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Strange as it seems, it is in their creamation ceremonies that the Balinese have their greatest fun. A.cremation is an occasion for gaiety and not for mourning, since it represents the accomplishment of their most sacred -duty: the ceremonial burning of the corpses of the dead to liberate their souls so that they can thus attain the higher worlds inid-befree for reincarnation into better beings. At cremation ceremonies hundreds of people in a wild stampede carry the beautiful towers, sixty feet high, solidly built of wood and bamboo and decorated with tinsel and expensive silks, in which the bodies are transported to the cremation grounds. There the corpses are placed in great cows (hewn out of tree-trunks to serve as coffins and covered with precious ma. terials) , and cows, towers, offerings, and ornaments are set on fire, hundreds and even thousands of dollars burned in one afternoon in a mad splurge of extravagance by a people who value the necessities of life in fractions of pennies. To the Balinese, the material body is only the shell, the container of the soul. This soul live in evry part of the body, even in the hair and nails, but it is concentrated in the head which is near-holy to them. A Balinese observes the rank of his head inrelation to the rest of his body, and for this reason no one would -stand on his head or take any position that would place his feet on. a higher level. It is an offence even to pat a small child on the head and there is no worse insult than " I'll beat your head! " One's soul wanders away during sleep (dreams arc its travels and adventures), without becoming, however, entirely detached from the body, and it is considered dangerous to awaken a person too suddenly. Children are never beaten, so as not to shock their tender, still undeveloped souls. Madness,
epilepsy, and idiocy are the results of a bewitched soul, but oedinary
sickness is due to a weakened, polluted soul rather than to mere physical
causes. ' Life vanishes when the soul, Cremation
rites were probably not introduced into Bali until the time of majapahit,
about. the'thirteenth century but the ancient Balinese animists already,
believed that their 'life-fluid Between incarnations, until the time comes for its return to this. earth, the soul goes to Indra's heaven, the swarga, a reservoir where "life is just as in Bali, but devoid of all trouble and illness." But this process does not go on forever; when the individual has attained the highest', wisdom and has reached the highest position among men, that of a Brahmana who has been ordained as a priest, he hopes to obtain liberation from this cycle of births. and become a god. The man of low caste attributes his state to former misconduct, redeemable in future lives only through a virtuous existence, which entitles him to be reborn into a higher and higher caste. A mans life on this earth is but an incident in the long process of the soul's evolution. The grand send-off of the soul into heaven, in the form of a rich and complete cremation, is the life-ambition of every Balinese. He looks forward to it, often making provision during life with savings or property that can be pawned or sold to finance his cremation. The greatest happiness that comes to a Balinese -family, is to have, in this way, accomplished the liberation of, the souls of their dead, but complete cremation ceremonies are so costly that a family of limited means have to wait often for years., haunted by the fact that their dead are not yet cremated, and are sometimes obliged to sacrifice their crops and their lands in order to pay for the ceremonies. The expenses of, a cremation are enormous; besides the priest's fees, the great amounts of holy water used and the costly towers coffins offerings and so forth there is the food and entertaiment provide for days for the hundreds of guest and assistants that help in the ceremonies A rich-cremation adds greatly to the prestige o a well-to-do family, giving occasion for gay, extravagant festivities that are eagerly anticipated despite the financial burden they represent A good average for a great cremation is seldom thousand ringgits or about two million kepengs (a ringgit is worth about one gold dollar in normal exchange), but there:' cremations of princes that cost as much as fifty thousand guilders (at the time of writing, about twenty five thousand dollars
A Brahmanic
priest is essential to a, proper.crmation and only the destitute would
call upon a lesser priest,the quality of the ceremonies the priest performs
is determined by, the to him. There is a choice of three kinds of cremation
utama the highest, costing an average of fifty dollars in,fees for the
priest alone; madia the medium class cremation for about twenty-five dollars;
and nista, the low for about five dollars The rites for each are abaut-the
same the difference consisting
THE BODY To the Balinese
only-the,soul is really important, the body being simply an unclean object:
no hysteria. Details which would be considered weird and shocking elsewhere
are regarded naturally and with great indifference. I have seen a. corpse
poked, to help it bum, by relatives who were making loud jokes and scolding
the body because-it would not burn quickly enough, so they could go home. A sign of
death in a house is the lamp called damar kurung, on the first auspicious day after the death occurs, two' are erected in the courtyard of the house for the purificaton of, the body; one for the sun and another for Pradjapati, the deity of cremation. These are decorated with lamaks and filled offerings that are renewed daily. The naked corpse is then, placed on a stretcher wit its sexual parts covered with a small, of cloth or by the hand of the wife or husband. The, sprinkles the body with holy water and recites prayers; t combed and anointed with perfumed oil and the teeth are filed off if this had not been done during life. The body is then rubbed with a mixture of rice flour and tumeric, with salt, vineger and sandalwood powder. The toes and thumbs are bound with white yarn, and rolls of kepengs are tied to the hands which are folded over the breast in an attitude of prayer. the banten sutji: shreds of mirror glass which are laid on lids, bits of steel on the teeth, a gold ring with a ruby mouth, jasmine flowers in the nostrils, and iron nails on,, limbs - all symbols of the more perfect senses with person will be reborn; stronger and more beautiful, as bright as mirrors, teeth like steel, breath as fragrant as'_' and bones of iron ", (according to Wirtz). The head is covered with a white cloth, and an egg is rolled all over -the body to signify its newly acquired purity. The corpse is next wrapped in many yards of white cloth, in a straw mat, and again in more yards of cloth, and finally bound tightly on the rant6, an external covering of split bamboo tied with rattan. If the corpse is to be buried and not mummified, it is taken to the cemetery with music, accompanied by singing relatives, who carry offerings and bamboo tubes with holy water. Before lowering the body into the shallow grave, the offerings are dedicated to Mother Earth, a prayer is recited, and money is thrown in to pay for the ground used. The corpse is laid in the grav6 with an open bamboo tube in the place of the mouth to let the soul out, the grave is filled, and a bamboo structure with a roof of white tissue paper is erected over it. A small altar of bamboo is placed next to the grave for offerings, brought daily for a period of twelve days. Offerings are brought again forty-two days after the date of death, when it is considered, that the soul has been completely detached from the body and the cremation can take place, provided there is money available; otherwise it has to be postponed until means are obtained, often years later. The high
priest is next consulted to determine the propitious day on which to bold
the cremation - a date far enough in advance to allow for the elaborate
preparations. A few days before the date named, the relatives start for
the cemetery to dig up the remains. The grave is opened and the body removed
or as much of the body as remains after an interment which lasts from
a month and seven days to even two years and longer. Sometimes there is
not more than a few bones to be found, but even these are collected and
arranged as nearly as possible in the form of the human body. These are
wrapped in a bundle of new white cloth and carried back to the house.
It was an eerie sight. when on a rainy day the men of Pemetjutan were
opening the graves for a mass cremation, searching the mud-filled trenches,
cavorting and shouting with delight the discovery of a blackened jaw-bone
or a femur. and brocades and ornamented with the family's heirlooms: go] and silver vessels, peacock feathers, jewelled krisses, and so forth The remains are covered with many cloths bearing magic inscriptions, over which are placed the offerings and the many ritual accessories that symbolize or contain the dead:man's soul. Among these are the kekreb sinom, a sort of lattice of coconut leaves with flowers in the crossings; and the ukur, a human representation showing the proper position of the bones and nerves, usually simply kePengs (the bones), strung on ropes of white yarn (the nerves), but the prosperous use ukurs made -of silver or gold plaques representing the head, hands, feet, and bones held together by wires of the same metal. These are used for display and are replaced by an ordinary ukur.of coins for the actual burning. An interesting accessory is the angenan, a curious structure made of a'ripe coconut filled with rice (the heart) as the base of an upright stick surmounted by an elaborate structure of. coloured threads (the brains) and a little lamp made of an eggshell (the soul) , supported by a bent piece of rattan - (the arm). This is supposed to commemorate the love and remembrance of the dead person. Of great importance is the kadjang, a sort of, shroud, yards of white cloth covered 'with cabalistic symbol$.. drawn by the priest, who also writes the ulantaga, the credentials. by which the soul is admitted into the swarga, inscriptions on little pieces of a sort of- tapa from Celebes, a specially prescribed,',. paper made of beaten tree-bark. Offerings are made again to the sun, to Pradjapati, and for the evil spirits. There are also special offerings for the soul itself to take along on its trip to the beyond: food for the soul, for its retinue, and for presents to give out',, along its way. These are the ponguriagan, pisang djati, nasi angkab, pandjang ilan, and bubuh pirata, the essential cremation offerings. THE SOUL By this time
the corpse has lost'all importance,' and from this time on, the family
is concerned entirely with the soul of the dead person, A most important
accessory for the ensuing ceremonies, and the object around which the
rites revolve, is the adegan, the effigy in which the soul is embodied
to be purified. The adegan consists of two images', one silhouetted out
of palm leaf in the traditional tjili shape and a more realistic one drawn
on a thin tablet of sandalwood:, bound together and placed- on a, silver
vase that rests on a silver platter. Betel-nut, sirih leaves and flowers
for praying are placed inside the vase to make the. soul comfortable and,
nothing being too good for it the to-do add a third,image made of beaten
gold, bracelets, ankleits and a comb of silver.or gold. The person's.name
is written a small label of palm-leaf attached to each adegan. There is
effigy for each corpse, but only the adegan is used should remains be
available; for instance, if no bones should be found on opening the grave,
if its location has been forgotten, or if. The souls
are provided daily with " drinks," holy water,from sacred springs.
Processions go regularly to distant mountain-springs to fill the new clay
pots inscribed with a lotus and I The procession
goes to the priest's house, where he waits to consecrate the effigies
through a performance of maweda, the spoken formula emphasized by gestures
of the hands. The priest recites his formulas, flings flowers, and sprinkles
holy water towards the effigies, which are reverently held in front of
him by the kneeling girls. After the ceremony the procession returns home,
stopping along the way in the temple of the family's origin to offer a
final prayer. At the house, towards dusk, the baris dancers perform war
dances to cast a protecting net of magic vibrations, and shows are given
to entertain the guests. Relatives, guests, and populace spend the night
divided between watching an all-night shadow-play and listening to public
readings of the Balinese classic Bhima Swarga, the tale of the fantastic
adventures of Bhima on his visit to Hades. Tradition prescribes that this
should be read aloud from beginning to -end on the eve of cremation. In
dark comers people huddle to steal naps. Outside, the orchestras, among
them the gambang, only heard at cremations, boom and bum throughout the
night.
THE CREMATION The great towers in which the corpses are carried to the cremation ground and the animal-shaped coffins in which they will be burned, the two most spectacular factors in a cremation, have waited ready for days in some corner of the village, covered with screens of woven palm-leaf.
From dawn of the day of the cremation the house teems with excited people attending to the last details; the hosts wait on the notable guests, the women see to the offerings, hordes of halfinaked men proceed to uncover the towers and the sarcophagi and bring them to the front of the house gate. Delegations are sent to the cremation grounds to put the final touches on the bamboo altars and on the platforms of tightly packed earth, roofed with coloured paper and tinsel, where the corpses will be cremated. When everything is ready and the guests have been served with their final banquet, the village kulkul is beaten to start the march to the cremation grounds; the way to the tower is cleared of evil influences by sprinklings of holy water, and a great fire is often made to prevent rain during the day. Eventually the corpses are taken' out, not through the gate, but over a bridge or through a hole knocked out somewhere in the house walls. The groups of men in loincloths that carry the bodies are greeted with fireworks, and handfuls of kepengs are scattered, as a traditional custom and not because the people actually believe the evil spirits to be interested in pelnnies. A second party waits outside ready to snatch the corpse from the first group, and a realistic free-for-all ensues; one group rushes against the other, yelling and. hooting like madmen until the attacking party runs off, knocking one another down, turning and. whirling the body in all directions " to confuse it so that it can not find its way back to the house." The corpse is disrespectfully rough-handled all the way to the tower, carried up the bamboo runway, and securely tied to the plank on the uppermost stage, the bale balean. Meantime the women, unconcerned with pranks of the men, rush to the cremation place in a disorderly',,,, stampede, quite in contrast with the solemn procession of the day', before. Instead of silks and gold, they wear ordinary clothes and most of them go with uncovered breasts. They carry the accessories, offerings, and the pots of holy water. The decaying evilspirit offerings that lay for days near the corpses are piled up on bamboo stretchers and rushed to the cemetery, followed by hordes of hungry dogs that fight for the rotten food that falls oil the ground. Although
there is no organization committee, the procession is soon under way.
The orchestras that have played incessantly since the day before march
at the head of the parade followed by the spear-bearers, the baris dancers,
and the men who carry the cows; then come the women with the effigies,
then the towers and the bridges, carried by a wild mob of lialf-naked,
shouting men who deliberately choose the most difficult paths, falling
into ditches and splashing each other with mud, almost toppling the towers
over, and whirling them to further mislead the dead. The high priest rides
in a dignified and mystic attitude amidst all this hullabaloo. Each tower
is led to the cemetery by a long rope tied at one end to the platform
where the corpses are fastened, the other end held by the hands of relatives.
This rope has a special significance, and in cremations of members of
the royal family, the descendants of the Dewa Agung of Klungkung, it takes
the shape of a great serpent that serves as a vehicle for the souls. The noisy procession dashes along in disorderly fashion, raising clouds of dust, accompanied by fireworks and war music, until it reaches the cemetery, just outside the village. There the cows are placed on the bald pabasmian, the cremation pavilions, their final destination; a canopy of new white cloth, a " sky," is stretched under the paper and tinsel roof directly over the funeral pyre, and detachments from the procession walk three times around the pavilions to do them honour. The bridge is placed against the tower and men run up the runway while the attendant who rode on the tower releases two small chickens that were tied by the feet to the posts of the stage where the bodies are fastened. They are used as a substitute for the doves that in olden times were released by the widows that were sacrificed and cremated with the corpse of a prince. Their significance was probably symbolic, although the Balinese now say that they are only " to teach the soul bow to fly. This may be a typical tongue-in-cheek Balinese answer to dodge a complicated explanation for out siders. The remains are then handed down by the mien lined along the runway until they reach the ground. Each group carrying a corpse is attacked again by another party of yelling men who aim to take the body by force in fierce hand-to-hand battles. Clothes are torn to shreds and men are trampled upon until the victorious party makes away with the corpse. Meantime women attendants spread the kadjang, the long white shroud which they hold stretched over their heads, attaching one end of the cloth to the corpse, held up high by as many hands as its length permits. Thus led by the kadi2ng, the body is taken to the coffin, now opened by lifting the lid that forms the back of the animal, and the corpse is placed inside. Relatives crowd around it to supervise the last details and have a last look at the body, which they expose by cutting the many bindings with a special knife inscribed with magic syllables. The high priest steps onto the platform and recites prayers over the corpse, at intervals pouring pot after pot of holy water on it, dashing the empty pots to the ground to break them, which is one of the rules. The body is so thoroughly soaked in holy water that one begins to wonder bow it is possible that it will bum. Next the important accessories,' together with thousands of kepengs as ransom to Yama, the lord of bell, are spread over the body; costly- silks and brocades are piled on it, and the lid is replaced, while the more voluminous offerings are put under the coffin to serve as fuel. The priest stands facing the closed coffin for a final blessing and often he himself sets off the pyre. Fire from matches is considered unclean and it should be procured by friction or by a sun-glass. The orchestras play all at once, the angk1ung louder and more aggressive than ever, while the gambang hums solemnly near where the old men and the women relatives have assembled to watch the body burn. The air is heavy with the odour peculiar to cremations, which haunts one for hours after, a mixture of decaying organic matter, sweating bodies, trampled grass, charred flesh, and smoke. The mob plunders the towers to rescue the mirrors, silks, and tinsel before it is set on fire. Everybody is tense and they dash about excitedly feeding the fires, all except the high priest, who is in a trance, performing the last maweda on a high platform, the elderly men, who drink palm wine from Tall bamboo vessels, sitting in a boisterous group, and the daughters and wives of the dead men, who remain unemotionally quiet in the background. The men in
charge poke the corpses unceremoniously with long poles, adding debris
from the towers, all the while joking and talking to the corpse. The crowd
is neither affected nor touched by the weird sight of corpses bursting
out of the halfburned coffins, becoming anxious only when the body is
slow to burn. Soon the cow's legs give way and the coffin collapses, spilling
burning flesh and calcinated bones over the fire until they are totally
consumed, often not without a good deal of poking. Small boys are then
permitted to fish out the kepengs with long sticks after the unburned
pieces of wood are taken away. Water is poured over the embers, and the
remaining bits of bone with some ashes are piled into a little mound which
is covered with palm-leaves. Green branches of dadap are tied to each
of the four posts of the cremation pavilion, and surrounded by a rope
of white yarn, thus closing it " to forget the dead." The remaining
ashes ire then blessed and placed in an urn, a coconut inscribed with
the magic ong and wrapped in white cloth. It is customary that this be
done just as the sun has begun to set. A new procession is formed for
the march to the sea, where the ashes will be disposed of. On arrival
at the seashore, or at, the river if the sea is too far away, the priest
Wades into the water to ask of the sea or the river spirit to carry the
ashes safely out. The ashes are then carefully strewn over the waters
and the whole congregation bathes, to cleanse themselves before returning
home in the darkness.
THE SACRIFICE OF WIDOWS Cremation rites have remained practically unchanged for the last three hundred years, except perhaps for the suppression of the notorious Indian custom of suttee, the sacrifice of widows of deceased notables, burned alive on their husband's pyre. This custorn seems to have enjoyed great popularity at one time among the Balinese aristocracy, although today it has become Merely a legend. A hundred years ago the pioneer historian of the Malay Archipelago, John Crawfurd, gave us the first English account of a widow-burning that took place in 1633, when the Dutch sent a mission to Bali to gain the prince of Gelgel, then sole sovereign, as their ally against the Sultan of Mataram, who was driving attacks on Batavia. The Dutch found the Balinese king making preparations for the cremation of his wife and his two eldest sons. The manuscript account of the mission was translated by a Monsieur Prevost and published in an early histoire des Voyages. Among the passages of the Dutch narrative quoted by Crawfurd are the following: ... About noon, the queen's body was burnt without the city with twenty-two of her female slaves. . . . The body was drawn out of a large aperture made in the wall to the right side of the door, in the absurd opinion of cheating the devil. . . . The female slaves destined to accompany the dead went before, according to their ranks . . . each supported behind by an old woman, and carried on a Badi (tower), skillfully constructed of bamboos, and decked all over with flowers. Before them were placed a roast pig, some rice, betel and other fruits as an offering to their gods, and these unhappy victims of the most direful idolatry are thus carried in triumph, to the sound of different instruments, to the place where they are to be poignarded and consumed by fire. There, each found a particular scaffold prepared for her, in the form of a trough, raised on four short posts and edged on two sides with planks. . . . Some of the attendants let loose a pigeon or a fowl, to mark that their soul was on the point of taking its flight to the mansions of the blessed. . . . They were divested of all their garments, except their sashes, and four of the men, seizing the victim, two by the arms, which they held extended, and two by the feet, the victim standing, the fifth prepared himself for the execution, the whole being done without covering the eyes. . . . " Some
of the most courageous demanded the poignard themselves, which they received
in the right hand, passing it to the left, after respectfully kissing
the weapon. They wounded their right arms, sucked the blood which flowed
from the wound, and stained their lips with it, making a bloody mark on
the forehead with the point of the finger. Then returning the dagger to
their executioners, they received a first stab between the false ribs,
and a second under the shoulder blade, the weapon being thrust up to the
hilt towards the heart. As soon as the horrors of death were visible in
the countenance, without a complaint escaping them, they were permitted
to fall on the ground . . . and were stripped of their last remnant of
dress, so that they were left in a state of perfect nakedness. The executioners
receive as their reward two hundred and fifty, pieces of copper money
of about the value of five sols each, The ' nearest relations, if they
be present, or persons hired for the occa. sion . . . wash the bloody
bodies . . . covering them with wood " The women were already poignarded and the greater number of them in flames, before the dead body of the queen arrived, borne on a superb Badi of pyramidal form, consisting of eleven steps, supported by a number of persons proportioned to the rank of the deceased. . . . Two priests preceded the Badi in vehicles of particular form, each holding in one hand a cord attached to the Badi, as if giving to understand that they led the deceased to heaven, and with the other ringing a little bell, while such a noise of gongs, tambours, flutes and other instruments is made, that the whole ceremony has less the air of a funeral procession than of a joyous village~fcstival. . . . The dead body was placed on its own funeral pile which was forthwith lighted. The assistants then regaled them selves with a faast while the musicians, without cessation, struck the car with a tumultous melody, not unpleasing. . . . " At the funeral of the King's two sons a short time before, 42 woman of the one, and 34 of the other, were poignarded and burnt in the manner above described; but on such occasions the princesses of royal blood themselves leap at once into the flames . . . because they would look upon themselves as dishonoured by anyone's laying hands on their persons. For this purpose a kind of bridge is erected over a burning pile, which they mount, holding a paper close to their foreheads, and having their robe tucked under their arm. As soon as they feel the beat, they precipitate themselves into the burning pile. . . . In case firmness should abandon them . . . a brother, or another near relative, is at hand to push them in, and render them, out of affection, that cruel office. . . . when a prince
or princess of the royal family dies, their women Or slaves run around
the body, tittering cries . . . and all crazily solicit to die for their
master or mistress. The King, on the following day, designates those of
whom lie makes choice. From that moment to the last of their lives, they
are daily conducted at an early 11our, each in her vehicle, to the sound
of musical instruments . . . to perform their devotions, having their
feet wrapped in white linen, for it is no more permitted them to touch
the bare earth, because they are considered as consecrated. The young
women, little skilled
The remainder of the narrative proceeds like any other of the great cremations that are held today. Another interesting account of widow-burning is given us by an eyewitness, the scholar Friederich, of the cremation of the Dewa Manggis, Radja of Gianyar, which took place in that town on December 22, 1847: " The
corpse was followed by the three wives who became Belas. A procession
went before them, as before the body. . . . They were seated in the highest
storeys of the Bades. . . . After the body of the prince had arrived at
the place of cremation, the three Belas in their Bades, each preceded
by the bearer of the offerings destined for her, with armed men and bands
of music, were conducted to the three fires " During the whole time from the burning of the prince till the leap of the victims, the air resounded with the clangour of numerous bands of music; small cannon were discharged and the soldiers had drawn up outside the fire and contributed to the noise by firing off their muskets. There was not one of the 50,000 Balinese present who did not show a merry face; no one was filled wit], repugance and disgust except a few Europeans whose only desire was to see the end of such barbarities." It was only
the wives of princes that were thus sacrificed; the Brahmanas did not
consider it necessary for the redemption of From the time their decision was made, the widows were regarded as already dead and deified. They lived a life of constant pleasures, exempt from all duties and constantly attended by the other wives. Their feet were not supposed to touch the impure ground and, like goddesses, they were carried everywhere, lavishly dressed and half-entranced. A Brahmanic priestess was constantly at their side, encouraging them to their sacrifice with flowery descriptions of the beauties of life among the gods. Friederich tells that when tile time came, they were so thoroughly hypnotized that " they jumped into the fire as if it were a bath." However shocking this practice may seem to us, it is not difficult to understand why it was acceptable to die Balinese; the scriptures not only sanctioned it, but even encouraged the sacrifices, and to the victims it was a short cut to attain the higher spiritual state ever so much more important than their insignificant physical life on this earth. Both the early Dutch narrative and Friederich make it clear that no compulsion was used and that the women to be sacrificed had to make their decision by the eighth day after their husband's death. They could,, neither withdraw nor volunteer later. The Dutch did all that was in their power to stamp out this practice and set a strict prohibition on widow-sacrifices. The last, official cremation in which a woman was burned took place just after the conquest of South Bali; we were present, however, at a cremation in Sukawati at which we were told by a reliable in former that the noble wife of the deceased prince had died conveniently in a mysterious manner three days before the cremation in order to be burned together with her husband. Despite the Dutch claim of having suppressed widow-sacrifices, it seems that the custom was already dying out, like many other extravagant practices that became too costly. Nearly one hundred years ago, during two years' residence in the island, Friederich witnessed only one case of widow-burning, that which he describes.
THE AFTERMATH To have got rid of the corpse that, with its uncleanliness, bound the soul to the material world, despite the strenuous sacrifices of the family and the countless rites performed does not yet mean that the duties of the descendants are over. It is now essential that the liberated soul be consecrated by further ceremonies, often even more elaborate than the cremation itself, as one of the pitara, the full-fledged ancestral deities. After this the soul receives the name of Dewa Yang, literally a " God," and is allotted a resting-place in the family temple to protect the household. There are further minor ceremonies within the next twelve days after the remains have been disposed of, such as the metuhun, when the relatives congregate and through a medium, usually a medicine-man, a balian in a trance, communicate with the soul to ask if all is well. I was told that once the balian encountered difficulties in establishing contact with the soul, but an old woman relative suddenly went into ecstasy and spoke to the spirit of the dead man in order to inform the anxious family of the success of the cremation. Then there are the ngerebuhin, when the soul receives offerings, and the mapegat, the final breaking of the last ties with this earth, symbolized by burning a thread and smashing egg-shells. The relatives, the house, and the precious objects used in the ceremonies that were not meant to be destroyed have still to be cleansed from the impurity they acquired by their contact with the dead. But the greatest of all the funeral ceremonies, the consecration of the soul, is the mukur, when the deceased is symbolized by an object called a " blossom," by means of which the ceremonies are performed. The mukur takes place forty-two days after the cremation and consists in offerings and magic incantations by the high priest, meritorious acts to help the travelling soul to attain its highest goal, the heaven allotted to it by caste, and to predispose the supreme judges to overlook minor sins and be lenient. There are various heavens, each on a higher and higher level, the stages of the cosmic meru, symbolized by the temple pagodas and by the cremation towers. Each heaven is dedicated to one of the castes: the highest is of course for the Brahmana Siwa, the next for the Brahmana Budda, and the lower ones for the Satrias and wesias. The common people have to be content to go to the swarga, the purgatory where they enjoy a perfect life in pure Balinese earthly fashion. The mukur ceremony is extremely complicated, but is, in a way, so similar to the cremation itself that a detailed description of it would only result in a repetition of the ceremonies already described. The same guests are entertained, similar offerings and accessories are made, the same priests are engaged, ,and a second tower (bukur) is constructed, this time tall and slender and entirely decorated in white and gold. Again many orchestras and troupes of actors arc engaged and pretentious banquets of turtle and roast pig are served. Great stages
raised high above the ground are built at the house for offerings and
for the priest. The altars are higher and more beautifully decorated than
ever, the devil offerings more elaborate than before, and the participants
wear their best clothes and jewellery, the women adding a band of white
cloth and a little fan of white paper worn on the head as a symbol of
the purity of the occasion. The ceremonies begin by the making of new
effigies identical to the adegans used for the cremation, which are given
life, blessed, purified by the priest, and then killed " by being
burned. The ashes are collected and placed in individual coconut shells
with a short stick through their After the night of vigil spent in watching dramatic performances, listening to music, and so forth, the priest performs his most powerful mantras, the relatives pray, and the sekars are brought down, each member of the family placing one over his or her head to absorb their beneficial influence. They are then broken up, burned, and the ashes placed again in a new sekar identical with the former. These are placed on the white and gold biers and again a great procession starts off for the sea, of ten miles away, with the same mad recklessness as when the corpses were carried to be cremated. The procession stops a, the seashore and the sekars are brought down, placed on a boat, and taken out to the open sea, where they arc thrown into the waters, far enough so that they will not be washed ashore. The biers are again dismantled and burned. All the accessories are destroyed; nothing must remain, and what is not broken tip is burned. Special patrols are appointed to destroy whatever is returned by the waves. The ceremony over, the happy participants, now relieved of their strenuous duties, take a general bath just at the water's edge, the women unconcerned in a group just a few yards away from the boisterous men, who play and splash in the breaking waves, There is still the long walk home from the shore, and the crowd returns in the blazing midday sun - hot, exhausted, and considerably poorer than before, but in high spirits and happy to have accomplished
their greatest duty to those to whom they owe their existence: the consecration
of their dead so that they shall continue to guide them as deities in
the same way in which, as ordinary human beings, they helped and protected
them. All of this has been achieved by the triple purifying action of
earth, fire, and water.
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