Strike a chord

I’m tone deaf. Don’t care much about music anyway. But gamelan music, all that complete cacophony, somehow strikes a chord with me. I even enjoy listening to young men study and practice in the temples in Bali. These pictures, however, were taken in the royal palace in Yogyakarta.

I remember it was fascinating to find bits and pieces of the erstwhile Hindu kingdom in Java – not just the temple ruins, but the shadow puppets with their deep symbolism, and the music that goes with it.

The Ramayana epics are still widely performed in festivals and temples across the now-Buddhist nations, but I was surprised to find it in the palace of the Muslim ruling family in Yogyakarta.

There are many workshops around the palace, hand-crafting puppets from buffalo hide, using natural dyes, and the craftsmen who show visitors around didn’t even understand my question regarding a potential conflict with their faith. It’s our culture, they would say.

And then go on explaining the details about Shiva and Vishnu, and their favourite story, the relationship between Rama and Sita. This seems to be a famous scene but I can’t find the meaning 😦

I wish I knew more, I only remember snippets. Gold is dignity. Red is anger. Vishnu (below) is black. Evil characters have bigger noses. Virtuous characters have slit eyes. The round behinds represent earthly desires and connections to mundane ideas, the head is about intellectual and spiritual powers.

Oops, this was supposed to be about music, wasn’t it? But can’t you hear the gamelan orchestra in the background? I certainly do.

The image in the header happens to be from the royal wedding in Ubud, Bali.

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Going in circles

 

Just because I cannot climb that mountain, it doesn’t mean my spirit is stuck forever at the bottom, too.

 

Considering it’s one of the biggest Buddhist pagodas in the world, and one of the most visited monuments in Indonesia, it is surprisingly easy to have this picture book all to yourself. Just wait until those groups float through in half an hour.

 

There is a way to circle and twirl your way up. Look at the stories as the rising sun strikes them and the figures come alive. Recognise some. Make your own for the others. And then when it gets too much, go into floating mode, almost definitely missing the one you were meant to see and get touched by.

 

 Scavenge bits and pieces of ancient legends and beliefs for your own purposes, pick and choose, you may say. Don’t we all do the same all the time anyway, living here in Asia long term. No ready-made answers, you need to take the puzzle pieces and reconstruct what makes sense for your heart. Make your own vows and promises and don’t take them from a book.

February full moon, today it’s about callings. Do I listen at all, or do I tend to brush them aside, trying to convince myself it is actually possible to hide. Take a seemingly easier path, or an overgrown, adventurous one. Get distracted by glitz and glitter, well, my versions of it, or do what I should have been trying to do all along. What can be collateral damage in the process, and what definitely should not be tossed aside. I’ve been going in circles year after year, but not quite the same circles, I might get somewhere eventually, like circling my way up to the top of the pagoda. At least I am having the illusion it’s uphill. In the end, maybe doesn’t even matter. 

 

On this day, there is that closure of glancing at what is awaiting at the top. So, what is the calling, was it clearly heard, or have I made my own little voices in my head.