BALI, GOD'S OWN ISLAND

ISLAND OF THE GODS? Maybe so to those whose spirituality is encumbered by symbols. Yes, there are temples – pura, as the local lingo has it – galore. You cannot miss them they are everywhere. There are the private ones and there are communal ones. The family ones are for the nuclear and extended families. Those for the community, meanwhile, can be either local or desa and some are for everyone. The profusion is undeniable, but it’s not a case of familiarity breeding contempt. Most definitely NOT. They, it is, that make the magic; weave the splendour; and, mesmerize the beholder.

The pura is an edifice of immense beauty: of souls realized; spirits celebrated; and, godliness enshrined. In its pagoda-like, towering meru more than the descent of the gods is captured. Herein lies the veneration of man’s supplication to nature and all that is peaceful, tranquil and pristine. As its many tiered roof reaches out to the heavens the meru in its graceful exquisiteness captures best His grace. Simple and beautiful, its silhouette against the twilight sky mirrors a solitary enchantment at once serene and aloof while yet tender and embracing. In the brightness of day, its slender build notwithstanding, the meru stands regal and majestic. It, more than any edifice that is the pura, symbolizes the best in the interaction of man and his surroundings: renewable natural resources used to the greatest effect – the worship of the Divine. Divinely inspired, it is divinity incarnated. That the meru stands in the inner sanctum of the pura is then no accident.

This majesty, regal and never imperious is the embodiment of Divine nature. The loving and merciful Ida Sanghyang Widhi Wasa, the supreme godhead of ‘monotheistic’ Balinese Hinduism worshipped in the most beautiful way imaginable in human terms; in aesthetics of the most refined order. The Hindu temples of Bali do not dazzle; they are enchantingly hypnotic. They do not overwhelm; they comfortingly simple.

In Bali, aesthetics reaches out beyond the bricks and mortar, the wood and alang-alang of its brilliant architecture. No flawless thatched roof, no enchanting carving or perfect sculpture, no ethereal floating pavilions in exquisite landscapes can match the beauty of the Balinese person. Through their eyes and their smiles they bare their souls in a hospitality that is unmatched. Here in paradise there is neither master nor servant. There is here only God and man. Humanity is surrendered. Free will and predestination find an ingenious conciliation in the Balinese spirit. Strength and fortitude sits gentle on the Balinese breast, brow never furrowed with meaningless worry. Hukum karma cradles the Hindu Balinese and drives them always to move on and not dwell on past mishaps. For, in the perpetual motion of change lies existence, which is karma. After all, in the Hindu cosmic energy of birth, death and re-birth, there is an immanent renewal which is not just the preserve of the Hindu. In every individual, Hindu and others, one finds an immanence that promises final liberation from the endless cycle of rebirth and the ultimate attainment of being at one with God. Not being God, mind you, but being at peace with Him.

And so, it is no extraordinary feat and neither is it a defeatist fatalism that, logically, brings on the aside, “If not this life then the next”. It is this that informs the Balinese worldview; the peace with which its constituent member accepts any and all objective circumstance and gets on with it.

Now, in their getting on with it, the Balinese are ruled by the Hindu edict that holds every life dear. Not in a romantic fashion that has given birth to the contemporaneous vegan, the puritan vegetarian. In believing in their idea of the cycle of life there is no harm in making the Earth’s bounty a means to life and neither is there a notion of universal forgiveness that will make retribution impossible. To the Balinese the perpetrators of the 12 October 2002 bombing in Kuta deserve punishment. Not because they are extremists or Muslims but because they are criminals. And, as is the case with every crime the community of the criminals’ origin cannot be held accountable. Therefore, neither the Javanese nor the Muslims, from whence the Bali bombers hail, are resented.

Hence, Bali is synonymous with beauty in all its manifestations. There is beauty in the air filled with aromatic offerings to God; offerings of scented flowers in neat, small, coconut palm frond baskets woven by the women everyday as an expression of their dedication and love of the Divine. Here cleanliness is indeed next to godliness. With very rare exceptions, one almost never comes across uncollected garbage. The streets are swept clean and yet there is no sight of the municipal cleaners. It is the people; they keep their environment near sanitised.

Exotic is a term of insult when applied to Bali! Bali is beatific. If humanity is what it is meant to be, Bali should be the home that every soul knows exists and seeks. It is where every human spirit finds a home. Bali is where a person is at peace, serene and tranquil, earthbound and yet free-floating and light. It is hard to feel weighed down in Bali. Here one feels that the ethereal, that which is difficult to pin down like the slippery, contradictory monotheist concepts of freewill and predestination, is grasped. Here, the one is no longer at odds with the other. In Balinese Hinduism the two have become a complementary whole and thus a totality is fashioned. This same appears to be repeated over and over: paradoxes, the essence of being, is reconciled; and, historical dialectics are no longer the socio-political dynamics that drive human society to its future. There is a sense that the future flows naturally and smoothly from the past and that life is an organic whole, with each atom acting within its destiny to map anew another. The operative word here is “acting”; that of being an agent. Therefore, while surrender to the karmic law is inevitable life is never without purpose.

Here in paradise the other, an other, in fact, every other is without basis. Yes, there is good and evil trapped in an eternal battle as depicted in the Barong dance, which captivates the discerning audience into a trance-like adoration of its profundity, but good and evil is not translated in the elsewhere ubiquitous tendency of seeing these two life forces as embodied in ‘us’ and ‘them’. That the consequence of the latter perception is dire does not bear repeating. Suffice it to say that in Bali that perception has been almost successfully – if ever it existed – eliminated. Visitors coming prepared to embrace the terms of this weltanschauung will fall in love with life as they never could before.

It is only by respecting the warmth of the Balinese and not misinterpreting it as servitude to the tourist trade – undoubtedly the economic mainstay of the island – that a guest will learn of the effortlessness of the local welcome. One is at home, at ease and at peace with the elements and the people. Shame on those who have been to Bali and think that the friendship extended is contrived for economic benefits. The opposite is true: Bali is reaping the bountiful harvest of ‘past lives’ that have evolved into near perfection.

That near perfection is, in all probability, born of an annual ritualistic introspection known as Nyepi, which heralds the Balinese Saka New Year. This is a day of silence and meditation: no talking, no walking, no cooking. The nyepi ritual implies the recognition that good and evil exists within each one of us. Hence, life is the perennial battle which preserves the ascendance of good over evil within oneself: a good that has little use for deprecation, pontification and condescension; and, an evil that pegs itself on the ego. Success is the selfless self that finds expression in work. One must work. One must assist the desa pura to do its best by its congregation. One must have the means to ensure the wholesomeness of spirit, one’s own and that of those one is responsible for, from cradle to grave. No matter where one may be bodily, there is always someone at home making sure of the integrity of one’s spirit. And so, the Balinese is, spiritually at least, never not home.

It is, surely, this deep concern for the spirit that appears to sustain the Balinese soul. Take, for instance, ngaben. There is no mistaking the obligation on the living of cremating the earthly remains of their dead. And, in order to not economically cripple the bereaved the desa organizes, every few years, a communal cremation ceremony. The remains buried in the cemetery – always at the kelod or seaward end of the desa because the Balinese believe that the land becomes increasingly more impure the further it is from the mountains – is disinterred and ritually cremated in a mass ceremony so that the soul is released to be reincarnated in a newborn. The belief is, as it should be, that the dead ought to be on the funeral pyre as soon as possible so that he or she may quickly experience a re-birth. However, the rites of passage cannot be compromised. Hence, the communal ngaben, so that to each soul is accorded its every need.

Is this not then an expression of soul: of kin and community; of solidarity and empathy; of love and sympathy? And so, Bali is unique because she is God’s.

Picture: A pura on Nusa Dua beach, Bali.

WELCOME TO BANDUNG

THIS is strictly for the ladies. Sorry fellas, I don't think this is your cup of anything unless, of course, you have heard that Bandung is a city of beautiful women.

Us ladies are more into history and much more, especially the shopping, and some sights of course, if only not to appear too brain dead. But do forgive us women and please understand that "retail therapy" does contribute to the preservation of our sanity. You can't stand us when we are nervy. When we are that you think we are neurotic and quite certifiable. So, when we rave about the shopping don't judge us. Think of how beneficial it is in maintaining your tranquility, your serenity and your sanity too. In fact, you may think what you like as long as you do not begrudge us the simple pleasures of travel while shopping.

A friend has just returned from Bandung. By the way, she did not mention any of this but this is an Indonesian city only 2 hours south of the capital, Jakarta. It is not a financial centre but it is quite a money-spinner. The city has an industrial area stuffed with factories manufacturing all sorts of anything that will sell including the aircraft CN235. I kid you not. It is, therefore, a thriving manufacturing city. But that is not all. It is too quite a hotbed of opinions, polemics and the likes. Here the media is pulsing with activity. Here it is popular culture that dominates and here there are boutiques galore even in the most unexpected places. Imagine what it is like when you are in the high street. It is a shopper's paradise.

Girls, you go to Chiamplas to get all manner of "branded" jeans. Can you imagine a long road of little boutiques and shops of T-shirts and jeans and all manner of accesories that you may or may not need. In and out, from one shop to another. You do this until you drop because you are not only looking for the best fitting, you are scrambling for the best price and it does become dirt cheap if you have the energy. Try an Escada that is some RP60,000 a pair. That is just about US 6 dollars. Yes I do realise you can get clothes quite cheaply in the bargain basements of the stores in the US, but remember those are not branded. This is why, after all is said and done, few go away thinking that the city can be impossible to drive through. The good shopping more than makes up for what is a mere trifle of a problem. Your agitated state then was only a case of the jitters brought on by the fear that the traffic jam might become your nemesis in this greatest of challenges: to spend as little as possible for as much "of the best" as you can get.

Yes, indeed, there is more to this city than mere factory runoffs from many of the world's designer labels. This is a city with a renowned university, Padjajaran. Once upon a time, before the city played host to the modern economy it was a beautifully cool hill resort, urbane and dignified, and very much a favourite with the Dutch colonialists. And, before the toll road to Jakarta was opened to facilitate Bandung's hosting of the APEC Summit some 2 years back, Bandung was a good 4 hours away via the scenic route of Puncak Pass. The thick mist and cold of Puncak gave it an Alpine feel that makes the arduous journey seem very worthwhile.

For those who are intent on a National Geographic experience the volcano, Tangkuban Perahu, is but a few kilometers away. Just prior to the APEC summit it became active giving rise to speculations on whether it might not explode whilst the heads of governments were meeting. And, for Malaysians Bandung is but a short hop away from Kuala Lumpur by the now ubiquitous regional budget airlines Air Asia. My friend who just came back, she took a package with them and was in and out of the city, with the 2 empty suitcases she brought suitably jam packed, in just 2 days. Have a car waiting for you at the airport and the retail therapy's success far outstrips that of a roll in the hay!

And oh, I don't mean to make it seem unimportant, but I apologise profusely for quite forgetting the historical significance of this beautiful city. It is here that Soekarno, Indonesia's first president, declared the nation's independence from 350 years of Dutch rule. Here too, was where the first meeting of the non-aligned nations was held also during Soekarno's presidency. Voila, there you have it, an enchanting and extraordinary city.

Picture: Gedung Merdeka, Bandung city centre.

MURDER MOST FOUL

WAS IT A SHOCK? Most certainly and more. The news that an acquaintance is implicated in a horrifyingly gruesome murder of the most cynical calibre, the type seen mostly in horror movies, sent shivers down my spine and made my stomach turn. And, with former prime minister, Tun Mahathir, publicly lambasting the performance of his chosen successor, Abdullah Ahmad Badawi, it lent the troubled political climate an ominous twist. I feared for my country and probably so did the Tun who suffered a mild heart attack .

When last week, charged with aiding and abetting in the murder of a beautiful Mongolian model (for details go to http://the-malaysian.blogspot.com/2006/11/is-abdul-razak-baginda-political.html ) he was released on bail on medical grounds, one hoped that his state of health did really warrant such an act of mercy. But then again, a charged man is innocent until proven guilty and the onus is on the prosecution to prove his guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt. Not vice-versa. All the accused has to do under these circumstances is to produce a bond to the court the worth of which should be debilitating enough to discourage any thought of absconding. This, Abdul Razak Abdullah Baginda together with the support of his siblings, fulfilled to the satisfaction of the court.

No doubt this is a high profile case and public appetite is indeed whetted. Kuala Lumpur's rumour mill is running overtime with all manner of speculations and gossips that do not bear repeating here, or anywhere for that matter, for its possible litigious consequences.

What of Abdul Razak, the public persona? He has become high society with a nice home in a salubrious part of the capital. From a young, earnest, pleasant and cheerful academic he climbed up the ladder of generally received success to become a close aide of the present Deputy Prime Minister, having moved with the man through a couple of portfolios. Last I met him a few years back at one of the conferences his think-tank organised, Abdul Razak appeared to still possess the 'innocence' of his younger years -- which I pray has not translated into naivete with the years -- but looking tired and overworked, not that this stopped him from doing his job. He seemed to be a natural at networking. He even had time for a short chat with me. Is it any wonder then that he is, career-wise, where he is today, a high-flying intellectual once with his own talk show and newspaper column? He has done very well for himself and like the public I am left bewildered by the whole sorry episode. I can only reserve judgment on the matter and allow the courts to dutifully perform its function of upholding justice.

However, the truly distressing part of this real life whodunit, which has strangely not enraged too many Malaysians, media and masses both, is the involvement of serving police personnel reaching quite high up the managerial echelon. That this aspect of the case has not generated the same excitement speaks volumes of what the nation is on the road to becoming. Whichever way we wish to perceive of the matter it still is one of doom and gloom. If the perpetrators had been ex-police personnel, it would not have improved matters one iota. Of course, the Royal Commission report on the police was damning. Corruption, we were told, had crept into all levels of the police force. But this is no excuse for complacency. For every incident of possible misconduct and corruption there must be a huge public furore raised to keep the pressure on so that Malaysians may enjoy a predictable, safe and stable society, if not for now then for the future. (For a mainstream media take on the Royal Malaysian Police Force click http://thestar.com.my/columnists/story.asp?file=/columnists/2006/2/8/wongsulong/13330177&sec=Wong%20Su%20Long )

One last observation on the week that was. Lawyer for the defence and the famous attorney-cum-opposition politician Karpal Singh, who was there holding a watching brief for the victim's family, came out slugging, verbally, at each other. That added a farcical touch to an already surreal saga. Do we laugh or do we cry? You tell me, please.

(For those looking for a wicked laugh click http://malaysia-today.net/blog2006/holds.php?itemid=927 ).

Disclaimer: There is no malice intended in this final link. Its purpose is to bring joy to those who may visit with me and are without any idea that there is much mirth and methodical madness lurking in our midst. It is merely another element in this week's diary.

ON BEING MUSLIM AND WOMAN

You would be forgiven for thinking that Muslims are not as bad as they are made out to be by the Western media if you had based that judgment on what you see and know of me.

Nothing in my appearance, neither in public nor private, would give away my Muslim identity. To the average person I am just another Modern Millie in my jeans and T-shirt. When I open my mouth to speak you will become even more convinced that Islam is a perfectly reasonable religion if I am to be your idea of a Muslim. In my conduct you will find more reason to think that maybe it is Osama Bin Laden who is not a Muslim despite what everyone says. But, I assure you we both are. We sit at the two extremities of an Islamic spectrum. I am, to him, ultra modern and he is, to me, ultra conservative. Mind you, it would be a long shot indeed if the likes of Bin Laden would embrace me unconditionally as a co-religionist and fellow traveller.

Bin Laden, currently the icon of Islamic extremism, and his cohorts would have women such as I trussed up like a Christmas turkey and publicly shot in the head, as happened in Taliban-ruled Afghanistan, for the simple mistake of daring to be modern in a conservative Muslim environment. That is beyond doubt cruel in the extreme. And when widows and orphans were left to starve in their homes because women were banned from the public space where markets generally are, it became reason enough to justify the invasion of Afghanistan by the so-called international community spearheaded by the United States. (My female instincts tell me it was a necessary intervention to end a misogynistic policy that is potentially capable of genocidal consequences, but my political beliefs need assurances that this act of interfering in a nation's domestic affairs, no matter how divided that nation is, had not other motivations than humanitarian ones.)

But how have I and other like-minded Muslim women sinned against God or for that matter, the religion?

To the conservatives, and the extremists more so, a woman may not be allowed in public without being covered from top to toe in a way that does not flaunt the female form. That is a definite NO. Why? Because, according to them, just by her being woman she can give rise to fitnah. Maybe true in the Arabia of Prophet Mohammad saw's time where a slander against Aishah, his wife, prompted the revelation of verses 11-20 of surah 24 of the Quran. Is the same, however, true of the modern world or is it even true of primitive societies? Look at the vestiges of what was our ancient ancestors. Despite their nakedness, the social mores of native Amazonians are no less structured. The family unit does exist. If what some men want us to believe is true, that the female form can provoke the uncontrollable urges of a rampant male sexuality, then how come the father, mother, sons, daughters, cousins, aunts, uncles, grandfathers and grandmothers are distinct social identities amongst primitive peoples.

My problems as a Muslim woman living in an Islamic society that is willing itself into regression even as I write, has its roots here -- women's sexuality. This is my take on the problem. I believe this to be so because the mother-nurturer character of being woman is no adequate reason for gender segregation, the purda and, most importantly, a less than equal status. A woman's reproductive role both physical and social does not limit her to the four walls of her home, as is obvious in today's world of working mothers. And, I agree wholeheartedly when in her book "This Is How We Do It" Carol Evans argues that modernity has provided us with so many possibilities of personal and professional development and advancement that a mother's financial contribution has become essential if the average family unit is to progress. A mother's economic contribution would avail the children of a good education, health care, nutrition and such extras as horizon expanding experiences, which only money can buy in today's less than self-effacing capitalist world. When children succeed wouldn't the ultimate beneficiary be humanity in general?

It is not unreasonable when a dependent is treated unequally but with respect. Contemporary women though are never voluntarily dependent. The state of dependence is nowadays one of choice and is not gender specific. Therefore, gender inequality is simply, unjust. When this unequal human construct is camouflaged as divine injunction and practised absolutely rigidly, my life is turned into a living hell.

But as luck would have it my Malay, woman-friendly cultural heritage and my multi-religion country, Malaysia, provides a buffer against Islam's apparently many misogynists and allows me the democratic space that my non-Muslim countrywomen enjoy. Nevertheless, without a spirited wariness on the part of my Muslim sisters that space can be lost. Everyday somewhere in the country some right is being taken away from a Muslim woman. Then there are the unforgettable miseries of losing the simple right to self-affirmation as when overnight Muslim women were barred from participating in beauty pageants. Often we wake up to insults that injure our honour and dignity as happened when laws to protect women are allowed, by the powers-that-be, to be openly circumvented by polygamous men, for instance. The Islamic law courts, too, do little to enforce their own judgments vis-a-vis alimony and child support. The greatest injury of all to Muslims in general in this country is that when the Islamic law system fails them they have no recourse to justice because as precedents indicate, judges of the civil courts have little stomach to sit over disputes about the religion. Is it not unconstitutional to deprive a citizen of the law's protection?

Picture: The Atta'wan Mosque in Puncak, Indonesia, nestled among the mountains and the tea gardens.
Disclaimer: This is a distinctly personal perception not intended to offend anyone. If you have anything to add to enrich the writer's opinions please feel free to comment.