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Sounds of silence in
Bali
By Gary LaMoshi
DENPASAR, Bali - As Balinese prepare for the
year 1925 on the Saka calendar, young men in every
neighborhood banjar are busy building and
displaying ogoh-ogoh, the colorful bamboo and
papier mache demon effigies featured in
celebrations leading to Nyepi, the day of silence
marking the new year. Ogoh-ogoh usually portray
grotesque figures with misshapen claws and fangs
sprouting from monstrous faces.
On Sanur's Jalan
Danau Beratan, one ogoh-ogoh depicts a dancing
red demon standing three meters high. This somewhat
standard ogre is perched on the shoulders of another
figure: a human bearing the face of Amrozi, the first
suspect taken into custody for the Bali bombings. He is
shown holding bombs in each hand, with the timers
reading five minutes to midnight, the moment explosions
destroyed the Sari Club and Paddy's in Kuta last October
12.
Six months after the blasts, those bombs are
still shaping the face of Bali.
Evil
spirit
The men of Banjar Buruwan, where the
Amrozi ogoh-ogoh is on display, call Amrozi
bhuta kala, an evil spirit. "Tourism is 80
percent of the economy," one man dressed in ceremonial
garb says. The industry has been devastated by the
bombings, and now, as another of the men in their
matching batik sarongs, white shirts, and white
udeng wrapped around their heads like bandannas,
notes, by the war in Iraq. But so far, US President
George W Bush hasn't joined the ranks of bhuta
kala worthy of an ogoh-ogoh. "He's not
popular," another Buruwan resident smiles, adding to
that mouthful a further thought that could choke White
House war planners: "Maybe next year." With each new
year, the people of Bali hope to purge bhuta kala
from the world. Ceremonies began three days before Nyepi
with Melasti, a day for cleaning temples. Members of
each of the island's more than 1,000 temples march in
processions with their religious articles to a body of
water - lake, river or ocean - to be purified by the god
Baruna. The ritual objects are then returned to the
temple.
The Melasti ceremonies also aim to
cleanse and rejuvenate the human soul. Water sources are
thought to hold the spirit of Amerta, the source of
eternal life, with the power to purge sin. Melasti aims
to give people, as well as religious articles, a clean
start to the new year.
Demon dance
One
day before Nyepi comes Tawur Kesanga. This day begins
with lavish offerings at home temples specially adorned
with bamboo canes to thank nature for endowing Bali so
richly. Offerings include rice specially cooked in
coconut leaves, chicken, and even beer and arak,
the local firewater. Balinese usually believe that once
an offering is made, what happens to it next is not
important, making the island a virtual paradise for dogs
and other critters. However, Tawur Kesanga is different;
it's the one day you'll see the island's legions of dogs
shooed away from offerings.
At nightfall,
Ngerupuk ceremonies begin, featuring the colorful parade
of ogoh-ogoh that top Western New Year's Eve
spectacles. The ogoh-ogoh are placed on platforms
and carried through villages and towns in a carnival
atmosphere featuring gamelan music and plenty of
other noise. Bamboo cannons boom as part of the clamor
prescribed to drive out evil. At the end of the
processions, the ogoh-ogoh are burned,
symbolically destroying evil in the world
Then
comes the payback: Nyepi, the day of silence. According
to some interpretations, silence following the noise of
Ngerupuk is meant to confuse bhuta kala. Finding
the streets empty and homes quiet, perhaps they will
take their evil elsewhere. Nyepi prohibits traffic,
pleasure, fire, and work. Bali's Ngurah Rai
International Airport shuts down for the day, and
tourists are locked down in their hotels. No one is
permitted on the streets, and each banjar
enforces the restriction.
Points to
ponder
Nyepi is supposed to be a day of
meditation and reflection. This year, Balinese will have
plenty to reflect on, thanks in part to Amrozi and
company.
Bali has cast its lot with the god of
tourism, and the bombings, like the Gulf War of 1991 and
the Asian economic collapse of 1997, provided a reminder
of how fickle this god can be. For example, far fewer
ogoh-ogoh are evident than in previous years.
Each effigy costs about Rp2.5 million (US$280) to
construct, usually funded by contributions from
banjar residents. People have less to give this
time around. Advance bookings for the upcoming
traditional high season, further hit by the war in
Iraq's general impact on international travel, offer
little optimism about a recovery in the near future.
Moreover, the costs of building a tourism
economy include scars on the land and the way of life
(though it has also fueled a revival of Balinese high
culture, in part to preserve it for show). Ironically,
the island famed for its rice-terrace landscapes and
lush gardens now imports rice and even flowers for the
offerings that decorate temples on the island and
shrines in virtually every home and business. Balinese
that lose their jobs in tourism often don't have a rice
field to which they can return.
A Muslim from
Java, Amrozi fits the Balinese stereotype that all bad
things emanate from that neighboring island. Despite
initial anger among Balinese and alarmist articles in
some Java newspapers, there has been no backlash against
Muslims in Bali; followers of Islam face more stringent
monitoring and reporting requirements in the United
States these days.
Bali residents asked many
questions in the immediate aftermath of the explosions.
After 50 years of generating enormous wealth, why
doesn't Bali have a world-class hospital? Why aren't
schools better than in the rest of Indonesia? Where has
all of that wealth gone? How much more of the island
must be destroyed to save it for tourism? Why has
Jakarta had more to say about tourism development in
Bali than the Balinese?
Last October, Bali's
public relations and advertising agencies (whose
businesses depend almost exclusively on tourism) joined
arms to outline a tourism recovery plan involving media
and publicity, around the "Bali Bangkit!" (Bali
Revives!) slogan. Jakarta officials slapped down the
effort and took control of revival efforts. Their plans
emphasize domestic tourism and government meetings in
Bali. One hotel manager, who asks not be identified,
complains that government officials happily come to
Bali, but their departments are far less happy about
paying bills.
Despite the significant, visible
changes due to the October 12 bombing, Jakarta is still
driving the Bali tourism bus. That's something for the
men of Banjar Buruwan and their compatriots to
contemplate this Nyepi.
(©2003 Asia Times Online
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