Death
And Cremation
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.
The cremation tower is a high structure solidly built of wood
and bamboo, bound together with rattan and covered with Coloured
paper ornaments and cotton-wool dyed in bright colours, and
glittering with tinsel and small mirrors. Shaped like the
temple gates and the sun altars, the tower represents again
the Balinese conception of the cosmos: a wide base, often
in the shape of a turtle with two serpents entwined around
its body, the symbol of the foundation, upon which the world
rests, supporting three gradually receding platforms -the
mountains, with bunches of paper flowers and leaves on the
corner of each platform to represent the forests. Then comes
an open space, the bale balean, " rather like a house,"
the space between heaven and earth. This consists of four
posts backed with a board on one side, and with a protruding
platform to which the bodies are fastened. The bale balean
is topped by a series of receding roofs like a pagoda to represent
the heavens. These are always in odd numbers which vary according
to the caste of the family: one for Sudras, from three to
eleven for the aristocracy, and none for the Brahmanic priests.
The back of the tower is nearly covered with a gigantic bead
of Bhoma, the Son of the Earth, a wild-eyed, fanged monster
with enormous outstretched wings, that spread some ten feet
on each side of the tower. This mask and the wings are covered
with bright-coloured cotton-wool. As many as seventy-five
men are often required to carry the great tower and its complementary
bridge, a tall bamboo runway by which the upper stages of
the tower are reached. Strict caste rules also dictate the
shape of the patulangan, the sarcophagi: Sudras are entitled
only to burn their dead in open cases shaped like a gadjamina,
a fantastic -animal, half el6pbant, half fish. Today the majority
of the nobility use the bull for men and the cow for women,
animals supposedly once reserved -for Brahmanas; Satrias were
entitled only to a singha, a winged lion; and Wesias used
the deer. Towers and coffins are not made by ordinary villagers
but by artist specialists who are directed by a master craftsman.
The cows are splendidly carved out of wood, the hollow body
hewn out of a tree-trunk, the back of which opens like a lid.
The whole animal is covered with coloured,felt or velvet,
lavishly ornamented with goldleaf, cotton-wool, and silk scarfs.
Caste again decides whether the animal should be black, white,
spotted, yellow, orange, or purple. With true Balinese playfulness,
their sexual organs are clearly defined and those of bulls
often are made so that they can be put into action by means
of a bidden string.
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.