waiting for ngaben

8/6/2019 Waiting for Ngaben

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Waiting for Ngaben

Kuta Beach ceased some time ago to be what the brochures say it is. For Robert Goodfellow, the piles of plastic rubbish are signs of a deeper malaise.

Between the early 1970s and the mid 1980s, the area around the Balinese seaside village of KutaBeach, from Bemo Corner to the coconut groves of Legian, reached its zenith as a bottom of themarket tourist destination. For hippies, surfies, travellers and tourists, Kuta and Bali were either 'The Morning of the Earth', the perfect wave or the ultimate escape. With other points of reference on the backpacker's list of must see destinations, Kuta offered some of Indonesia'smost inexpensive, uncomplicated and unpretentious accommodation. It was the first port of callfor young Australians setting off on the well-worn track across Southeast Asia. It was the jumping off point for travel weary Americans or Europeans on their way to Sydney. It was anobligatory destination for generations of young men and women intent on doing Asia.In this article I want to look briefly at some dramatic physical and social changes that havetransformed Kuta Beach into something very different to the image so carefully crafted by the

tourist brochures. I want to argue that the development, or rather decline, of Kuta into somethingof a tourist ghetto is, superficially, a symptom of cultural change. However, I suggest that on adeeper level what is happening in Kuta is a metaphor for modern Indonesia as a whole, a societyin which the trauma of nearly 350 years of colonialism and exploitation of one form or another has come home to roost.Cat urineIt is extraordinary what distorted images can be conjured by a clever photographer. The touristliterature that catalogues a whole range of hotels across Kuta and Legian depicts scenes of outstanding tranquility. The collage creates a mirage of exclusive and luxurious opulence. Whilethis may be true of the inner sanctum of a few five star hotels, the actual state of most budgetlosmens, and the reality of street life in the back lanes, is very different.The slow equatorial rot, the piles of plastic, the overflowing open drains, the mildewed ceilings,toilets that don't work, rooms that smell of neglect and cat urine, the noise and danger of speeding motorcycles, the thump of the empty discos, the offensive outbursts of drunkenAustralians, the prostitutes, petty drug dealers, bag-snatchers, pickpockets, pimps and gigolos,the thousand 'hey! You want transport?', the poisonous clouds of diesel exhaust, the dust, theheat and humidity, the unrelenting hordes of cheap watch sellers, the merciless hawkers of poor quality 'real silver' jewellery, the pathetic peddlers of meaningless bric-a-brac, the sharp tonguedstreet salesmen of doubtful l'objet d'art, the relentless 'hello mister' and 'I lub you', and theinevitable smutty curse rendered incomprehensible by the use of Balinese or Javanese or Madurese, remind one more of the tormented subjects of a Hieronimus Bosch painting than ataste of the last tropical paradise.The hassled expressions on the faces of the Smith children from Sydney as they flee the hawkerslike prey from a hunter, or the heavily hair braided and severely sunburnt semiotics of newlymarried Mr. and Mrs. Munz from Dusseldorf, pathetically clutching their abdomens whilesearching for the public toilet that doesn't exist, begs the fundamental questions: When does thefun start? Is the welcome drink now a poison chalice? At what point did the free transporttransfer make a terrible detour?AntipathyChange in Kuta has been swift and relentless, even brutal. Twenty years ago Legian was a



coconut grove, now it is a city. Billions of tourist dollars have siphoned through Bali, turningrice farmers into millionaires, petty merchants into owners of conglomerates, irrevocably alteringthe social order. Now everyone wants a piece of the action. And why not? In the artificial worldof mass tourism with its five nights package (plus breakfast and welcome drink), wealth, for most ordinary Balinese, is at once highly visible and practically unobtainable. This relationship

is now fruiting as frustration and violence. In recent months there have been reports of heatedverbal and even physical confrontation as tourists and hawkers play out their mutually createdantipathy. The more aggressive the hawkers, the less likely they will make a sale. Withdiminishing business comes an even more desperate approach, and so on.The word is out that Kuta is no longer in. A sumptuous platter of alternate destinations isseductively offered to the budget tourist, promising other last paradises that are 'just like Bali(read Kuta) used to be'.On a superficial level Kuta's rise and fall is easy to explain. As Denpasar-based anthropologistDegung Santikarma explains, 'you can imagine what agony goes through the mind of anIndonesian wage labourer who earns Rp.3000 (Aus. $1.20) a day when a tourist pulls out a rollof banknotes equal to that person's entire year's income, and then, just orders and cheese and

tomato jaffel. Consciously and subconsciously the aggressive behaviour of the hawkers is either their way of taking back some control in a world that is out of control, or it is their own privateform of revenge'.Perhaps like the fathers before them, a new generation of colonised Indonesians are fighting aguerilla action. This time it is not against the Dutch but against the late Twentieth Century,which has punched and brawled its way into their lives like a violent drunk. This time, the fightis neither heroic nor hopeful.One of my Balinese friends, a high school teacher, reminded me of the delicate balance of Kuta'shigh wire act. 'All it will take is a tidal wave, a major eruption of Mt. Agung, a world recession,another Gulf War or national instability, and the whole circus will collapse. Then what will theKuta traders do? They will be back in the padi with their feet in the mud planting rice again!'.While this may be the case, this statement betrays a deeper symptom of Indonesian modernity - aweary acceptance of the way things are, a perceived inability to confront change and make anindividual and moderating contribution to it. It shows dullness of spirit. Because of this, at leastin Kuta Beach, there appears to be none of the nationalistic idealism that inspired a previousgeneration to confront European colonialism.DeferenceHowever, perhaps of more relevance to Kuta's hospitality industry, this malaise is compounded by the fact that there is no contemporary tradition of popular critical thinking. Most youngIndonesians have not been trained in lateral or independent analysis. There is little initiative.Rather, everything isbapakism, an officially encouraged paternalism that produces automaticdeference to a higher authority.Bapakism ensures that decisions are rarely made. Even the most minor concession to protocol isunthinkable. This results in human programming rather than training. No one can authorise thefixing of the leaking toilet, replace the broken fan or alter the breakfast menu to adapt toindividual tastes. No one can act outside rigidly set parameters. Nothing can be done without permission. This frustrates Western tourists accustomed to the cult of the individual, who cannotappreciate the nuances of Indonesian social history and adjust their expectations accordingly.What then will keep the tourists coming back? Obviously owners of capital and the governments'central planners believe that more five star hotels and elite tourism are the answer to occupancy



rates of around 40% or lower. This bizarre reinvention of the cargo cult produces an unwantedcommodity (luxury hotel rooms) and then patiently waits for the customers that will never come,while, clearly, the greater need is for good one and two star accommodation, the sort that KutaBeach was well known for. And even when they do come, the elite tourists are easily frightenedaway. This became clear when the recent 'cholera' scare (Bali belly) resulted in the cancellation

of thousands of Japanese bookings.But with the appeal gone, the spirit broken, perhaps what the battered body of Kuta is waiting for is ngaben, ritual cremation. Perhaps what Kuta desperately needs is physical and spiritualreincarnation. iiRob Goodfellow is a PhD student in the Department of History and Politics at the University of Wollongong

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Ngaben Ceremony: Tickets to the Hell (or Heaven)A friend of mine who is currently living in Washington DC asked me questions about Ngaben,the cremation ceremony of Balinese Hindu. At first, I was wondering why she asked suchquestions which I believed she can easily get tons of answers on the webs. Then I tried to findout about Ngaben in search engines. I found most of the explanations about Ngaben on the webis way too formal. It is way too a, b, c, d, e, f and so on, you know what I mean. Now I knowwhy she asked me the questions, to find out the answers from a different perspective.Anyway, what is Ngaben really all about? Have you seen Hindu followers in India doing thecremation ceremony? It is simply the same basically. However Balinese Hindu do it differentlywhich is I strongly believe as the adjustment to the Balinese local culture. Yes I compare it withHindu followers in India as the original source of Hinduism. This is my own version of Ngaben



definition, it is a cremation ceremony so the body of the dead can be µreturned¶ (by burning it) toit¶s origin which is called Panca Maha Bhuta (the five elements): the earth, water, fire, air andether and the soul of the dead can be ¶sent¶ to the hell or to the heaven.In other words, Ngaben ceremony is kind of a ticket/visa or even a green card for soul of thedead so they can enter the hell or the heaven. Well I put the hell first as I believe most people are

sinners so most likely they are going to hell first rather than to heaven. Balinese Hindu believethat when people die their soul is staying in a special holy place called Dalem Puri Temple whichlocated in the Mother Temple of Besakih. So before their families do the Ngaben ceremony, their soul will be there forever both as a ¶servant¶ or even to be tortured if they are heavy metal sinner when they were alive. Once the families do the Ngaben ceremony, the soul will automatically geta ticket to the hell or the heaven based of their µqualification¶. How does it work? How is theticketing process done? Sorry I can not explain further. I am not dead yet.Is Ngaben expensive? It depends on who does the Ngaben. It can be as cheap as $500 and it can be as expensive as $100.000 or more. How come? What happen in Bali nowadays is theyconsider Ngaben as a media for show of force. Just like when they buy a car. For the poor, theywill do what we call a mass cremation ceremony. All families of the dead (of the same village)

will do the ceremony together so the cost can be minimized as one equipment will be usedtogether by all the soul of the dead. For the rich people, they will do a private Ngaben ceremony.It is full of privacy though. Think like this, the poor soul will take a bus while the rich soul willtake a limo. In every Ngaben ceremony, there is a ritual equipment called Wadah or the bigtower in which the dead will be placed. It is considered as µthe car¶ to take them to the hell or heaven.How the ceremony is done? First of all, there should be a dead ones. There will be a precedingceremony to dig the bones of dead and placed them into a temporary place before placed into the big tower. So many ritual and offerings are going on during this stage. The second stage is placing the dead into the big tower and carrying it to the cemetery to be burnt out. The last stageis called Ngerorasin ceremony which is usually done after 12 days of the second stage. This laststage is to confirm that the ceremony is officially completed and make sure the soul got their ticket. Whether they are getting a ticket to the hell or heaven, it is not a business of their families.It is all up to the them now, the souls themselves based on what they have done when they werealive.

waiting for ngaben

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