Love as long as your Visa lasts,
and beyond....
n 1958 a Nepali prince ran onto the tarmac at
Khatmandu airport and stopped the plane of a Bangkok-bound jet liner: he commanded the
plane to lower its stair, climbed aboard and found the woman he loved, Barbara Allen, who
was sitting next to her husband of two weeks. Barbara Allen followed her prince off the
plane and into her own special production of the "King and I"
A procession of 'new Balinese'
In 1988 I worked in Bali on a Phillip Noyce film: "Love As Long As
Your Visa Lasts" was its working title. It starred John Lone (The Last Emperor), as
the dancing prince from Ubud, and Wendy Hughes (Picnic at Hanging Rock) as the love-struck
Australian tourist. The title came from Jakarta wit Aji Damais who had observed how well
eligible young Balinese were marketing their charms and how often a cheap holiday would
turn into a torrid romance of the Barbara Allen variety.
This month the Stranger looks at the Balinese tradition, now prevalent
in the palaces, for taking european wives: |
One of the great
Balinese love stories of this century is that of Dr. Anak Agung Made Djelantik, son of the
last King of Karangasem, and his dutch-born wife Astrid. Married in 1948 they fought huge
prejudices both from within his staunchly royalist, staunchly anti-Dutch-colonial family
and from within the dutch culture where "marrying a native" was often cause for
social ostracism.
Due to his urbane charm, her fiercely
independent spirit and their international life together - they worked and lived together
in Somalia, Afghanistan, Venezuela, Iraq and Europe - the marriage survived fifty odd
years - their children are now modern leaders in Balinese society.
Late last year Astrid Djelantik passed away
after a long illness: to the end she remained unanchored to her husband's very extensive
family. In one way they were the Wallis and Edward of their generation.
I stood close to Dr. Djelantik on Sanur
Beach as he carried his beloved Astrid's ashes to the sea: because of the love we all feel
for this supremely unselfish man it was agony to watch the bewilderment on his face turn
to despair as, in the Balinese way, he bade his wife farewell on her final journey. |
| Since Astrid and Dr. Djelantik's ground breaking marriage,
Balinese society has moved towards internationalism with alarming speed while the culture
remains largely intact. Balinese society, always all-embracing, has grown to expect a few
pink or pale faces in the passing parades. And no-where more fashionable than the
fashion-conscious mini-palaces of Ubud and Peliatan where every second Jero, the honorary
title awarded to a wife from outside the palace caste, is a ring in! |
Diana Darling, Jero Ratna,
the ultimate Bule Age |
Royal Wedding, Puri Kauhan, Ubud, June 2, 1998
The invitation annoyed me - the long names I didn't recognize, the new age Balinaise
character of the design (dry twigs on earth tones). The day and time were inconvenient
too. Someone in my office advised me that the groom-to-be was the younger brother of
"Odeck" (Gung Ari) the most stylish kssatrya (nobleman) in a town of Cary Grant
wannabes, and owner/creator of the heavenly Ari's Warung restaurant in downtown Ubud.
I arrived at the palace gates at 6.30 p.m., fashionably late I hoped, wanting to avoid
too much hill-tribe small talk from my compatriots (well, my sample group) and wanting to
spend quality time with Odeck's inner circle, the Hindu intellectuals keen on our women.
The 'leader' of this pack, the widely admired Putu Suasta, my sponsor (along with
Yardley's and Nike), had been on BBC earlier today banging on about the Cendana families'
wealth in Bali and I wanted to congratulate him on his exposure. He's our local hero.
In
the alleyway to the inner entrance I was waylaid by a gaggle of 'new-balinese'
and their support group of young empressarios. Everyone had beautiful skin and
ruby buttons. Even the new Balinese were pictures of Byzantine beauty - wasp
waists in silk brocade, perfect postures on rented chairs. Mr. Bali, Gus Kik,
Poppo Danes and other ageless charmers anchored a saloon of courtiers keen to
kick on.
After some polite discourse on the power politics in the Puri (palaces) of Ubud with a
Californian aspirant (Tjok-o-holic) I was ushered into the main courtyard by a beaming
Odek, thrilled to be showing off his guests - "Hi Guruh, "Vive la
Resistance"; Hi Mick, Hi Jerry".
His garden was resplendent with makeshift pergolas dripping Balinese decoration, deep
views to distant golden pavilions and copies of my Wijaya Classics fountain
range.……and the groom, Agung Ngurah, parked like Napoleon at his coronation, and
Cokorda Istri Risma, an exhausted Josephine.
There were thousands of guests, all perma-pleat, and six gamelan orchestras in
courtyard after courtyard of ceremonial bliss. Each courtyard had a giant television set
in its corner.
"I went to a royal wedding in Mengwi last week……….they only had 20
inch screens" I gushed to a nearby noblewoman from Novascotia: in fact, there seemed
to be more new-balinese than the genuine article. (Soon the Balinese will need to buy
tickets to such occasions).
| With Bapak Nyoman Tusan, former Director of Art at Indonesia's
Department of Art and Culture, I watched an inspired Wayang Wong dance performance, my
favorite. Tonight's dance troupe, from Bapak Tusan's village of Tejakula in far
North-Eastern Bali, has been revamped by famed choreographer Sardono, of Jakarta, who is
also responsible for the space-age Bomo Ketjak from the Teges village troupe. My old
chum Jero Asri, Sydney-born wife of Cokorda Kertayasa (brother of the late great King of
Ubud) swept in as I was savoring the perfect satay. She lead a phalanx of Ubud wives from
down under - Chery, Beryl and Jane - who sat on faux-Amandari chairs in the dress circle.
I sidled over and told her how I'd just decided to abandon my future as an historian of
Orde Baru (Soeharto era) architecture and devote my life to Jero-ology, the phenomenon of
good goy girls marrying exotic noblemen. Grace Kelly would be the patron saint of the new
research facility, I proposed, and the Australian Women's Weekly the magazine of record.
But, jokes aside, the Balinese culture is sustained - nay the Balinese
thrive on these palace mega-events where high style, logistic prowess and feudal fervor
are doled out in equally generous portions. It was an evening to impress even the most
jaded expatriate - the poise of the Ubud chapter of new-Balinese a major
contributing factor. |
Jero Asri and her prince at their 1979 wedding in Ubud |
Simple
Pleasures: Head for the Hills.
What a relief to have Bali back to the gentle pace of yesteryear. No
megaprojects pounding the earth, the world's tallest Garuda is on hold and the
dredge at Turtle Island has been turned off.
Farewell
my Lovely: an obituary.
Little Agung is dead, murdered in a village mêlée on Christmas Eve.
The December pin-up boy who never made it to the end of his month, was to be married on
January 1, now the date for his cremation.
Royal Cremation
for Jero Bongkasa, May 1997
The full-scale royal cremation of the Prince of Bongkasa, I Gusti Agung Gede
Oka, on the 18th of May, 1997, was a magnificent affair. Family in white, guests in black,
and battallions of war veterans in the peacock colours of their regiments.
Jero Dalem Kepaon,
June 1997
My balinese mum's trusted lady-in-waiting, admiredby all the village for never
having missed a day's temple duty in 60 years.
R.I.P for K'tut
Tantri, August 1997
Ketut Tantri, a Scottish-born American woman, and the author of Revolt in
Paradise, was Bali's most notorious Stranger.
Sakenan Festival
on Turtle Island in the Age of Development, September 1997
The Pura Sakenan temple festival has always been a main event on South
Bali's religious calender. For the pious it is an important pilgrimage : for teenagers it
is a dating place par excellence (above the din of screaming priests one could
always discern a gentle rub.....
Nothing
if Not Practical - Burning Bodies and Batteries in Space Age Bali
"El Nino, El Dorado and Elle Mac Pherson" &SHY may sum up the hysteria of
these uncertain times &SHY but the Balinese go on with their ceremonies and devotions
oblivious to rising collossii and camel parks.
