Hitched a ride on a motorbike to the big day. Hundreds of people are crowded in the tiny home compound of dad Jony, mum Made, 15year old daughter Putu and 9 year old son Resa-both kids are having their teeth filed today. There are decorations and a big tarp for shade, a gamelan orchestra playing, an ornate altar piled high with offerings including a roast pig (sorry Neeson), clothes, sarongs and plenty of food. There are a few priests dressed in white dancing about and about 8 kids from 8-17 looking gorgeous in their ceromonial clothes but just a bit nervous. There's a bed piled with cushions and it's there that it all happens. One at a time they climb up and are covered with sarongs. There are a couple of helpers with comforting hands, mum and dad are hovering and they open their mouth. In goes a chunk of something to keep their teeth apart, in goes the priest's fingers and in goes the file. Apparently it's uncomfortable rather than painful... Mum checks that it's ok, the kid checks it's ok - if not its down for more. Finally everyone is happy, there's a blessing and at last a roll of some sort of numbing leaf to bite on.
Food follows - same same but different. We as honored guests share a communal plate with close family and make surprisingly little mess eating with our fingers, using our right hand only of course (you can guess what the left hand is for in a culture that doesn't use toilet paper).
Later it's down to the beach for more ceremonies, up to the temple for more ceremonies then back to the house for more food same same. Dancing and yet more food completes the day.
There are other invited westerners and a few that just wandered past at the right time. It's a fascinating experience seeing other cultures at work. As our friend Jony pointed out we spend our money on holidays and they spend it on ceremonies despite having to go into debt.
No comments:
Post a Comment