Off on my own!

Now I am off on my own and the world is my own! After all I can speak the language. Waiting in market for bemo to leave. It is a new car with all the techno gizzies. Music beats along “Ice Baby” playing in Reggae style. People ask me the meaning of these words. It is quite a contrast to the soft sounds the gamelan rolling in the mist and hills of years ago.

At a “house ceremony” dancers in their elaborate yellow and red beaded ikat costumes, dance in little steps round and round, repeatedly. Their beaded dresses were a blend of Indian beading motifs. The sun makes them perspire through their heavy makeup. Little girls just as heavily ornamented join in. On the scaffolds, they very generously serve me lunch of dog meat but I pretend to take a nibble. Little girl explains the men will do the “men” dance soon but it seems to last forever as the participants shriek and more intensely.

After the ceremony I walk down the road for miles through hillsides, forest, and rocks. People summon me into their homes. They are very proud of their traditional houses. One house has 50 slewn buffalo horns hammered up on a tall mast in front. Man with pink ice cream cones in cart. Man drives by with a full truck of dancers. They have SUV’s rented for the ceremony. Such a contrast to primeval environment I decide to wait by the river for the bus. Giant satellites in front of shack homes. A huge river tumbles by me. Private cars pick up passengers like a bus service.