Yesterday was the second most important Muslim Holiday, called Idul Adha. It is kind of a Idul Fitri light, still containing the mass gatherings of family and copious consumption of food, but minus the presents.
Being in Bira for this holiday meant that Kiky and I would miss out on celebrating with her immediate family, but we would get a chance to join her extended family for the celebration. Upon waking up we were brought jars filled with freshly baked cookies, all quite delicious. We gorged ourselves on a few of them, but reminded ourselves that to live through this day it was all about pacing yourself. If you eat too much at any given stop, you stand to insult the next person you visit by not being able to eat any of their food.
Cruising on the road from Bira along the coast to Batang, we would pass through numerous villages, including the one which we will eventually be a part of: Ara. The sun was unusually warm, and we were greatly relieved that our heads were free from helmets for a day. Many people wear topi Haji, a religious hat, on the holidays, so the police do not pull over anybody for lack of proper headgear on these days. We kept a leisurely pace of around 30 km/h, allowing us to greet passersby and take in many of the sites along the way.
Upon arriving at Ka Ancho’s house, one of Kiky’s cousins, we had to go through the process of greeting the 20 guests already crowding the place. Soon after we arrived though, all the men went off to pray. Apparently the women will only pray at the regular times, whereas the men have some extra pray times during the day. I find the people in the countryside quite a bit more devout than those in the city, however they are also more accepting to those who do not practice. The city’s religious attitudes feel kind of showy, with more word than action. City life probably makes following such a demanding religion difficult. So instead the people become more dogmatic and willing to impose their ideas on others. The country folk, in contrast, seem to be content with their own levels of devotion and are not bothered with getting involved in other’s business.
We ate while the men were praying, giving us time to clean our plates before they returned. Once everybody was back in the house, the usual questions started to pour in: what do people eat in Canada? How much money do people make? Do you have kids? Why not? Much of what they know about the west is based on stereotypes, so it gave me great pleasure to break down these ideas. It surprised many of them that we did in fact eat rice, although the idea of not eating it at least 2 times a day made them wonder how westerners ever felt satiated. As always, I got the pleasure of doubly shocking them by telling them the cost of living in Canada and the average salary. They were also really surprised that not many people owned their homes, as here it is commonplace for everybody to own their house.
Our day continued along this line, with many people opening their homes to us. Each time, we had to eat at least a cake and drink the sweet coffee or tea that was placed in front of us. Each place we went, I also got to learn a little more about my wife, her family, and the relatives she grew up around. By the end, we had to wrench ourselves away from the festivities to get home before darkness rolled in. We made it back to Bira just as a dramatic sunset was lighting up the western sky. If sailor’s lore has anything to say about it, then the redness of the sky guaranteed good weather today, which so far seems to be the case!
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