A Morning in the life of me in the village.
I wake to the sound of a rooster, and the breeze moves slowly.
The family are already awake and it is barely day light.
Muffled voices, motorbikes come and go. The morning trip to the market to get the daily food and offerings. The sound of sweeping, a makeshift reed broom sweeps up yesterday’s offerings and lost frangipani flowers.
The children bustle about getting ready for an early start to school 7.30am.
Bapak, the family patriarch, sits serenely in the corner of the compound, casting a wise eye over the daily rituals.
It’s too noisy, time for coffee, to wake up.
"Selamat pagii Mbok" (good morning, sister) "Anda lapar , bagustidur?" (You hungry? good sleep?)
she says.
"Saya perlu kopi sekerang” (I need coffee now).
Everybody laughs, they all know my ritual.
Once some of the sweet, black, gritty coffee has been drunk, I’m awake enough to seriously take in my surroundings.
The warm, morning light baths the orchids, the quiet shrill of the family pigeons, housed under the verandahs.
The cloud from the burning rubbish, from the pyres beside the river, engulfs the yard, everyone ignores it.
Delicious smells are coming from the kitchen.
The days food is being cooked and served in bowls on the bench. Covered up, and to be eaten whenever the family are hungry, no formal mealtimes or rituals here. Today’s bowls contain hard boiled eggs, tuna with tomato and garlic, tempeh goreng (deep fried tempeh with chilli), and plecing (water spinach cooked with chilli and garlic).
Last but not least, the rice cooker is always hot with buckets of rice ready to go. All Indonesians eat a lot of rice every day, they say you have not eaten, unless you have eaten rice.
Everyone eats with their fingers, delicately scooping up the food and placing it in their mouth, eating in silence and quickly. I try but fail at being delicate, with food falling all over my clothes and on the floor. Everyone laughs.
By this time the children have left for school, looking neat and tidy in their uniforms, matching bow ties and school shoes and socks. The day’s activities have started, people are leaving for work, and offerings are being prepared and placed around the compound.
Over 100 offerings a day in all: north, south, east, and west areas of the compound. Simple delicate, banana leaf with yellow rice and coconut offerings, or small banana leaf trays of flowers and food.
My friend showers and brushes her hair and wears a sarong and sash for this vital two times a day task. Placing a lighted incense stick with a prayer and finalised with a sprinkle of holy waters, the offering is placed.
All is right and balanced with this and the gods are placated and the black and white energies are kept in check for the family and their home.
This is to be done every day, sometimes more than twice and sometimes the offerings are bigger and more extravagant, depending on the auspicious occasion being honoured.
The sun by now is moving over head. All is right at home and it is time to leave the house for the day.
A quick refreshing mandi (a wash with a pale and a bucket of cold water) and we are off on the motorbike to do our daily chores before it gets too hot.
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