Nyepi, the Day of Silence

March 17 was Nyepi, celebrated by Balinese Hindus on the day before the New Year begins.  It is a day of fasting, meditation, and silence. Nyepi involves many rituals, traditions, and ceremonies, but I only had the opportunity to experience one of them (besides honouring the Day of Silence itself): the Ngrupuk parade. The evening before Nyepi, the Ngrupuk parade is held in every village across the island. Youth organizations (Seka Truna Truni) design and build giant demon dispalys, or “Ogoh-ogohs,” to parade around the village.

The Ogoh-Ogohs are inspired by Balinese Hindu mythological demonic beings, and are intricately made from coloured paper, mirrors, suede, tinsel, bamboo, and many other materials. The Ogoh-ogoh stands on a pad built of bamboo, which is lifted and carried around the village by ten or more youth (and adult men), accompanied by a loud and percussive gamelan orchestra.

I went to the Ngrupuk parade in Sanur with a few friends. This is not like the Santa Claus parade you might be imagining; there are no barriers keeping people on the sidewalk, no strict spacing between performers, and the first Ogoh-ogoh appeared over two hours after the posted start time. When it began, thousands of people immediately swarmed the entire intersection, bustling to get a glimpse of the Ogoh-ogohs. The massive mob ebbed and flowed as the cops and military whistled and gestured for people to create haphazard pathways as necessary (though sometimes people just ran away from the ginormous Ogoh-ogohs as they pummeled into the crowd).

Waiting for the show to start

The Ogoh-ogohs were a phenomenal sight to behold, though – they were worth the wait and sweat and jostling. I’d seen a few of them appear on the side of the road over the last few weeks, as the finishing touches were being added. My friend told me that they are supposed to be burned after the parade, but often the Banjars hesitate to do so. Considering how much work it is to build an Ogoh-ogoh, I can understand the hesitation with burning or destroying it! And they are HUGE. So big that the groups carrying them were accompanied by men with long poles who would push up the power lines to prevent the Ogoh-ogohs from getting clipped as they progressed along the street.

This Ogoh-ogoh was GINORMOUS. It was probably ten metres wide and thirty metres long. It took up two lanes of traffic!

Many of the ogoh ogohs have breasts, and we wondered what that was about… 

Yes, this is a lady grabbing a man by the balls. No, I don't know the story...

Here's another angle so you can see this unfortunate fellow's facial expression (and the lady's). 

Demon devouring someone...

Some of them were just genuinely terrifying. Note the skeleton demons rising from below this frightening demon...

At the end of the parade I was finally able to get a clear picture of the base of an Ogoh-ogoh, and the kids carrying it

During the procession, the Ogoh-ogoh is hoisted above the crowds and rotated counter-clockwise three times as the gamelan orchestra plays loudly. This act is done at every T-junction and crossroad of the village. Rotating the effigies represents the contact of the bodies with the spirits. It is intended to bewilder the evil spirits so that they go away and cease harming human beings. Eventually, the Ogoh-ogoh is toppled in defeat and finally it is burnt to ashes in a cemetery as a symbol of self-purification.

It was one of those nights when you wish you could be in multiple places at once – at different locations there were different displays of Ogoh-ogohs, different rituals, dancing, and other ceremonies. But I was limited to one intersection in Sanur, where I spent four hours waiting for the parade and then watching the Ogoh-ogohs. It was still worth it though!

From 6am on Saturday until 6am on Sunday, Bali essentially appears deserted. No one is allowed on the streets, beaches, or outside of their houses… there is no traffic and nothing is open, including the airport (apparently Ngurah Rai is the only international airport that shuts down operations for a day each year). The religious leaders have so much power that even the internet was blocked this year.

Devout Balinese Hindus do not eat, use electricity, or speak during Nyepi - these would distract from self-reflection. Other people, however, just stay within their property and have a relatively quiet day. I fell into that category (although I did briefly entertain the idea of attempting to fast, but this is me we’re talking about, and the idea of me not eating even for a few hours is a ridiculous notion). After a long sleep in (a rarity for me here in Bali), I cleaned up my house, knocked a few things off of my ‘to do’ list (not having internet is productive!), lounged by the pool with the other people living in my complex, stargazed (no lights on the whole island = amazing stars!) and had a nice early bedtime.

Selamat Hari Raya Nyepi!

Back in Bali

Holy moly it’s March. When did that happen?

I meant to write a few posts in January in February, but the time ran away from me, so here are a few general updates:

1. It rained. A LOT. 
2. I didn’t travel at all for work, which was a huge change from the fall when I was on a plane almost every week. I got into a routine of office monotony.
3. I spent every weekend pursuing my Divemaster certification. I’ll eventually write a proper post all about my dive adventures!
4. I went home to Canada from February 14 – March 4!

I was so excited to fly home and see family and friends that I started counting down from January 1st (six weeks before I actually left), and I started packing my bags ten days before my flight. I can’t remember the last time I packed more than a day or two in advance of a trip (even when I’ve moved across the country!). Clearly, I was really looking forward to being back in Canada!

My other stints working and studying abroad were limited to 5-6 months, so this was the first time I’d visited home briefly and then left again… and I wasn’t expecting how fascinating an experience it would be to return to a [temporary] home abroad. I was bracing myself for all of the things that can make life in Indonesia a bit overwhelming – the heat and humidity, being harassed by taxi drivers, the frustrating disorganization of travel, the unexplained extra fees, etc… but I found myself slipping back into my comfort zone much more quickly than I’d expected. After all, I’d been living here for sixth months already, hadn’t I?

It has been a curious few days since I’ve been back, and I still can’t quite place my finger on the feeling in order to describe it well. It’s not like coming home – Canada will always be home – but maybe it’s sort of like putting on familiar summer clothes that have been stored in a closet all winter.

The smells seem so vivid yet familiar – Bali really does have a very noticeable scent that seemed particularly palpable after breathing fresh mountain air for two and a half weeks. I’m not sure whether it’s the incense from the offerings, pollution from cars and motorbikes, food being fried in roadside stalls, the heavy perfume of tropical flowers, or all of these odours combined; but I was definitely more aware of it than when I’d left!

Hopping back on my motorbike was as easy as walking, and driving on the left hand side felt natural [and I had a punctured tube within days].

Soon I was using my limited bits of Bahasa Indonesia (the nation-wide language) to communicate and order my favourite treats [and of course, back to my regular bouts of Bali belly].

Digestive issues are not pretty so here's a stormy sky as a metaphor.

I was back walking along beautiful stretches of the beach, watching brilliant sunsets unfold [while miserably picking at the piles of garbage washed up onshore].

All the ups and downs of life in Indonesia, every single day.

It’s good (and a bit weird!) to be back.