Wedding in Bali!

Tues, Jan 26, 2010
Today I was invited to a wedding! Like so many things in Bali, this was an impromptu invitation. Komang is a wonderful young Balinese boy (all of 19 years old) who works at the bungalows as a security person. I can't imagine how he could possibly protect property or person with his tiny frame and boyish grin, but he walks up and down the stairs past the 4 bungalows all through the night, keeping us tourists safe and secure. He also serves me breakfast each morning before he goes home for a sleep. So this morning he offered to take me to his friend's wedding. Keep in mind today is Tuesday....who gets married on a Tuesday? And the wedding starts at 10, I'm told. "I'd love to go, but will it be okay?" I ask. Komang laughs, "Of course okay! He will be happy you go to his wedding."
So the plan is secured: I dress as appropriately as I know how: sarong, sash and blouse. I organise to rent a motor scooter from Kadek; I go to Komang's house and have coffee while he and his wife get ready (yes, he is married and his wife is 4 1/2 months pregnant); Ketut, his wife, takes me inside and re-dresses me (I thought I looked good but they obviously thought otherwise); photos are taken, and then off we go!

I have only once before ridden a motor scooter and that was over 30 years ago in Barbado's. I took more risks then and had no fear of the what if's. You know, what if I fall off? What if a car hits me? What if I have to be taken to a hospital? Is there even a hospital close by? Will the insurance cover the costs? These are the things one contemplates after growing older and wiser. Yet for some reason I feel so free and fearless here in Bali! Yes, free and fearless, that's me. So, I throw caution to the wind, pull up my sarong to my crotch, hop on my scooter and fly off down the road, following close behind Komang and Ketut (K & K).

We arrive at the wedding 20 minutes later and the festivities have already begun. It has been raining so tarps are covering the compound and guests are sitting on bamboo bures, the men in one section singing and drinking Arak (the very potent local alcohol, tasting a bit like metho), the women in another section, laughing and chatting. Another group of women are making offerings and in a far corner I can see the food being prepared on open fires. I sit and smile and try to look like I'm having a good time. It's a bit awkward. I've never been to a wedding that I wasn't actually invited to.
They all seem happy that I am there. Some of the men take photos of me.I am a novelty to them. I ask Komang if it would be okay for me to take some photos. "Of course!" He assures me.So I walk arund, trying to be discreet, taking photos. When I get to the men's section, many of them, in their Arak induced merry state, summon me to point my camera in their direction, smiling and giving the V sign.
Lunch was a banquet of spicy dishes: pork, satay chicken on sticks, hibiscus flowers and other vegetables, and lovely looking pig intestines! We served ourselves on bamboo plates with brown paper and ate on our lap. It was like good Aussie BBQ! There was a lot of laughter and high energy and I enjoyed it very much.
In my next blog I'll continue the story because after the wedding, we headed off on a 1 1/2 hour scooter ride up into the hills to visit Ketut's Mother and Grandmother.