It has been a few years since that day – or I should say days, since a Balinese wedding spans a few days.
Eat your hear out girls – my wedding spanned almost a whole week!
December 9th 2012 my daughter and I were on the way from our home in Germany to Frankfurt to catch our flight to Amsterdam and from there to Denpasar, Bali. As fate would have it our flight to Amsterdam was cancelled due to heavy snow. It has happened to me too many times that it does not put me in a state of panic. This time I was getting a little irritated because my wedding adventure was due to start on December 12th. It was cutting it a little short considering that it takes about 19 hours from Frankfurt to Denpasar and Bali in a time zone about 6 hours ahead of us in Europe. I had taken my daughter out of school a week before Christmas holidays were to commence and was worried about questions that might have been asked about her not being in school. At the airport hotel my daughter complained about the cold and I calmed my nerves with a bottle of wine. I never drink alcohol before a long flight, but this was an emergency. I was going to get married (I had decided at the age of 12 that I never would tie the knot) and it looked as if I would be late for my own wedding!
KLM did a wonderful job of getting me on the next flight (24 hours later), but I did not stop acting like a 16 year old going on her first date (I did not date at that age – too busy with other stuff) till the plane door of our Amsterdam-Denpasar flight actually was closed and the seat belt signs switched on.
Sara, my daughter and I arrived in Denpasar on December 11th after 8PM tired, hungry and giving off the typical odor of long air travel. We still had to clear immigration, claim our bags and then make the two hour car journey to our Balinese home in Karangasem. So it was past midnight by the time my head hit the pillow.
On December 12th my husband Kadek said I could rest and prepare for my abduction. Huh? What? Abduction? My husband is a Balinese Hindu and little did I know that I was to be kidnapped from my own family and brought into my husbands family. Ah yes, these complex traditional beliefs and ceremonies and I was now to become part of that. On December 13th I got up early in the morning and dressed in the traditional sarong and kebaya (traditional blouse worn in by Indonesian women). With no idea what was awaiting me in the northern village of Kubutambahan where my husband is from I packed a small bag with more sarongs and kebayas. No western clothing for the next week!
To be continued……………… Part two