Galungan Day

It felt very special to be in the only place on the planet where the huge ceremony of Galungan was being celebrated today. Although Bali is a Hindu culture, this festival is not part of the worship of Indian followers of the faith. It is the biggest day on the calendar, and the streets had a distinct holiday lull about them.

We had been watching the preparations over the past few days, particularly the vast number of offerings being prepared and the lavish decoration of family and village temples. Yesterday afternoon we went on a penjor-spotting drive. While some were in the late stages of preparation, most were fully decorated, with narrow village streets transformed by the swaying poles. Each seemed subtly different from its neighbour, and we were told today that although the symbolism remains constant, different villages have different styles of decoration, although our eyes are not yet keen enough to pick this.

The penjor is a symbol of victory against evil spirits and must contain agricultural products such are used in daily life. Thus you will find rice and vegetables featuring on each penjor in some capacity while the swaying, bowing upper section denotes respect and acknowledgement of the gods. This tradition has been going on for centuries and its elements are passed through the generations so that it can never be forgotten. The Balinese social structure of village temple and banjar ensures that everyone complies with these demanding, and expensive, spiritual obligations. Not that you will ever hear a Balinese person grumble about their religious duty.

Today was the main event, (and Galungan is always a Wednesday) but Monday, Peyajaan Galungan, was the day of baking special cakes (jaja) to be used in the offerings. On Tuesday (Penampahan Galungan), as well as the erection of the penjors, animals such as pigs and chickens are sacrificed and offered in order to erase negativity in both the personal and broader environment. Although I confess to feeling squeamish at the notion of animal sacrifice, I reminded myself that we do it too for major festivals (turkey for Thanksgiving or Christmas, anyone?) but in a way that is so sanitised and removed from our daily reality we scarcely give it a thought. There's no avoiding the reality here, and there is no waste as the village shares the meat and dishes served today, such as lawar, babi guling and sate are the result.

Dressed in our finery we were honoured to enjoy a meal today at our friends' compound and left with a packet of cakes and fruits from the offerings in the temple.

The streets of Ubud, and all over Bali, tonight reverberated to the sounds of drums and gongs as the Barong, symbol of good, led processions of young and old, marking the end of an important family day.

Between now and Kuningan, in ten days' time, there will be further ceremony and worship, but with less intensity until Kuningan day itself, which we won't be here to see.

 Only three more sleeps left for this trip. Where have the months gone?