DATE???: Three Generations of Rangda

We interviewed Rarem, a man who performs as Rangda in trance ceremonies such as Calanarong.  His son and grandson also put on the Rangda mask and gave us a sample of their performances.  A woman in our group took a series of quick photos (split seconds apart) of the three generations standing next to each other in their courtyard.  Afterwards, she showed me the photos on her camera.  One photo showed all three men.  The next photo showed only two of the men; there was a gap where the third should have been.  The next photo showed all three men again.  It was as if one had disappeared into thin air!

MONDAY: Cleansing and Spontaneous Trance

We went to see a priest in Bangli in the morning.  Her name was Maharsi Alit, and she was only 24 years old.  She is also a Sudra, a member of the lowest caste in Bali.  She told a story of becoming a priest at the age of 21.  She did not want to become a priest, but she couldn’t find a job anywhere — on several islands near Bali including Bali.  She suddenly became very sick and went into a coma.  Her family watched her die and rang the village bell to summon the entire village to her funeral.  For a full day she lay in the village compound.  The family prepared her funeral.  But the woman (Alit) had an out-of-body experience.  She flew above her body and could see her family and the villagers who had assembled.  She tried to tell them, “I am here, I am here,” but no one heard her.  Only after her uncle promised the gods that she would be initiated as a priest did she return to her body and wake up from her death.  She then began the process of becoming a priest.

SATURDAY: Ubud Market, Nur Salon, Jimbaran

Saturday, 3/21/09

Today was our “free day” when nothing was planned for the group.  What a great day.  We had plans to go to the Ubud Market at 6am, but they fell through.  Instead, we headed over in a van at 10am.  Shopping in the slightly claustrophobic, frenetic, colorful, aromatic, touristy marketplace was not a great experience.  But the experience of bargaining in Indonesian with vendors (most of whom were happy to bargain, but a few who simply pretended they hadn’t heard me and kept asking the person speaking English, “How much do you want to pay?”) and watching another member of our group bargain — well actually, she never bargained, she just chose her price and stuck to it.  The vendor would say “120,000 rupiah” for this wooden frog.  And my friend would say “Nah… I’ll give you 25,000.”  The vendor would scoff and return with “Okay, maybe 110,000 rupiah.”  “I don’t think so,” my friend would respond and then she’d add, “25,000.  That’s it.”  This would go back and forth for a while until finally — usually — the vendor would give in.  Although we did get called “crazy” (“gila”) a couple of times for even suggesting that the vendor sell us the item for 1/3 of the offered price. 

FRIDAY: Trance medium

The Jero Desar (sp?) goes into trance and lets the gods speak through her as a medium.  Her voice changes when she is possessed/channeling.  She tells each person who sits with her many things about their lives.  For me, she mentioned a list of about ten parts of my life (e.g. financial situation, occupational success, family harmony).  Some of it was more general than others, but one thing in particular was so specific — and something I had never told anyone — that it shocked me, in a good way.  I won’t disclose it here, but it would be similar in specificity to her saying, “Every saturday, you visit your uncle.”

THURSDAY: We have a healer right here

I thought the point of this trip was to study trance and to compare it with hypnosis (which it is), but I realize that this trip is really about an opportunity to practice and observe healing.  Not just indigenous healing, but the miraculous healing practices of the westerns who are in our group.

We were headed to visit a healer about 45 minutes from Ubud.  One of the people in our van started to get car sick and have a panic attack.  His wife tried to calm him, but it wasn’t helping enough.  I figured out how to ask the driver to pull over in Indonesian.  We stopped a couple of times, but he was still miserable.  We contemplated turning around, but a woman in our van offered, “I can put you in trance.”  He was unsure until his wife said, “She’s like the world’s best at this… you should let her help you.”  We switched seats and she led him through a trance that began with her reassuring him and continued for the next 30 minutes straight, with her talking him through relaxation and letting go.  I gave them privacy by not turning around to look, but I was able to see his face in the rearview mirror and it was stunning.  He was in a deep trance, his body at ease, for the full 30 minutes.  He never once opened his eyes or seemed to in any way be affected by the car ride.  It was a beautiful thing to watch and brought tears to my eyes.

WEDNESDAY: Selamat Hari Raya Galungan!

[Translation:  Happy Galungan!]

Galungan is a major Balinese holiday that happens every 210 days (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galungan).  You’d think that a Balinese healer meeting with a group of tourists on the most auspicious day of the year would offer us something special.  You’d be wrong, unless you consider a sham something special.  Ketut Lier is a famous Balinese healer (mentioned in Eat, Pray, Love).  We figured he’d be above the celebrity status.  Again, we were wrong.  He met with several of our group members but gave the same diagnosis and speech to each one.  Basically, it boiled down to “You are a good person who will go to heaven, you are healthy, you will live to be 100 years old, tell your friends to visit me and bring money.”  Total fraud.  He worked in English clichés such as “It’s not my cup of tea,” which most of us on the spot decided was the most accurate description of his “healing” services.  I think he spent more time pushing his book, TV, movie deal, or whatever, than he did “healing” us.  But one thing was worth the trip.  He had a priest’s bell that instantly put me into trance as soon as he rang it.  It was powerful.  I looked for a similar bell to buy in Ubud, and while I found one similar in tone and effect, it was about $100 (1 million rupiah), which was more than I wanted to spend.

WEDNESDAY: Tolong, bantu saya destar saya.

[Translation:  Please, help me with my destar (ceremonial hat).]

Our group went to Wardani’s (a fabric shop) to get outfitted with temple clothes.  But their selection was minimal at best.  I couldn’t find much I liked, besides a black sarong.  Their saputs (outer sarong) and destars (hats) were hideous and touristy.  I especially wanted a destar cloth that I could learn to fold/tie like the Balinese, rather than a prefabricated sewn one.  So I took my rupiah elsewhere and walked along Monkey Forest road, going in and out of shops asking, “Ada saput dan destar?” (“Do you have a saput and a destar?”)  Most places did not, and if they did, they tried to sell me an ugly touristy one.  Finally, after about five shops, I found a small place with a young woman eager to help me with a traditional destar cloth.  It’s basically a small square of fabric that gets folded a certain way and then worn on the head (see mine at http://tinyurl.com/destar).  The woman asked me if I wanted her to fold it for me and I nodded.  She began to fold it but struggled a bit to get it right.  Her husband was lying on the floor behind the counter.  He was a big guy with tattoos on his arms.  He was lying on his side watching a TV in the next room.  He didn’t do more than grunt, but he let her know she was doing it wrong.  This went on for a few minutes with the woman trying to refold the cloth and the man grunting his disapproval at each step.  Eventually, she asked him to help me and he got up off the floor.  He folded and tied it perfectly and gave it back to her.  I tried it on and it fit great.  I thanked them both and paid for the cloth.  

WEDNESDAY: “Comment dit-on _____?”

I’ve been speaking three languages while I’ve been here.  English, Indonesian, and French.  About a third of our group is from France.  My English is good, my Indonesian is better and better every day (“Saya sudong bichara bahasa Indonesia hari ini” = “I am speaking Indonesian today.”), but my French is horrendous.  Trés mal.  I can say about two words, but can’t make a sentence.  And I can understand about as much spoken French as I can spoken Indonesian (not much at all).  Still, it’s fun to be speaking — and thinking in three languages at the same time.

WEDNESDAY: Riddle: How do you remove a 3-inch spider from your bathroom sink?

Answer:  You don’t.  To paraphrase Sun Tzu, the best way to beat a spider is to avoid one.  So I waited it out and the creature moved on.  The insects in Bali are other-worldly.  From three-inch spiders to four-inch beetles to red ants the size of a grain of sugar.  Those are my least favorite; their bite is painful, and it’s surprising because of their size.  It feels like a poke from a hypodermic needle, one which you weren’t expecting.

I did get to see a firefly — my first — last night.  I can see why people are drawn to them.  It was very cool.  And this morning, there was a tiny lizard on our window blinds.  Just hanging out.

MONDAY: Michael Franti in Bali?

Tamara’s going to kill me when she reads this. I rode on a motorbike today on the dangerous streets of Ubud… without a helmet. With a guy named “Mule” who I just met.

Apparently, Michael Franti shows up in Ubud on a regular basis and does open mics or small venue shows.  How did I find this out?  Let me tell you…