It is an hour before dawn I make my way up the gentle slope to the outside of Blangsinga village cemetery on the island of Bali. There is no wind and a scimitar of a new moon hangs above.
I fall in step with maybe fifty or so men who wear an assortment of tools for digging. Hoes, shovels, pickaxes and long metal spikes are worn casually over the shoulders. Somehow we look like a medieval army ragtag fighting in a battle.
Upon arrival at the cemetery, the men split into small groups and assigned to their family tomb. In the darkness, I can hear the other already at their task of digging. As the new day dawns and the light casts its glow in the morning, I see, standing in rows, gaudy platforms and statues of life-size animal that weighs on me in rows under the trees. Elephants, bulls, two dragons black and white, and huge rear fish like giant sentinels, as if keeping an eye on the work of the morning.
today is to be a special day for the village and the hundreds, if not thousands, of family, distant relatives and a host of friends, many of whom have traveled great distances to be here, to come together to review the dead. One hundred and eleven bodies will be exhumed bones washed and carefully wrapped in white muslin and placed in their assigned sarcophagus, blessed by priests with holy water before being burned and sent into the afterlife.
A Balinese cremation at the Western eye, a dramatic event that can leave the viewer confused by its complexity, as in reality the cremation ceremony has nothing to do with a dead body . In Bali, the body is nothing more than an unclean temporary shell, having no meaning at all, except that the container of the soul and its roots in the earth.
At the time of death all thoughts are focused on the mind and its passage to heaven. Instead of mourning, the Balinese prefer to throw a big party to hasten the souls of unity with God.
The soul of someone who dies can not immediately leave the body. Initially, the Atman (the immortal soul) plane near the body, sometimes like a ghost that can disturb the family of the deceased. Only after five body elements (air, earth, fire, water, and space) were returned to the macrocosm on burning the soul can completely detach from the body.
The sun makes its way now above the tree line and the light shines on the myriad of colors that make up the hundred big and small sarcophagi scattered throughout the cemetery. There are shouts and laughter of the crowd growing quickly a procession of women arrive to transport objects in silver bowls on their heads. A big band of men and boys dressed in bright purple jacket adds to the din growing.
mass cremations are never simple.
There is a widespread belief that no expense should be spared for the final send-off of the soul and any skimping constitutes a lack of respect for the deceased. A cheap cremation is considered a pretty bad way to start his life after death. These ceremonies can and will cost millions of Rupiah, which can severely tax the resources of families and hundreds of people are involved in the head until the big day, which can take weeks or even months of preparation. Not only minds impressed by a large cremation, but the gains of the family prestige and status in the village with an expensive ceremony.
special event today is a "communal" cremation where the funds are in fact pooled so the cost is spread across all participants, thus reducing the burden on the poorest community.
With all the thousands of details in the head in the event, there appears to be no checklist, as in gasoline nobody is in charge, but everything works Balinese typical cooperative fashion .
diggers, who regularly exchange places, are deep in the tombs and finally buried bodies, wrapped in white shrouds are marked in the land. The family members present now jostling for position around the grave and a white ribbon tied to a stick with three branches of the tree dab dab is ceremoniously lowered into the open pit.
With a powerful "One, two, three!" Cry the rest of corpse is rather unceremoniously hoisted on the side of the grave. The scream told me is to wake the dead sleep!
Once there, it is delicately unpacked, exposing the bone, washed in holy water and carefully arranged before being wrapped in pure white muslin. The body is then supported by several men shoulder high three times around the tomb before being carried to the sarcophagus attributed and placed inside.
Once all the bodies were exhumed, it seems that it is time for lunch and a little rest. Enthusiastic salespeople have set up stalls selling all kinds of food and drink while the balloon sellers waving their colorful wares wander among the crowds, followed by excited children strips.
I take my rest and lunch at the family home of my host, Leo Sinatra, fills me on some of the most intricate details of the events of the day.
The orchestra is shaped tail!
Suitably children fed and rested, we make our way back to the cemetery following a procession of family members carrying offerings on their heads. , Mothers and women carry photographs or paintings of the deceased and the atmosphere is joyous with laughter and bickering that takes place along the line. Each family stands to deposit their gifts into the coffins of their family, attended by a priest sprinkles holy water from clay pots that are broken ceremoniously when the ritual.
This takes some time and a numb lull falls over the crowd that now is at least three miles. They sit around the remedial shadow on local gossip and chat with relatives who came from all over Indonesia to attend this grand ceremonies.
Then, without warning, young men running through the crowd carrying torches and minutes of the tranquil scene is quieter than the entire cemetery suddenly fire. This is high drama at its best.
The enormous sarcophagi start smoking and then, as the fire taken hold, the flames dance around the complex structures that consume them in yellow fire busts crackle and explode in showers of sparks. I'm in a frenzy, desperately trying to take as many pictures as possible, while avoiding at the same time fierce heat rash around me. I begin to understand what it must be for a photographer in a war zone!
Burning elephants, bulls and dragons are rapidly consumed in the fire and slowly begin to fall from their high platforms. Too soon it is over, and the heat decreases, I wander through the charred remains. Black and scorched dragon; heads seem to spit real fire, while the trunks of elephants are now reduced to smoldering appendages. It certainly gives new meaning to the term "ashes to ashes"!
Tonight's ashes will be collected and taken to the temple and kept overnight before a grand procession tomorrow made its way to the sea. This history, however, I will leave for another time
NB :.
I am greatly indebted to Fred B. Eisman JR whose trials Bali Sekala & Niskala was helpful in giving me an overview of the complexity of Balinese cremation.
and also for Leo Sinatra for his extraordinary hospitality and an intimate knowledge, which he gave so willingly.
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