thePlace

I stare at the dead pig that wedges in the roots of the Breadfruit tree by the waterfall. It was a white pig but now greyish blue, bloated and lying sideway. It looks like a big dirty plastic toy. Wonder how it could be freed and continue its journey to the sea; if it has started smelling, maybe something will start eating it….

 

Thought about Gusman’s drowned body. Uncertain if it looked similar to the dead pig when it was washed up. The deceivingly calm Indian Ocean in Kuta/the Goddess of Ocean carried him off while he was taking a dip. His body was found a day after, near Hardrock café not too far from where he was. Various dukuns and diviners were consulted and all told the same story – Gusman was taken by the beautiful sea goddess Nyi Roro Kidul. The place where his body was found was also accurately predicted. Watching Gusman’s body being hauled to shore by the small boat, a visible sign of relief set in, the grief of the family slightly ameliorated. For now they can give Gusman a proper burial which is the last and most important rite of passage that the family must perform for his short lived life.

 

The body was drove back to the village near Singaraja. An ad hoc simple ceremony was done and the body was burned. I was late and missed the burning of the body - I had to run around town with the scooter trying to buy the right things for the cremation – white cloths, a sack of rice, sugar and coffee, staples he needed while he waits 42 days for his soul to be liberated from his body and from all worldly ties. I also stashed some money in an envelop and gave it to Yudanes, the father.

 

The wailing and crying were heart breaking. I gave Ibu (his mother) a long hug and cried with her. Yudanes took me aside and told me that Gusman knew that he would die young and that was why he was not married at age 31. The last time he was up in the village – about a week ago, he oddly kissed his mother feet, asked for forgiveness and bade goodbye gravely. His mother had scolded him lovingly for his strange behavior. A week later he was drown, he chose the first day of the year.

 

A week later, a special ceremony was performed by the beach where Gusman was drowned. His soul was returned home from the ocean after much offering and incantations by the high priest. The family has asked the Goddess to give back Gusman’s soul to the family. A tray with a human like figurine made from coconut leaves, a cup of coffee, cigarettes, meal and cash given by friends and relatives was brought home in a minibus. Dayu cradled it lovingly and the burning of incense was offered one after another for the entire journey. We even talked jokingly to the tray/Gusman’s soul at one point. I was partly responsible for holding the tray because I was seated in the front seats with Dayu. The artificial fragrance and dense smoke of incense stuffed up my nose and stung my eyes. For the 3 hours journey back to the village, I mostly gazed at the staring photo of Gusman and wished him happiness. In the picture, he is holding two bottles of liquor, brilliantly smiling and looks happy. He was a bartender in a hotel in Kuta.

 

Few days ago I attended the Metoon – the talking to the dead ceremony. This time it is a female Dukun in white – an ordinary looking farm lady with big protruding teeth. She burned a special wood with incense and offering, asked for permissions from the appropriate gods and spirits and chanted incoherently in the smoke-filled room. Suddenly she fainted and went into trance, Gusman came into her body soon after. The lady Dukun first went into the simulation of his drowning. She rolled and tossed, flopped about on the floor as if being swept by the waves and currents of the ocean, noisily making the sounds of gulping water and choking, painfully struggled to his death. S/he awoke crying, looked about him, smiled through tears and hugged everyone. S/he behaved quite normally – drank the wine that was offered, smoked up a storm, laughing and crying at the same time. S/he even sang and played the guitar one handedly - with only slight strumming on the string without proper notes and chords. He answered questions, told stories and asked the family to have wayang kulit (shadow puppet show) shown for the big ceremony 42 days later.

 

S/he said there were 5 of them that went to the beach on that fateful New Year morning. Only 2 of them went into the water. Wishing to cool his body, he only went to about knee deep but a big wave took him in. His time was up and death could no longer be postponed. He was supposed to have gone the week before when he was in Singaraja, but he begged to live a week longer and his wish was granted (Dayu confirmed that they did went to the beach but he refused to swim, and that was also why he kissed his mom’s feet and asked for forgiveness.) Gusman stayed and talked for about 40 minutes. The room was charged with energies and emotions. I was captivated by the whole process and took photos as instructed by the family.

Before leaving the living, he asked the family not to be sad. All that had happened was his destiny and there was nothing that could have stopped it. He laughed about his unwillingness to go and the many ceremonies that were done to attempt to change his fate. But the upper hand is at the side of the gods, he has accepted it now and it’s OK with it. He is now working in the temple and the beings around him are kind to him. He also mentioned that he saw his aunt that had passed on a few months ago.

 

The peculiar thing is, in coming back to the living world, he has forgotten his English when he tried to speak to me. Instead he made sounds like “shi-shi shay-shay, shi-shay-shi.” It sounded more like Mandarin basic tone. Curiously, Gusman or she/the Dukun did say “thank you” perfectly. He kept asking me not to be sad because I was sniffling a lot. Frankly I was more amazed than sad, apparently Gusman didn’t notice that I had a cold and the smoke in the tatty little room irritated my nose.

 

Yudanes’ family was satisfied with the Dukun because she/Gusman knew everyone that was present and knew that his sister was not there in the room – she couldn’t have known unless Gusman has taken over her body. The lady Dukun is not a friend of the family and has no connection with the family before this (although she does live in the same village). S/he also talked of things that only Gusman or someone close to him could have known. The family also explained that when the soul came through trance, his memory is impaired and some important details have been forgotten.

 

I imagine the soul must have gone through quite an ordeal to come back to the world of the living; it must have been a shock to the system. Perhaps his violent death has damaged his memory too. He did have open-wounds on his head when his body was washed up – he explained to the family that his body was hit against the rocks by the strong currents, got caught in the net and the fish had tried taking bites from his body. After the painful death and a summon back to the living, one can’t blame Gusman for forgetting his English and music, or what he had painted, the name of the English guy that went into the water with him, plus some other minor details of his life on earth. After all, we the living, naturally and without any hardship, select our memories, alter events, exaggerate and ignore things that happen around us all the time.

 

Yudanes had been so proud of Gusman. He told me about his son when I first met him. Gusman was tall and good looking, his fair skin took to his mother likeness, he painted, loved to sing, played the guitar and was loved by everyone that knew him. Gusman had a special gift of seeing the unseen. He frequently told stories about a beautiful girl that wouldn’t leave him alone. He told the family about 5 years ago that he would die young. Since then the family was constantly worried about him and had tried in vain to introduce him to girls. He secretly told Dayu once that he was not allowed to have a girlfriend because the invisible one was the jealous type. Many Dukuns were consulted and various ceremonies were done to change the situation – to no avail.

 

  A couple of years ago Gusman painted the beautiful sea goddess Nyi Roro Kidul. The painting is so filled with power that high priests and people with special power are afraid of it. It is still hung in its original position in his room, now accompanied by the tray that lives his soul, his guitar, various photos, and of course the daily offerings. Flanked by 2 great Nagas, Nyi Roro Kidul looks magnificent in the sea of blue. At the cremation, Yudanes offered to give the painting to me because he was afraid to keep it. He just told me now that he couldn’t because a Dukun asked him not to – the painting has to stay with Gusman in his room.

 

 

I was happy not to take it.