Sunny and bright, sunlight cast four rectangles, tall and thin, on the wall beside Susi's bed. She raised an arm and craned her hand. Her fingers wrinkled as her hand created a swan, graceful and slender. She moved her hand back and forth, forming a neck, beak, and head.
"What are you doing?" asked Reine.
"Playing shadow puppets," replied Susi.
Reine slid into bed beside her cousin and reached into the air with both arms. A golden eagle formed in her two hands, flying back and forth along the wall beside the swan. They continued playing until Reema interrupted them.
"Breakfast is ready."
The girls rushed downstairs, still in their pajamas. Reine's mother sat next to Mrs. Urwani at the dining room table, sipping tea.
"Good morning, Aunt Dona. I didn't expect to see you," said Susi.
"I'm taking you to Wayang Klitik," she replied.
"I thought Yudhi was taking us."
"He has to work today."
"I guess that explains it," said Susi.
Mrs. Urwani had cooked sweet rice and baked fish. The girls quickly cleaned their plates and rushed back upstairs to change. They returned to the dining room, wearing long dresses. Reema and Susi also wore headscarves, called an al-amira.
Reema was wearing her traditional Muslim dress, too.
"You girls look so beautiful,” said Mrs. Urwani, “Do you have everything?"
"Almost," said Reema as she gathered the musical instruments from the closet. She grabbed Susi's angklung, a hand-held bamboo instrument. She picked up two cymbals, called ceng-ceng for the sound they made, and gave them to Reine.
"Hold these, please."
Reema pulled out the jegong, a long wooden marimba played with leather mallets.
The girls loaded into Aunt Dona's car, instruments and all. As Aunt Dona drove down the alley, Susi leaned out the window and called to Yudhi. He looked up from his work and waved back.
When they arrived at the performing arts center, people waited outside. We have to go backstage," announced Reema.
"Am I going to play, too?" asked Reine.
"No," said Reema, "you don't know the songs."
Reema and Susi went backstage while Reine and Aunt Dona waited outside.
Other performers waited backstage, too. The percussion orchestra (known as a gamelan) was entirely composed of school girls, clad in full-length dresses.
Older men waited backstage with their shadow puppets. Instead of hands, they would be using carved wooden characters with sticks to work the arms, legs, and torso.
Crowds filtered into the auditorium and took their seats. The audience clapped as a lady commentator walked out to center stage.
"Good morning, everyone. I'd like to welcome you to our presentation of 'Vana Parva' - the book of the forest."
"I know this," Reine whispered to her mother.
The Vana Parva was a famous epic story among Hindus.
"Before we begin our play," said the announcer, "Let's give a round of applause for the ladies of our gamelan."
Girls marched out in a single file, some with instruments, some without. The first row featured the percussionists. Susi knelt on the floor with a small group of angklung players. Reema and another girl placed their jegong on the floor and sat beside them. Four more girls knelt behind the reyong.
The reyong was one of Indonesia's own musical instruments. It was a row of small copper bowls of different sizes, all covered with lids. The reyong players used fat dowels made of ivory to strike the copper pots.
"And now our puppeteers," said the announcer.
The puppeteers paraded along the front of the stage, holding their puppets overhead. They circled behind a white cotton screen sitting in the middle of the stage.
The auditorium went dark and three oil lamps were lit behind the screen. The shadows of the puppeteers were cast upon the screen. As the puppeteers took their seats, their shadows sank to the bottom edge of the screen.
As the oil lamps flickered, they threw irregular shapes on the cotton screen. The gamelan began playing and the puppeteers set the scenery. First, mountains erupted from the bottom of the screen. Then, trees danced into place, shimmering upon the cotton screen.
A man on a horse-drawn chariot rode into the scene. This was rather complicated, as three puppeteers worked in unison, galloping the horse, turning the chariot wheels, and moving the charioteer's whip.
"There was a prince who lived in the hills of India," said the announcer, "One day as he took his carriage into the deep, dark forest, he came upon a river."
Puppeteers ruffled a cotton sheet behind the scenes, creating a raging river.
"Appearing at the river's edge was a lovely woman. The prince rode his chariot to the edge of the river and asked the woman if she would become his wife.
She said: 'I will become your wife if you promise me one thing.'"
"Anything you wish," said the Prince.
"Allow me free will and do not question my actions."
"I will if you go with me to my palace."
The puppeteers trotted the chariot over the hill. Then, the trees danced away, followed by the mountains disappearing at the bottom edge of the screen.
The puppeteers rebuilt the scenery. A palace stood at one side of the screen and a grove of trees stood at the other. The prince and princess stood side-by-side. The princess was pregnant.
Soon, she had a son. She rode with the child to the river. When she returned, there was no son.
"Where is our child?" asked the Prince.
"Dear husband, I asked you not to question my motives," said the princess, "I took your son to the river because I knew he was actually a beast, cursed by great spirits to walk the earth. I knew, surely, he would grow strong and angry, and attempt to destroy you. That is why I drowned him in the mighty river."
"Princess, I had no idea you were trying to protect me."
"It is too late now," she said, "Since you did not believe me, I must leave you."
"The prince thought and thought," said the announcer, "and finally took the chariot to the river, attempting to find the princess. Instead, a mighty beast jumped out of the river."
The audience jumped as the large demon erupted from the waves. Clanging gongs, rattling bamboo, and pounding metallophones sounded furiously as the puppeteers fought the prince against the beast. Their arms clicked as the two puppets fought.
After a long battle, the prince slayed the beast.
The announcer came out and spoke, "The princess returned to the palace and lived with the prince happily ever after."
The audience cheered as the players came out and took their bows. Even Susi and Reema took their turn. Reine and Aunt Dona clapped loudest for the two cousins.
After the show, the girls met up with Aunt Dona and Reine.
"Girls, I have bad news. I have to return to Jakarta, so I cannot take you home."
"Then how will we get home?" asked Reine.
"We're taking a becak," said Reema.
"How can we make all these instruments fit into the back of a becack?”
“Look around. Some becaks have extra space in the back," said Reema.
The popular motorized tricycles called becaks did come in all shapes and sizes. Most had a large rectangular compartment on the back. Riders got in the back while the becak driver rode in a separate seat up front.
"It looks like Reema has all the answers,” said Aunt Dona.
“We’ll be fine,” replied Reema.
“Okay, good-bye, girls...and good luck," said Aunt Dona.
Aunt Dona hugged the girls and gave Reema several Rupiah notes to pay the becak driver. Vehicles of all types buzzed along the street in front of the auditorium, including the three-wheeled taxis called becaks. Reema hailed a passing becak and proceeded to get inside.
"You pay for instruments," said the becak driver.
"We will not," said Reema.
"Then no ride."
"That's fine. There are becak drivers all around us."
The driver looked over his shoulder and then motioned to the girls.
"Nothing extra for the instruments?"
"Instruments free."
The girls squished into the back of the becak, holding the Jegong across their laps. As they rode through downtown Yogyakarta, the sky changed from light to dark. A cloud of ash loomed overhead. As they entered the Kraton, pumice covered the streets.
"Not again," said Reine.
The girls held their headscarves over their faces. When the becak stopped at the end of the alley, the girls unloaded their gear and ran toward the house.
"Hurry up girls," said Mr. Urwani as he waited on the front porch.
They rushed inside.
Mrs. Urwani was on the phone as the girls came into the house.
"I was so worried about you," said Mrs. Urwani,
"We're okay now," said Reema.
"Reine, it's your mother. Do you want to talk to her?"
Reine nodded.
"Yes, mommy, I'm fine."
Reine listened as her mother gave her a list of instructions.
"Okay, I will," replied Reine.
"I love you, too. Good bye mommy."
Reine hung up the phone and stood in front of Mrs. Urwani.
"What's wrong, Reine?"
"My mother said I had to do whatever you wanted me to do."
Mrs. Urwani chuckled, "Just relax, Reine. It will be safe here inside."
As Mount Sindoro continued to cough smoke into the sky, everyone in Yogyakarta could do nothing but wait.
And so the occupants of the Urwani house sat in the living room, watching a fine gray silt fall to the ground.
“When will the volcano erupt?” asked Reine.
“Nobody knows.”
Mrs. Urwani peered out the window.
“It makes me nervous,” said Reine.
“Me, too,” said Susi.
“You’d better get to bed. Mr. Urwani and I will worry about the volcano.”
The girls scurried upstairs and changed into their pajamas. Still, they sat beside their bedroom window and looked outside.
And they waited.
And they watched.
No comments:
Post a Comment