Back to Bali on Oct 21.   Mum arrived a day or two later, giving us a chance to show her around before our confinement.   We went to Tirtagangga (lunch inside the Water Palace is terriffic) and walked through the ricefields to Goa Gajah.   Mum loved the markets in Bugbug and Amlapura.   She and Nengah got on well, although neither could speak the other's language.

Pak Tena had asked that we elope a day earlier than planned, to give him time to inform all the relatives that we had run away together.   Kawin lari  (running away to get married) is a convenient way to "tie the knot" because it takes a lot of responsibility and expense away from the father of the bride (although it is supposed to be done in secret, and the father is supposed to be angry).

So for two days we were confined to Homestay Taruna (my "home") with nothing to do :)

Meanwhile preparations were in full swing.   Pak Mariatha had organised a small army of workers to get everything just right, and just in time.

This snake head, is part of an offering made from bits of pig meat as a sign of respect and thanks to the gods for their attendance at wedding.

On the morning of the 27th, I had only to bathe, eat, dress and wait.   Nengah was more busy, her costume and makeup being quite complex and time-consuming.

Mr and Mrs Mariatha had suggested that we rent costumes more special than we would have chosen ourselves, preferring quite simple clothing for, among other reasons, not being out of place when we went to Bugbug to continue the festivities.   But the Mariathas were being so kind to us, without expecting any payment, that we felt obliged to comply.   Looking back, we're glad we did.   It wasn't the grandest of gear, but it was pretty special.

Nengah's Uncle and Aunt, and my Mother with us before the wedding.	Once all were ready we went to the "reception centre", a covered area in what is usually the carpark for Homestay Taruna, where all the festivities would begin, as soon as the Pedanda (Balinese Hindu priest, of Brahmana caste) arrived.  He is a very famous Pedanda, and a nice man whom I had met a month earlier, to discuss the wedding.   Pak Mari had reconfirmed the arrangements with him a day or two before, so it would all be fine. . .		The Head of the Civil Registry before the service.
Pak and Bu Yoedarto, before our wedding	Wedding Gear.	Pak Mariatha explains that something, somehow, hasn't gone according to plan.	Young Dancers helped fill the time with some lovely movements.

Seven hours later the replacement Pedanda arrived.   I won't go much into the panic, desperation, tears and worry of the preceding hours, but it was not a comfortable time for anyone.   I think Pak Mari was more distraught than Nengah and me combined.   Nengah had to have her headdress deconstructed after a couple of hours because it was quite heavy and she was feeling ill.   Not the least of her worries was her father, who would be waiting for us with all the family and village dignitaries in Bugbug.

My childhood ceremonies. My tooth filing.

We were quickly underway.   First came the series of ceremonies to enable me to come of age according to the Bali Hindu religion.   There were the 12 day, 3 month, six month and finally tooth filing ceremonies. The last of these is to file down the tips of the upper canine teeth, symbolically reducing the "animal nature" of the person, and is the last ceremonial responsibility of a father to his children. It is possible and not uncommon for the pragmatic Balinese to have more than one ceremony at one time.   This can save money and, in the case of transmigrant families, means not having to come home at every turning point in a child's life.   I had all four at once, and had become Hindu in an afternoon.

Kawin Campuran.

Funny Face competition.

A keris is a dangerous thing when you're spinning around.

Sharing some food.

Mum signs the register.

The wedding ceremony itself was as confusing and overwhelming as the earlier part. . .   Nengah and I were led through a bewildering series of activities, including tearing the leafy bits of offerings, breaking an egg, turning around in circles, walking around, walking under a piece of string, carrying baskets filled with all sorts of treasures, and finally breaking the string (my job :) before returning to our "home" (bungalow #1).

After a few moments we returned to the reception area for the paperwork to be finalised.   The wonderful man from Catatan Sipil (civil registry) in Amlapura had waited all day, just so that we could get the official paperwork finalised with the least inconvenience.   We were/are very grateful to him.   We'll overlook the omission of my surname from the marriage certificates, that only happened because my birth certificate, from which they took my name has my father's name at the top, and my given names at the bottom.   Since Balinese and most other Indonesians do not take their last name from their fathers, there would have been no reason for them to suspect that I would do such an odd thing.   :)   It was fixed the next day.

Finally we reached Bugbug, where Nengah's Dad, Pak Tena, was waiting.   Luckily, such delays are not unheard of in Karangasem district, so the reaction wasn't as bad as it would've been in my town.

My grandmother-in-law, Ni Nengah Lipet Sampik was the most vocal in her good natured (?) disapproval of our lateness.

There were lots of speeches, the most memorable from the Kepala Desa (Mayor) of Bugbug, who explained that there were many stories about the suffering of Balinese woman who had married western men and found disaster waiting for them in a foreign land.   He hoped that I would not be that sort of a husband.   So do I.

Nengah and I had lots of things to keep us busy during the time left in Bali -- meeting relatives and friends took most of our time.   Commitment to family members is much stronger in Bali than in Australia, and it seemed we met, drank and ate with a huge number of people (can one woman be related to all these folk?).

	In Sydney, I showed Nengah around a bit, returning to many of the favourite places of my younger days.   The size and "beauty" of the city centre impressed her, but she seemed to take most of it for granted.
	My family and family friends were all very kind and welcoming.   One of the first things Nengah learned to say was "G'day, How you going?", which made everyone smile (basically the same response that I get when I use a bit of bahasa daerah (local language) in the places I visit in Indonesia.
Nengah at the southern edge of Australia.	After a week or so we headed for Perth, a journey of over 4,000km, in our wedding present from Dad and Mum, a 1984 Ford Laser.   My village girl from Bali was about to get an idea of the size and dryness of Australia.   Happily the car ran beautifully and we arrived home in Perth in 4 days.   "Berantakan, rumahmu!" (what a mess!) was Nengah's first comment (I'd spent the two weeks prior to leaving for Bali in a determined cleanup effort!!).   She's got me in order now though.   Mostly. ;-)

Nengah in "Kamar Berantakan".

Nengah in Perth.

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© steve.gill@rumah.iinet.net.au 20jun96

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