nice. but also good to just be plain me now.
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