Holidays!!!!!

I started to write earlier, but I think that it got erased by one of the approximately a billion children that hung out in my room today. This is disturbing mostly because I thought I was watching them better than that, but I guess I prefer rewriting a blog post to the part where I was cleaning chocolate out of the keyboard (I like children, but do they have to be so sticky?) I’m going to try to start at the beginning, but I apologize if I get out of order.
At the end of Ramadan, Muslims celebrate with a day called Idul Fitri (I think Eid Al Fitri in places that aren’t Indonesia) On this day, families gather from however far away. In the morning there are special prayers, and then the families and go around visiting neighbors and other relatives apologizing for bad things they have done that previous year.
Of course many delicious snacks are also involved.
I had decided to spend the holiday in Malang this year (I stayed at site last year) so accordingly, two days before the holiday I headed to Malang with my friends to stay with my first host family.
It is always wonderful to go back to Malang- everything is so relaxed and welcoming that I feel like I fall right in to the pattern of things. I fasted the day I got there, and the day after, so on the evening of that second day I was really excited that the next day I’d get to eat! We spent that second day cooking. I didn’t watch them kill the chicken, but I sat through the rest of the preparation and surprised myself by being a lot less squeamish than I thought I was. I always knew the chickens in the yard somehow turned into the delicious chicken on the table- it was actually kind of interesting to see how it was prepared and the amount of work that went into it. It’s a bit sad on reflection that I am so proud of myself for watching (and fetching bowls when required) while my 12 year old host-sister was actually ripping out bits of chicken. (Thought I was going to say that it was sad about the chickens? Nope. They had good free range lives, quick deaths, and tasted delicious).
We (mostly my host mother and her sister-in-law, but I was there!) prepared a ton of food in preparation for the next day, but then all plans got put on hold.
What I didn’t realize was that different Muslim denominations (right word?) calculate the month of Ramadan differently. People had mentioned to me before that the dates of Ramadan could change, but I thought that was hypothetical (the movement of the moon and stars being predictable last I heard, I don’t really understand) so I was fairly shocked when my host father in Malang seriously mentioned the possibility of the holiday being moved.
As the evening went on we watched on the news as religious authorities from various parts of the country weighed in on whether or not Indonesian Muslims would celebrate on the 30th or the 31st. The debate was long and intense. My host family in Malang watched, but since they are a different denomination (sorry, I don’t know the right word) the day that they would celebrate was already said. In the words of my host father “We count” whereas everyone else was talking about the visibility of Venus and the Sun and the Moon and many other things that they are experts on and I am not.
So. The end result was that after much discussion, the Indonesian department of religion concluded that by their method of determination, the holiday must be celebrated on the 31st and not the 30th.
Thaaat made things a little awkward. In my host family, the immediate family followed that ruling. This meant that we went to the University for prayers and to eat together. For the prayers, hundreds of people separated by men and women, gathered outside with their prayer carpets (and for the women their special white prayer coverings, often decorated with gorgeous colored embroidery) and in unison went through the ritual of praying while bowing themselves multiple times in the direction of Mecca. It is not my religion or my belief, but it was special to watch nonetheless. To me, as I see it, the humility of all of those people earnestly and in all humility bowing themselves before God is lovely.
After the prayers there was a short sermon (right word?) I listened a bit (there was talk of tolerance, and about avoiding sin) but for the most part I watched small children in their fancy holiday outfits running around together on the grass off to the side while their parents listened to the Imam. It reminded me a bit of the scene outside of a church after and Easter Sunday service, when all of the children are dressed in their best clothes and still rolling around in the grass: pretty cute.
After the service (?) we all went inside and ate together (well, most of us did) some people, including the more distant relatives of my host family who live next-door, continued to fast. I thought that this was awkward, but no one else seemed to have any problems. Even back at the house when fasting relatives (grandfather, grandmother, aunt, etc…) walked through the house while we were eating, everyone seemed to accept it for what it was, a difference of opinion. I was impressed: very impressed.
The acceptance that differences of opinion do occur even though everyone is trying their best, and the no one needs to be vilified over it, is something that we could perhaps all learn from. We may disagree that with someone’s conclusion, but that is no reason to malign their character or commitment. Right?…
Well. We knew that my host family at site would be celebrating the 31st (like the majority here) so I decided to take advantage of this split to celebrate the holiday with both of my host families and hopped a bus back to site. I really enjoy the reliable public transportation in this country! Maybe it’s just because I grew up in rural Texas, but the notion that there is a relatively inexpensive bus that comes by regularly and will take me wherever I want to go just makes me want to clap my hands.
I dozed off on the bus (I have pretty much quit fighting that. I just make sure I’m sleeping on my bag) and the conductor woke me up shortly before my stop.
I had an awkward two miles on a bicycle in a long skirt (It seems that I will just never learn to dress properly for the occasion) and then arrived at a home made… lively… by the arrival of three of my host mother’s six children and their numerous offspring. Since this was the REAL last day (so I was assured) the children, including the six year old who doesn’t usually fast, were trying to fast through the day. They were, to say the least, a bit lethargic. Fortunately my arrival meant that they could get their hands on their favorite toy: my keyboard. We spent the hour and a half till time to eat playing twinkle twinkle little star with different sound effects (I never knew my keyboard had a setting where every note is the sound of a different gunshot…also, should twinkle twinkle be played with gunshot sound effects?) and drawing together with markers from America. I think the time went by fast (of course, I wasn’t fasting, so…)
Around 5:30 we all got to eat, and I made a major effort and spent the full 3 hours before I went to bed out socializing. Whenever I was left to my own devices and didn’t know what to do, rather than retreat into my room I looked for someone else to talk to. There were fireworks and an impromptu parade involving what must have been half of the village on their motorcycles, and then, when the fireworks ran out, one of the men started setting various things on fire in the driveway which seemed to amuse the children nearly as much.
Fast forward to this morning- I got up early so I wouldn’t miss anything, but I still didn’t see people leave for prayers. There were quite a few people in my house who I don’t think went though. A fourth child of my host-mother arrived with her husband and three children. Everyone got dressed up in their nicest clothes and then we assembled in the hallway to formally apologize to each other for the past year. This wasn’t just saying the words either- it really seemed like everyone meant it. There were tears, more hugging than I usually see in a year in Indonesia, and then we took pictures together. My host mother made sure that I was included in everything which was really sweet of her.
After the apologies to the immediate family we all piled into two cars (should not EVEN have been possible. There were between 11 and 13 children and 8 adults counting me) and drove about 200 meters to the homes of all of the oldest relatives. My host-mother’s daughter put my jilbab (head scarf) on for me, and she wrapped it in a loose way that felt much better to me than the firmly swathed way I usually wear it. Later it was shifting so my host mother pinned it more securely (It was pretty funny when she tried to reach the top of my head: sitting was necessary )
I was glad to notice that the past year has pretty much rid me of my instinctive recoil from saleeming: at least as far as older people are concerned. When I first arrived here it just seemed so strange to me that it was hard to do it- now, after being here for a year and often seeing everyone touch other peoples’ hands to their faces to show both respect and affection, I’m pretty thoroughly onboard. I did have a bad moment when I wondered if all the hand touching my face would make me break out, but I got over it.
We then drove to many places farther away and visited many people who were familiar from last year. Finally we came back (how I ended up in the car with 6 children and only 2 other adults is beyond me) and the kids mostly hung out in my room (It’s not me, it’s the a keyboard, the crayons, and the Naruto videos…). The rest of the day (what little was left) various visitors dropped in. My room remained the retreat for kids which was fine with me- I mostly gave them things to do and then, while they played, I read though at one point some of us figured out how to play Sudoku together. A couple of times the parents of the children came by and asked if I needed to sleep, but really I enjoyed the company. They all headed out by early evening and this village starts to shut down by 7:30 so at that point I could take a break. By take a break I mean bathe, eat, and write this 
I am wiped out! Going to bed and I’ll try to post this tomorrow if my internet works!
~E

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